I re-watched Stardust Memories tonight. It's one of his artsy mid-period films that fits into this languid Annie Hall type dreaminess. It's all about a man who constantly reminisces about his past relationships, especially one in particular--a beautiful, dark-haired mess named Dorrie. Every time he thinks about her, he remembers little things, like a particular way she smiled at him one day... and now, in the present, he's with a put-together woman, who's not at all brooding, but he still thinks about Dorrie all the time. The final scene is of him hallucinating his own death (sorry to give it away, like there was anything to give) and he thinks about a short moment with Dorrie, reading a magazine. And he romanticizes it in such a way that it almost brings me to tears. Woody Allen has this way of portraying normal situations as if every moment were the most beautiful and important moment in the world. He makes me fall in love with him, and with people in general, because he shows that in all people there is enormous potential for these perfect, beautiful connections.
This is the clip I was referring to: the part that really gets me is around 2:28.
I once told Neil that the sexiest moment I ever saw was from this movie, from a scene near the beginning, where Woody Allen is stroking the Dorrie character across her clavicle with his entire hand... you make fun, but you haven't seen it!