Jasmine French deserves our sympathy

She is the tragic heroine of Woody Allen's new movie, “Blue Jasmine”. It opens with her flying First Class, which she can't afford, from NY to live with her half-sister in San Francisco—someone who has never tasted First Class in her life unless McDonalds had a test of a Caviar McMuffin. Jasmine got in this fix of being homeless, husbandless and broke through her own jealous impulsiveness that toppled the house of cards built by her husband's shady financial dealings—today's villain du jour. But in my experience these beautifully coiffed and clothed Park Avenue women have always had more moxy and cunning than poor Jasmine. Woody has stacked the deck against her. No money, no family and no marketable skill and no sense or sensibility for the life ahead of her. Her only support is the sister who bags groceries and dubious lovers. Even her son and husband have abandoned her. The funniest scene is a bit of farce when the aptly-named Dr. Flicker, a dentist she works for, declares his love and makes a pass at her and she knocks him to the floor. She's not going to leave the Four Seasons lifestyle for The Olive Garden without a fight. There is no Mr. Right for her, including an unctious man who wants to run for congress. If Woody is detailing infidelity and divorce he's on sure ground he knows well. If he's showing us the gulf between the 1% and the 99%, he's not in the same league as George Bernard Shaw. I guess this is a story of modern manners and morals except you won't find either in the script. Woody leaves her broken, dispirited, alone and talking to herself on a park bench. Chekhov went backstage after one of his plays ended and found the actors in tears. He said, “but this is just a little comedy”. I suppose Blue Jasmine is just a little comedy where everybody loses, especially the husband who commits suicide in prison.