But let me say straight off that, though trashed by many critics to date, Celebrity is by no means a poor movie. It's just that with Woody Allen the expectations are about as high as the heavens and no less lofty. Essentially about the quest for two of life's most elusive trophies, love and fame, the film is thought provoking, blessed with stunning performances by a cast of fine actors and actresses, and laced with typical Woody humor. The jokes may not be a mile a minute -- and I imagine this is at the root of much of the criticism -- but they are there, and pointed as ever.

One thing that was somewhat distracting about the film was Kenneth Branagh's performance as journalist Lee Simon. Needless to say, Branagh is one of the finest actors of the day, but in Celebrity we get the feeling that he is emulating Woody Allen's every mannerism and vocal gesture. Suffice it to say, he does a good Woody Allen, however, you can't help feeling that the film-maker would have done an even better job, without even mussing a hair.

Clockwise from top left: Judy Davis, Melanie Griffith, Charlize Theron, Winona Ryder

Judy Davis, on the other hand, as the beleaguered wife Robin Simon, is nothing short of amazing. A veteran of the Woody Allen school of film-making (this is her fourth appearance), Davis is brilliant in both her dramatic and comic delivery. Hands down, nobody does neurosis better than her.

Additionally, Leonardo DiCaprio is superb as the spoiled and shallow actor Brabdon Darrow. After the travesty of Titanic, it was no less than a breath of life to see Leonardo drinking, drugging and whoring it up in the film. I would bet good money that Leonardo would prefer to be remembered for trashing a hotel room in Celebrity than going down with the good ship Megabucks in the icy Atlantic. (Surprisingly, Celebrity was shot in the fall of 1997 before the release of Titanic or I would have thought that Leonardo had invented and scripted the character himself.)

As mentioned, Celebrity is not chockfull of guffaws. (Unfortunately, the expectation of this by fans and critics alike has been a constant albatross to Allen's career.) This is not to say that the film does not have its moments. In one particularly amusing scene, Robin Simon receives sex tips from working girl played by Bebe Neuwirth, with the aid of a famous subtropical piece of fruit. "Take the banana and give it your best blow job," Bebe studiously instructs. "Okay, down the hatch."

Speaking of sex, it appears that, much like Howard Stern (and NY Rock), the act of copulation, in its various manifestations, is steadily becoming more the focus of each new Woody Allen vehicle. Celebrity is no exception. The scenario mentioned in the prior paragraph is not the only fellatio scene to be witnessed in the movie. One takes place, in fact, within 15 minutes of the film's opening (courtesy of Melanie Griffith as film goddess Nicole Olivier).

The most startling element of Celebrity, however, is Woody Allen's treatment of his own persona (under the rice-paper-thin guise of Lee Simon). The parallels to Allen's life are acute. The estrangement from Mia and the romance with Soon-Yi are depicted in the most unflattering of lights via Lee Simon's divorce from Robin and his disastrous affair with Nola (Winona Ryder). His depiction of the public is no less heartwarming. "You can tell a lot about a culture from the people it chooses to celebrate," says a character midway through the film. What we can tell about this culture, judging by Allen's movie, is that we are vain, ignorant and downright crazy.

One interesting observation about Celebrity is the silver lining that almost seems to present itself at the film's conclusion. Deep beneath the veneer of his cynicism lies a more romantic Woody Allen, and we get a rare glimpse of it as Robin Simon triumphs in the end. Then again, perhaps I have misinterpreted something here. After all, Robin's ultimate triumph is Lee's ultimate defeat. And in the end, we are left with a message that could just be Woody's own: the word HELP, scrawled across the screen in skywriting seconds before the trademark black and white credits begin to roll.