Miami Rhapsody

We are in tropical Miami, but from the opening strains of Satchmo, Mia Farrow gabbling to her analyst, the infidelities, the talk and the whole damn ronde, we can sense that Woody Allen woz 'ere. Age has prompted ad-copywriter Gwyn (Parker) to accept the proposal of connubial whatsit from zoo-keeper Matt (Bellows), but the evidence of her family constitutes a caveat. First, dad tells her he suspects mum of a fling, and she finds mum (Farrow) is indeed romancing a nurse (Banderas); but then she finds dad (Mazursky, a director who cues another raft of associations) is himself sleeping with his secretary; brother Jordan is bonking Kaia (Campbell). As written, directed and produced by Frankel, this is a highly consumable product, a talky, breezy romantic comedy without particular insight, but filmed with pleasing brio. Mark Isham's score and the song soundtrack (mambo and jazz classics of the Porter/Ellington pedigree) give it the Rolls-Royce touch. But the acting's the thing. Parker's a sparky enough actress to hold the storm centre, and there are a half-dozen highly watchable performances, notably from Mazursky and Pollack.