Borrowing only the title and some typically inane questions from Dr David Reuben’s oft-ingenuous but widely read overview of sexual matters, Woody Allen writes his sixth screenplay and serves for the third time as his own director.
Pic is divided into seven segments – blackout sketches, really – that presumably are Allen’s surrealistic answer to selected questions from the Reuben tome.
One of the episodes is a prolonged piece of nonsense involving a 2001-inspired mission control centre that is engineering a bout of intercourse in a parked car. Idea of Allen as a reluctant sperm may sound funny on paper, but it plays like an adolescent jape.
Allen’s gift is in the depiction of a contemporary intellectual shlump who cannot seem to make it with the chicks always tantalizingly out of reach. That persona could well have served him once more as the focus for a good bit of caustic comedy on today’s sexual mores.