Muriel Hemingway’s memoir suggests Allen in Manhattan was Allen in real life:
Hemingway’s memoir destroys that separation once and for all. Woody Allen was Isaac, and quite possibly still is. Thankfully for her, Mariel Hemingway was not Tracy — stronger and smarter and more sure of her own instincts, even as the adults she should have been able to trust were willing to sell her out for the sake of her career and anything they stood to gain from it. There are still many people who don’t believe Dylan Farrow when she says Allen sexually abused her as a child. The scandal over Allen’s affair with and subsequent marriage to his ex-partner Mia Farrow’s daughter Soon Yi Previn has long since subsided into a “well, it seems to be working out for them” shrug. That’s his messy personal life, people might say, but ah, his art! But Hemingway’s revelation demands we look unflinchingly at the reality that “Manhattan” so artfully disguised as art, and see it for what it truly is. Woody Allen is a genius. Woody Allen is a predator. He put those two sides of himself together, hand in hand, and dared us to applaud. And we did — over and over. We all have our blind spots, but after a while, we also have to admit what we have deliberately refused to see.