The old cliché of a person being great artist but a terrible human being is certainly true for Sean Penn's fictional Emmet Ray, self-dubbed the second best guitarist in the world. Why he attracts the attention of more than one female is beyond me; Thurman's Blanche is drawn to that rough, unhemmed quality about him like writers are drawn to trouble subjects because they make for great stories. And Allen too has made this little misstep - there is nigh a thing redeemable about Ray but for his soulful jazz guitar, which must be exactly what Allen finds himself so eager to capture. The framing device is an unnecessary one, too clever for its own right; Allen and other jazz alumni are filmed as talking heads recounting the great life of Emmet Ray with a wistfulness for his mastery...there is a subjectivity quality to their stories of course, but this seems like an artificial method of further mystifying the great enigma that was Ray. A pity then that Allen's script is as relatively straightforward as it is. He did not often delve as dark and deep as Interiors did, and here even the most emotionally dramatic scenes are smothered by the incessant cheery jazz as the backing track to Ray's life. No woman would ever be secondary to his music, and it rings so true. Not even such an innocent, demure maiden like Hattie, as Samantha Morton in one of the performances of her time. She winds back the clock to the times of pantomime and silent film, and in each wide, uncontrollably smile, and each smothered tear, has brought us such a defined and memorable character without saying a word. Allen almost never has to bring the camera closer; her body language works furiously in place of her mouth, whether it is enthusiastically replacing a flat tire for the prize of hearing one more tune from Ray, or the way her adorable chews indicate her satisfaction, and in perhaps the best scene of the film, the way she wordlessly convinces Ray to let her accompany him on his trip. Her eyes water, and her entire face crumples up, and Penn rambles and rambles...and relents, even his emotional defense broken down.In a similar scene he does the same thing and humorously forbids Hattie from giving him a birthday present, before eagerly allowing it once he sees that it is something he desires. This is one of his many vices of course - a sort of contradictive possessiveness and consumerist hunger for objects that don't contribute to his music at all, but which he wants nevertheless. His ego has convinced him that he wants these things, and that no woman would ever want to leave him, and that his musical performance is beyond reproach. Allen, naturally, adds a comic layer to this furiousness and decadence - see how Penn dangles from the model moon and awkwardly untangle himself and let the music come to his fingers. And then a smash cut to later where he is literally smashing and burning the offender. How dare it intrude on his performance. But most of all the character is destructive, and Allen has somewhat obscured this fact. Django Reinhardt emerges as this huge, imposing figure within the film, dogging each of Ray's steps, even as he is never physically seen. How would Django react to seeing the great Emmet Ray? Surely he would not faint. Would he even recognise him? As Allen's faux-documentary style intends, perhaps not.

When Sean Penn embodies any sort of psycho or sociopath, you know he'll do good. Under the direction of Woody Allen, Sean Penn gives life to Emmet Ray, supposed to be the best guitar player of his time, around the 30's. Emmet lives haunted by one Django, who he believes to be way better than himself, fainting every time he makes visual contact with him. Travelling around the states for money, he eventually meets Hattie (Samantha Morton), a mute girl somewhere around his age, very simple but also quite dumb girl. A not quite mutual relationship begins but only took a couple years for Hattie to wake up with a letter on the bedside table. Emmet had gone. Living like an artist, another woman gets his attention, this time she ain't mute but isn't very smart, still. Blanche (Uma Thurman), has this habit of writing everything that comes to her mind and annoys Emmet for talking too much. Emmet ends up marrying her anyway. I interpreted his marriage to be some sort of regret for leaving Hattie, later in the movie you may understand why. As you see the story ain't the most interesting. The interviews that putted in between scenes don't work out well. Sean Penn is good and Samantha Mortonwas very cool. The music is also very cool. Woody Allen could have surely done it better. 6/10

