One of Woody Allen’s most interesting cinematic experiments is Zelig (1983). The year before This is Spinal Tap made “mockumentary” a buzzword term, Allen had fun with the concept of a nondescript man (played by Allen) so unhappy with his own life that he learns to mimic the appearance and personalities of people around him. This human chameleon, Leonard Zelig, is an enigma to himself, yet like the eponymous Forrest Gump a decade later, becomes symbolic of different things to everybody.
Filmed in black-and-white with a variety of different cameras for various effects, Zelig is a technical marvel. Cinematographer Gordon Willis and his team fit images of Zelig into history — next to presidents Hoover and Coolidge, boxer Jack Dempsey, the Pope and even Hitler — seamlessly. The technical wizardry is even more amazing because Allen’s features, size and even skin color change depending on the situation. Yes, anyone working with a good photo editing program can now do the same, but that wasn’t common in 1983. Plus, several of Zelig’s cameo appearances in history are punctuated with humor.
Allen turns down the slapstick level in this movie; it could have been played broadly, even wildly (which would have been reminiscent of Allen’s Take the Money and Run, a genuine comedy classic). Instead, Allen tells Zelig’s tale semi-straight, allowing the director to skewer the medical profession (which cannot explain Zelig’s chameleon-like ability), the fickleness of the public (which first loves him, then despises him, then loves him again, then forgets about him entirely), and the nature of celebrity itself (Zelig is famous not for anything he has accomplished but only because he looks and acts like other people, which may be the most worthless talent imaginable — acting!).
Yet even while it satirizes much about life, it also conveys genuine concern that one person’s worth is important. If just one other person cares, it makes all the difference.
Zelig is Allen’s homage to the rescuing power of love, and it’s a superbly crafted achievement. My rating: ☆ ☆ ☆. (9:1).