[Note: I wrote this essay a few weeks ago, when I was just planning on re-starting this blog. Now the subject matter has fallen out of the news, but it's still an interesting topic, and a good break from the usual non-dualism talk I've promised not to get lost in. So here goes, better late than never]
Woody Allen's family scandals have been in the news quite a lot these days, with the resurfacing of accusations of child molestation by his adopted daughter Dylan dating from the time of his messy separation from Mia Farrow in 1992, brought on by revelations of his affair and subsequent marriage to one of Mia's other adopted older children, Soon Yi Previn.
I'm not sure the tangled mess of the Allen-Farrow family can ever be adequately sorted out by outsiders as to what actually happened, or if that even matters to anyone not personally connected to that scene. What interests me is the discussion about Allen's art and philosophy of life that it has provoked, and in particular the significance of Allen's own deeply held views about the meaning of life, or the lack of same, and how that is reflected back and forth between his life and his art.
In particular, I found this article by Damon Linker to be provocatively interesting, if also deeply flawed. His opening thesis is put forth here:
I don't know what did or did not happen between Woody Allen and Dylan Farrow more than 20 years ago, and neither does Nicholas Kristof. What I do know is that Allen is a moral nihilist. This should not be taken as evidence that he sexually molested Mia Farrow's adopted daughter when she was 7 years old, or taken as a sign that he'd condone such behavior. But it does mean he espouses a philosophical outlook that renders him powerless to condemn it.This is a common criticism of secular, atheistic philosophy - its supposed impotence in the face of evil, which includes an inability to even call evil by its name. In some cases that might even be true. But is it true of Woody Allen and his art? Not by a long shot. In fact, I think a sincere understanding of Allen's art reaches the opposite conclusion, not least because Allen has himself made much fun of nihilism and ridiculed it with great comic effect in his movies.
Allen's comedic and film oeuvre is not entirely distinguished or consistent, to be sure. It is often highly personal, even self-indulgently so, and documents his own evolving notions about life and morality in twists and turns that often make even his admirers seasick. And yet it is hardly what one could call nihilistic, though some of his films do touch on the subject of nihilism, most prominently Crimes and Misdemeanors, considered by many to be his best work. Without going into detail (Linker already does that) the movie's basic plot could be summarized as "bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people." The key message seems to be that the universe simply does not reward or punish people on the basis of their moral worth, and that expecting it to do so is delusional and sets us up for terrible disappointments.