Oh man, so I just watched “Wild Man Blues,” the doc about Woody Allen on tour with his jazz band, and let me tell you, it was quite the ride. First off, who knew Woody could lay it down on the clarinet like that? It’s a revelation. Well, maybe not a revelation, because he’s discussed it before, but still—proper impressive.

The film itself is like watching an awkward family vacation, mixed with the pangs of being a creative icon forever shadowed by controversy. I was particularly hit by those moments where you can see he’s trying to escape something or maybe just keep busy, like when we, in Sweden, might take long aimless walks through Gamla Stan just to clear our noggin. Seriously, his banter with Soon-Yi adds that extra spice, a mix of charming and baffling, kind of like mixing lingonberries with wasabi—it shouldn’t work but somehow it does.

Now, onto personal anecdotes, speaking of jazz, it took me back to my time in a Stockholm jazz club where I tried to fit in by nodding along as if I could tell a saxophone from a tuba! Let’s just say, Allen’s bumbling yet sincere efforts to relish his musical dream resonated with me, fumbling through a night with note-perfect professionals.

The camera work, shaky at times, provides an organic glance into his world, as natural as a mug of coffee at 4 PM on a dreary Tuesday—all comforting and a tad confusing. And I think that’s what I like about it. But, there’s a part of me—perhaps the more skeptical—who wonders if we’re seeing this true reality or a curated illusion. It’s like you can almost smell the pretzels from the street vendors as you watch.

Anyhow, if you’re into jazz or the complex personas of famed directors, or just fancy an amusing peek behind the curtain, this one’s worth your time. Don’t expect epic revelations. Simply watch it like a Sunday afternoon fika with jazz legends. Enjoy the vibe for what it is, and maybe come out humming some blues yourself.

So grab a cup of coffee, kick back, and check out the trailer here! Wild Man Blues