A, B, C... Manhattan

I first saw this on TV and was impressed by the end more than the rest of the film. The end struck me as vivid yet poignant and has stuck in my mind ever since. Yes, there are other memorable moments including a scene that may offend those with genteel manners, but most of the time I was not fully engaged in the three stories presented because each had a world-weariness that was monotone and painfully drab. I guess the director was making some kind of anti-glamorous statement about the reality of lowlife NYers in a twisted Altmanesque kind of way yet this is no Short Cuts. The characters seem too self-involved to express any transparency to the viewer and without empathy the film is totally at sea, drowning in its endless replication of lost women in a city that does not understand them; a city whose streets envelop them in isolation before releasing their barren souls to self-pity and doubt.