The Wood-man cometh, and he goes for broke this time.

Pretty much taking pot-shots at everyone he's ever known, every establishment he can think of, every vice there is, and -- mostly -- himself... that's your basic summary of Deconstructing Harry. Allen is vulgar and crass, wholly unlikeable... but hysterical. Maybe the funniest part of the film is the cast of stars he's lined up, all of whom do nothing but get spit upon the whole time! Suckers! (The movie is told half in reality, half as visualizations of writer Harry Block's (Allen) stories, thus, the large cast.)

At the same time, whore jokes and gallows humor only gets you so far. Harry Block starts to wear thin after awhile, and the movie feels like a 60-minute psychiatric session that rambles for 30 minutes too long. And, Deconstructing Harry gets a big 1/2-star deduction for its nauseating editing by Susan E. Morse (who has edited all of Allen's films since Manhattan). In keeping with the spirit of the movie, I order her to be hanged at sunset and sent to the 9th layer of hell. Ha!

How'm I doing, Harry!?