Jeff Goldblum shirtless in Jurassic Park

Going for the Goldblum

Get excited, everybody! I’ve got a new project coming up on Pop Culture Crazy in a few weeks: Going for the Goldblum!

It’s been difficult to choose what to highlight. Jeff Goldblum’s career is in its fortieth year. But, obviously, we’ll hit the big titles—your Jurassic Parks, your The Flys, your Transylvania 6-5000s…

Where I’m really struggling is with some of the older movies and TV roles. Does The Right Stuff deserve its own entry? (Of course, because space program. Who cares that Goldblum was only in it long enough to tick things on clipboard and puke off a boat? Not this lady. I’m always here for astronaut-adjacent puke.) What about the episode of Laverne & Shirley? Or Faerie Tale Theatre? Where would I even find a copy of an episode of American Playhouse?

(If you know where I can find a copy of any episodes of American Playhouse, CALL ME.)

But the bigger question is: how do you cover a movie by a filmmaker you’ve chosen to avoid?

Which brings us to Annie Hall. Right now it’s not going to make the cut. Not because Goldblum’s barely in it. We’ve covered that; there’s no threshold for inclusion here, as you’ll see when we hit the first post about Goldblum’s early career.

I’m skipping Annie Hall because I don’t watch Woody Allen movies.

It didn’t start as a deliberate protest. Allen’s movies just, frankly, seemed like big bores. There are enough middle-aged white dudes telling stories about their tedious world-views and romantic entanglements that it hardly made a dent in the must-be-watched pile to drop one or two dozen. After a while, it was easier to keep avoiding than to seek any out.

(I have actually seen one Woody Allen movie in my life: The Purple Rose of Cairo. It was on HBO for a month or so during a summer many years ago, usually right after the morning block of children’s programming had ended. I happened to land on the right channel as it was just starting, probably while trying to remember where MTV2 was. I didn’t know it was a Woody Allen movie until the credits at the end.

The script was okay, and the directing mostly unmemorable. The only scene that stands out in my memory is when Tom Baxter stepped out of the screen and into Cecilia’s orbit. Jeff Daniels, in his dual roles, was both endearing and buffoonish. Mia Farrow was funny and deceptively fragile. The ending was a delight, precisely because it wasn’t. I’ve never watched it again.)

But what started as apathy became a deliberate protest. I’m not interested in supporting anything Woody Allen produces. What I’ve had to encounter of him just from living my life as a consumer of news and pop culture is enough. You could not pay me enough to sit through a film filtered entirely through his sensibility. (Although I’m willing to entertain high-dollar offers to test this theory, btw. CALL ME.)

So, it’s off the list. In the interest of being thorough, though, here’s Jeff Goldblum looking fly as hell with his one line in Annie Hall:

You’re welcome.

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