Allen’s decade-long slide from wince-inducing to embarrassing to gross perhaps hits bottom here. It’s not just the lechy fantasy of the towheaded waif dying to get into the geriatric’s pants — though that of course doesn’t help — it’s the flat out absolute crap writing and the inevitably artificial performances that result. No one lives, and no one has ever lived, anything resembling the lives these characters are living, and no one has ever spoken like this. Impossible to watch; we lasted about half an hour. Look at those fucking bananas!