The other day, I watched a 2012 Woody Allen movie, “To Rome with Love.” 
I first watched his hilarious comedy film “Take the Money and Run” in the 1970s and immediately put his name on the list of my favorite actors. Allen is a celebrated film director, but also a superb actor. He plays a timid but humane intellectual in modern times in the film. He brilliantly renders the melancholy and pathos of the petty bourgeois living alone in a big inhumane city like New York.

In “To Rome with love” Allen appears as the father of a female American tourist who falls in love with an Italian man who she encounters in the streets of Rome. Allen plays Jerry who is a nervous, hesitant intellectual visiting a foreign city. A man in constant anxiety, Jerry worries about everything: turbulence in the plane, his trip to a foreign country and his daughter’s future with her Italian leftist fiance. He does not like the occupation of his future in-law, who is a mortician.

“To Rome with Love” is set in Rome and consists of four separate episodes: the story of Harley, an American tourist who is engaged to an Italian man named  Michelangelo, and her parents who are coming to Rome to see their in-laws; the story of a newly married couple, Antonio and Milly, who decide to move to Rome from a rural place; the story of an office clerk, Leopoldo, who suddenly and inexplicably becomes an overnight celebrity who is constantly chased by paparazzi; and the story of John, who is a famous American architect visiting Rome where he lived 30 years ago. While revisiting his old haunts, John recollects his regretful adolescence in Rome.

Each episode teaches us a lesson. The story of Leopoldo opens our eyes to the hollowness of popularity and the vanity of being a celebrity. When he loses his popularity, he cannot stand it and resorts to drugs to forget the psychological emptiness. The story of Antonio and Milly illustrates that city life, though adventurous, does not fit innocent, naive people such as Antonio and Milly.

From the story of Harley we learn that we cannot choose our daughter’s fiance. Rather, it is her choice and her life, and there is nothing we can do about it. The episode also teaches another lesson: Life can be worthwhile, even though it may look like a series of failures and disappointments. In addition, you can do something worthwhile even after retirement.

Jerry happens to notice that his future in-law, Giancarlo, has talent in singing.

As a retired opera director, Jerry wants to revive his failed career by bringing Giancarlo’s talent to the public. He encourages Giancarlo to take part in an audition, which turns out to be a total failure.

Upon finding out that Giancarlo sings well only when taking a shower, Jerry sets up an onstage shower booth. A concert turns out to be a huge success, but because of the onstage shower booth, Jerry is called an “imbecille” by newspaper critics. Not knowing the Italian word which means “imbecile,” Jerry takes it as a compliment, mistakenly thinking that “imbecille” is a good term similar to maestro. At least, however, Jerry helped his future in-law realize his dream of performing Pagliacci. 

Meanwhile, the architect John’s story illuminates that as we grow older, we often look back upon our past with regret. This episode reveals that old people can see what impetuous young men cannot. Therefore, young people should listen to older men because the latter acquired wisdom after paying a costly price. In his reminiscence, John turns into an imaginary figure who watches what happened to himself 30 years ago.

When John was young and reckless, he cheated on his girlfriend, Sally, by flirting with her friend, Monica, who comes to his apartment to stay over for a while.

John constantly warns his younger self about how shallow Monica is and how deadly Monica’s sexual charms will be. But the younger self does not listen to him and consequently ends up losing precious things in his life by choosing Monica over Sally.

This episode reveals that young people tend to dismiss older people’s warning as nothing but nagging. However, their advice can be often quite useful and valuable. Nevertheless, young people can be blind when they fall in love. They cannot see what older people can.

Watching “To Rome with Love,” I frequently laughed, and yet I often felt heart-throbbing pangs. Why? As I grow old, I, too, look back upon my life with regret and remorse.

By Kim Seong-kon     

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. He can be reached at sukim@snu.ac.kr. -- Ed.