Ever the completist, I decided one lonely evening to finally watch 2000’s Picking Up the Pieces, a rare bird of a picture where Woody Allen appeared as an actor, but neither wrote nor directed. I couldn’t find a single positive review, but the premise seemed can’t-miss. The world’s Jewiest Jew, tied to New York like the Statue of Liberty, dons a cowboy hat, answers to the name “Tex,” and goes on the lam after slicing and dicing his unfaithful wife (Sharon Stone!) into seven healthy chunks of flesh. Driving through New Mexico in a pickup truck, body parts in tow, he hits a bump in the road, dislodging the severed hand. It falls to the ground, only to be encountered by a blind local. Suddenly and miraculously having her sight restored, the grateful woman takes the hand to a nearby church, where it transforms the fictional town of El Nino into a modern-day Lourdes.
The town, predictably, uses the hand to raise money, build civic interest, and basically recycle elements from Inherit the Wind and Ace in the Hole. Naturally, the townspeople are unrelentingly eccentric, including a priest (David Schwimmer) who lusts after the town whore. Cheech Marin is the Mayor, Kiefer Sutherland an unhinged cop bent on revenge, and Andy Dick as, well, Andy Dick, only one interested in big boobs. Even Elliott Gould stops by, doing things that make us wish he’d put a gun to his temple somewhere around the theatrical release of The Long Goodbye. It’s a cast of thousands, all on board in service of what can only be described as the most god-awful thing Woody Allen has ever done, and that’s if you believe Dylan Farrow. Which I don’t. Because she’s insane. Like her mother. But that’s a 20,000-word rant for another time.
In short, Picking Up the Pieces is an unmitigated disaster, churning along to no end, save a blistering contempt for its audience. All seven of us. We all know Woody can do shit like this in his sleep, which is about as much effort as he put into his performance. It’s joyless, humorless, and so forced, one wonders how a “mysterious” post-production fire didn’t prevent the one and only print from ever seeing the light of day. And yet, there is a laugh. A big one. Tucked amongst the feces, bile, and broken bodies of the damned. You have to wait until the final two minutes of the movie to find it, but it does in fact come. Too late for many, but not so late that I can’t regurgitate 723 words on a film that didn’t deserve the courtesy of me turning on my laptop.
In sum, Woody is talking to the hand of his dead wife. He’s seen her in a vision, laughed over old times, and basically come to terms with her whoring, as she’s Sharon Stone, and he’s old enough to be her great-grandfather. The hand had been stolen, held hostage, and threatened with permanent banishment, but here, at last, it’s resting back on its shrine at the church. After the brief heart-to-heart and getting ready to go back to Texas to face the music, Woody, as only Woody can, parts with a perfectly rendered quip: “So long, tits.” Humorous as written? Hardly. But coming as it does, in the context of it being just a hand, with breasts nowhere in sight, I couldn’t help but roar with delight. Somehow, it justified the entire unpleasant experience. I’d even sit through it again just to hear that line. Did I mention I watched this nonsense at 1:00 A.M.?
I know what you’re thinking: you invented a Ruthless category, and this is the shit you waste it on? I repeat, friends: I write for me. More than that, I use this forum to highlight moments, characters, and dialogue few have ever stooped to care about. Or ever will. For me, it’s about saying that even in a two-hour horror show, there’s something to grab. Yes, the worst possible experience can have a second or two of respite. It’s in that spirit I inaugurate this bold new adventure. The rules are simple: the film has to be so bad, it can’t be defended in any way, shape, or form, except for one moment in time. Two great moments, it doesn’t count. An extended scene, forget it. One single moment. That’s it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
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