Shedding Light on Some of Woody Allen’s Darker Shadows

After reading Marilyn Fabe’s essay on Woody Allen that identifies the psychological roots of his comic genius through a self-psychological lens, I felt more interested in and connected to the real person whose films I have immensely enjoyed over the years. We are all more or less creative in our dream weaving activity at night. We cast characters as well as direct and play them. Part of Allen’s genius lies in his ability to extend this prolific activity into daytime hours, leaving us a legacy of masterful, classic films.

As a developmental and psychoanalytic psychologist, I am especially drawn to Fabe’s insights about Allen’s character as she highlights similarities between his protagonists’ dilemmas and his own traumatic childhood. This awareness made me more intrigued as I can now see how the films he made illuminate his interior life, dark shadows and all.

Through his characters, we witness and feel their emotional turmoil and pain; we relate to their conflicts and struggles, and in the process have an insightful glimpse into Allen’s psychological issues. Fabe convincingly shows how even his early comedy, Take the Money and Run (1969), reflects Allen’s own emotional suffering. In that film, as she notes, the protagonist, played by Allen, criticizes and beats himself up, gets in trouble for others’ misdeeds, and is the bully’s target.

Fabe argues that much of his material is autobiographical. However, there is an important difference: in real life, Allen achieves critical acclaim, unlike his characters, such as the one in Take the Money and Run, who are portrayed as losers and schlemiels. Yet Allen is never satisfied with his achievements. It’s as though he adopts his mother’s measure of success, which he can never achieve, no matter how many award-winning films he makes.

Heinz Kohut believed that for children to develop a healthy sense of self, they need to be mirrored by a parent—ideally both parents—who sees their specialness, makes them feel worthy of

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unconditional love, and accepts them for who they are. Kohut also believed children need a parent image whom they can admire and look up to. Lastly, he believed children need a twinship, someone with whom they feel an essential kinship so they don’t feel alone or alien.

Unfortunately, writes Fabe, Allen’s mother, who was more involved than his father, did not provide this positive mirroring experience. She expressed deep disappointment in him and criticized him frequently. She failed to encourage his writing and artistic talents and was never satisfied with his achievements in life. She also denigrated and disparaged Allen’s father, so he could not serve as the positive role model of a strong and confident man whom Allen could look up to. His father’s misbehavior and many faults also stood in the way of Allen admiring him. It may well be that Allen internalized his father’s sense of weakness and fragility. Allen not only missed out on having attuned, emotionally available, and supportive parents, which is so important for healthy self-esteem development, but he also didn’t have any special mentor growing up who could have compensated somewhat for what his parents failed to provide.

Years later in his adulthood, Allen sought out a way to repair, through psychotherapy, the psychological insults of his childhood. Allen reveals in his autobiography, Apropos of Nothing (2020), that he never felt therapy led to the kind of deep, lasting psychological change he sought. He adds, however, that he benefited from the holding environment therapy provided; notably, he felt less alone with his pain and emotional angst. Moreover, during his many years spent in therapy, he felt positively mirrored and found role models he could look up to. He also took comfort in the idea he was taking action. He writes, “a big plus was the delusion I was helping myself. In the blackest of times it’s nice to feel you’re not just lying dormant, a passive slug being pelted by the irrational lunacy of the universe, or even by tsuris of your own making” (Apropos of Nothing, 73).

Another ingredient in the recipe for good-enough parenting and healthy child development is the concept of goodness of fit. When there is a good fit between the mother (or father) and child, the mother nourishes her child’s temperament and attunes to and meshes with her child and his/her needs. Clearly, Allen’s mother did not adjust her expectations to Allen’s needs. His mother could not appreciate his gifts and talents, leaving Allen with lifelong psy-

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chological wounds never sufficiently healed. Unfortunately, his dad did not provide enough of a strong presence to compensate for his mother’s emotional shortcomings.

In addition to misattuned parenting, Allen experienced a most chaotic caregiving environment from infancy on. Fabe describes how his mother left him with a series of babysitters while she worked. The sitters provided inconsistent care, making it hard for him to develop a healthy sense of trust that someone he had a relationship with would always be there for him. One of these sitters threatened (and terrified) him when he was only three. She exclaimed to him that she could smother him and throw him in the garbage and no one would ever know. Is it any wonder that he developed existential angst that has persisted over the years? Allen brilliantly portrayed this sense of dread in a number of his films, including Manhattan (1979), Hannah and her Sisters (1986), and Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989).

For Allen, his films and his writing provided a cathartic outlet for him to work through his emotional struggles. Audiences appreciate Allen’s special brand of humor because his inner struggles represent ones we all can identify with. It’s easier to laugh at someone slipping on a banana peel than to feel humiliated when others laugh at us for making a misstep.

Despite years of therapy and psychoanalysis, and with all his incredible talents and achievements notwithstanding, Allen was never satisfied with himself. He could never please his mother and he inevitably internalized her displeasure. However, one must make peace with oneself. No matter the opinion of others, there will always be critics. A person with a healthy sense of self and positive self-regard is less dependent on approval and recognition from others. How much easier life can be when one has received this gift of unconditional positive regard in one’s early childhood. I wonder how Allen’s genius and creativity would have been different had he received good-enough nurturing when he was a child. I would speculate that without the deep narcissistic wounds of his childhood, Allen would not have created such emotionally powerful and popular films. Fabe also believes that Allen’s comic genius feeds on his damaged self. Such a view is in sharp contrast to Barbara Shapiro’s position (discussed in Fabe’s essay) that his damaged self limits his art. In my opinion, and probably in Fabe’s opinion as well, if Allen had experienced more loving and attuned care during his earlier years, his gain would have been our loss.

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I am impressed with the analysis Marilyn Fabe provided about Allen’s childhood and his relationship with his parents as these experiences influence his early film, Take the Money and Run. My question to Fabe is: “Can you tell us more about how Allen’s childhood relates to the themes that weave through his later films?” I note especially how he depicts characters who experience difficulties in romantic relationships and who are preoccupied with existential concerns. Can we think of these later themes as also feeding on his adverse childhood experiences, and if so, how? Beyond my curiosity about the details of his childhood and how they play out in his films, I’d want to know more about his mother’s childhood. Just as his mother wasn’t able to see and accept him for who he was (seeing him perhaps as a mirror image of her husband who disappointed her), perhaps her own parents did not see and accept her for who she was, which is so important for developing a healthy sense of self. It is said, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I’d venture to say that, had Allen been the apple of either of his parent’s eyes, he might have found a good-enough spot in fertile enough soil, far enough away to plant his own healthy seeds of self-esteem and produce a blossoming apple tree.

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