It seems like ages since the last time I watched a decent movie by (Woody Allen). Let's see; from Annie Hall (1977) to Everyone Says I Love You (1996) things were good. Then Deconstructing Harry (1997), Celebrity (1998), Small Time Crooks (2000), The Curse of the Jade Scorpion (2001), Hollywood Ending (2002), and Melinda and Melinda (2004) ALL had problems, sometimes more than their good points. In the middle of both phases is where Sweet and Lowdown exists. Now this is a good movie on all the levels.Why Emmet Ray couldn't be Django Reinhardt ? It's simple. He isn't that bold when it comes to express his feelings. So that's why he didn't tell the girl he loved (who loved him as well) that he loves her, and lost her at the end. I think there is a reason why Allen did a movie about that man, else paying a tribute to jazz guitarist he loves. Allen is the complete opposite of Emmet Ray. Dear Woody just can't get enough of showing himself to the audience through the characters of his movies during the last 35 years (some of them played by him). Or maybe, after all of these years, Woody just sees that he didn't express enough, feeling a bound with Ray as if the last is a symbol for the suppression which could kill a talented artist. We can read this movie as a conscience of importunate fear Allen has.Anyway, I loved it. It was fantastic how Allen, out of some unfinished or uncertain stories, made his own version of Emmet Ray's bio. However, I felt something was missing with the background of the character. His history was a bit vague. I know well that he was poor to the extent that made him afraid of being poor again, so he worked a lot, threw money away for looking rich, having this strange love to steal (he, to some extent, just wants to own). But on the other hand, I didn't understand what the secret of his fear to express was ?, was it some kind of compulsory obsession ?, was it something in his childhood ?, was he that shy of his early poor life ?, another unanswered question : He drank much to forget what : his fear ?, or his inner belief that he wouldn't be great due to this very fear ?There are some nice moments. The ones with his wife were so serene and hilariously comic. Samatha Morton is an angel from heaven. She was sent to do this role. Now I knew that angels can't look like they're acting at all, they can be so realistic and damn believable ! Sean Penn proves that he's a master of characters. He did it nearly flawlessly. However, he was lowdown and no sweet ?!! And finally, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, can be more joyful more than witnessing how the old jazz tracks, that Woody adores, fit perfectly in the movie he directs. Ahhh, I felt deep relief about that apart !It's romantic, funny, sad. And based on true and false stories (as if there isn't a history that suffers from the same thing ?!). (Sweet and Lowdown) is where all the elements that make a usual Woody Allen's movie shared to make, at last, a fine Woody Allen's movie. The moon that Ray dreamed of and feared of, Allen captured and rode it.

Back in the 1920's and 30's, the fictitious Emmet Ray (Sean Penn) was a superlative guitarist, second only to the great Django Reinhardt. His rise to eventual fame, however, was rocky, due to his gigantic ego and eccentricities. Apart from drinking a bit too much and being a no-show at engagements he was committed to play, Emmet also believed in the love 'em and leave 'em philosophy. But, when Emmet felt the world closing in on him, he just headed off to the nearest dump to shoot rats or went to a railroad yard to watch the locomotives. One day, Emmet and a fellow musician court two ladies on a New Jersey boardwalk. After a flip of a coin, Emmet is saddled with Hattie (Samantha Morton) a mute laundress who can nevertheless hear. She soon becomes smitten with Emmet, so much so that even he can't help but bask in her never ceasing attention. After a gig ends, Emmet and Hattie head to Hollywood so Ray can pursue a career in movie soundtracks. But, over time, Emmet decides to dump Hattie, because as an artist, he can't have any permanent commitments. Eventually, a new woman, writer Blanche (Uma Thurman) enters his life and his career endures more ups and downs. But, has Emmet totally forgotten the sweet Hattie? This is a superlative film, with a great cast, story, and music. Woody Allen wrote this gem, of course, and it is very funny and tragic at the same time. Allen appears in the movie himself, as a commentator on the music of Emmet Ray. Penn, known more for his serious work, is a total delight as the self-centered but engaging guitarist. Just watch him try to land on stage from a giant swinging moon and you will laugh yourself silly. Morton, who garnered an Academy award nomination (as did Penn), has no dialogue but is wonderful and expressive as the sweet, faithful woman done wrong. The rest of the cast, including Thurman, Gretchen Mol, Anthony LaPaglia, and others, is fine, too. The look of the film, a re-creation of the twenties and thirties, sports excellent costumes, scenery, and amenities. Finally, the music is lovely, vibrant, and a pure pleasure to hear. If you have never tried an Allen flick, here is one on which to begin your pursuits. It will strum its way into your heart and soul, between huge peals of laughter.