Irrational Man

Woody Allen has written about plenty of misanthropes during the past half century, but most of them have a neurotic charm or a misguided innocence to their cynicism.

There are no such marginally redemptive qualities in Abe, the loathsome title character in Irrational Man, a dramatic trifle that marks one of the venerable filmmaker’s more trivial efforts.

Abe (Joaquin Phoenix) is a troubled philosophy professor who carries around a flask of scotch and an intense malaise, quoting everyone from Kant to Kierkegaard. Yet his reputation as a great contemporary thinker heralds his arrival at a small New England liberal-arts college, where everyone soon labels him either as an oddball loner or a misunderstood genius with excuses for every eccentricity.

Those in the latter category include Rita (Parker Posey), a colleague who begins flirting with Abe, and also Jill (Emma Stone), a student whose infatuation with the new prof takes its toll on her relationship with her boyfriend (Jamie Blackley).

Abe’s spirits pick up only after an eavesdropping session puts Jill and him in the middle of a high-profile investigation involving the murder of a judge, with Abe trying to cover up his possible involvement while Jill and Rita condemn it.

That’s the basis for many of the moral questions Allen seems to be asking here, although an attempt to justify Abe’s actions as little more than existential angst is a cop-out.

Otherwise, the filmmaker is dealing with some familiar elements here, including the romance between the older man and younger woman (set to a jazzy piano score) that may or may not have veiled connections to Allen’s own life, as well as the travails of a troubled intellectual, and a criminal scheme that spirals out of control for the antihero.

There are segments of witty dialogue and some clever twists along the way, along with strong performances across the board – Phoenix especially finds complexity in his role – so Irrational Man isn’t a total disaster.

However, the plotting is sketchy and the characters lack Allen’s usual depth. More than anything, in a film that sets itself up to comment on academia or guilty conscience or something else, it ultimately has little to say.

Rated R, 94 minutes.