He goes on: "I'm open-minded about sex. I'm not above reproach; if anything, I'm below reproach. I mean, if I was caught in a love nest with 15 12-year-old girls tomorrow, people would think, yeah, I always knew that about him." Allen pauses. "Nothing I could come up with would surprise anyone," he ventures helplessly. "I admit to it all."
Well, Heywood Allen summed himself up best didn't he?
A nest with 15 12-year-old girls? What thrice married, grown azz man, talks this way?
Old Woody's been a perv for a long time. I am waiting for the kids to come out of the woodwork like they did for the Catholic priests. Just disgusting.
"I think I'm being followed. I don't know who is after me. I feel
the same anxieties everywhere I go—the country, L.A., Europe. It's a
general sense of suspicion, paranoia and fear."
Woody Allen's voice breaks and then rattles nervously into a
laugh. He is peering over the balcony of his penthouse apartment, 18
acrophobic floors above Fifth Avenue. Two searchlights sweep the
Manhattan skyline, an exhilarating view that fills men with visions of
grandeur and omnipotence. Allen merely shivers inside his denim
workshirt and cinches his baggy jeans tighter around his scrawny waist.
"On the surface of things," he acknowledges, "I have no reason to be
this way. I was beaten up the same amount as all the other kids in my
neighborhood. With me it's just a genetic dissatisfaction with
But while the other kids on his Brooklyn block schlepped into
obscurity, it has been Woody Allen's singular brilliance not to purge
his angst but to purvey it. Allen will surely donate his self-lacerating
sense of humor to a medical school someday, but already he has given
the world a sublimely ridiculous body of work: two hit shows on
Broadway; three LPs of nightclub monologues; two best-selling
collections of New Yorker and other satires; and, incredibly, seven
money-making movies, including last year's smash Love and Death, all of which Allen wrote, directed and starred in himself.
Now, at 40, Allen is still diversifying. This month he plays his first serious movie role in The Front,
a McCarthy-era story of showbiz blacklisting which Woody made for
director Martin Ritt "because it seemed like a worthwhile project." Less
nobly, but more visibly, Allen's consummately klutzy life goes
rotogravure next week in a syndicated comic strip titled Inside Woody
Allen. Though Woody shrugs it off as "an amusing notion that's purely
exploratory for me," the strip has already been bought by an
unprecedented 180 newspapers.
Allen has friends among the mighty and access to the most
privileged. Last year, for example, he escorted Betty Ford to a Martha
Graham dance benefit. "We're just good friends," he cracked at the time
of his date with the President's wife. (Now he finds Jimmy Carter the
"far superior" candidate.)
By any measurement Woody Allen is Walter Mitty, whose fantasies
have only to be named to come true. Yet Woody glumly describes himself
as "a neurotic personality prone to depressions and anxieties all the
time." After 20 years of Freudian psychoanalysis he has succeeded only
in reducing his sessions from five to three a week. "I cannot conceive
of living without it," he groans, "but it hasn't helped as much as I'd
hoped. In the normal things that trouble everybody—meeting new people,
crowds, shyness, human relationships—I haven't made much progress at
Even if Woody's minuscule self-image is just another shtik, it's
one that no one believes except possibly himself. Allen's friends are
unanimously devoted to him. His acting company has worked for him so
often it has become an identifiable ensemble. "The most revealing
thing," says cartoonist Joe Marthen, who draws Allen's new strip, "is
that Woody chooses not to wield the incredible power he has when he
works with other people."
In addition to his self-protective humor ("It keeps me from
getting too emotional about things"), Allen's defenses against a
threatening world include a wimpy rain hat he pulls down over his ears, a
nebbish's slouch and a mournful countenance—creating in sum a
Chaplinesque getup which has the inevitable effect of attracting more
laughs. "It happens all the time," he says, "when I'm playing clarinet
[which he does for relaxation at a Manhattan club] or even when I'm just
walking down the street."
These days Woody is editing his latest film, a yet untitled
"funny and engrossing love story" (as he previews it) co-starring his
former lover Diane Keaton and, among others, Paul Simon. "I'll see the
film first," he explains, "and then pick a title." That may be the only
time Woody sees it, since he never watches his movies after editing. "It
would only depress me. I'd say, 'Ohhh, I've screwed up a brilliantly
funny concept.' I'd just want to die."
Success, of course, just increases the burdens of Allen's
gelt-ridden existence. So while he inhabits an understatedly elegant
apartment, decorated with Oriental rugs, Picasso prints and
leather-bound books, Woody himself is a study in genteel shabbiness. He
is (as only the rich can be) blissfully ignorant of finances, claiming
"I haven't cashed a check or been inside a bank in 10 years." Instead
he's attended by an accountant and a live-in cook, as well as patient
friends who keep him in pocket change.
Allen rises at 6 a.m. these days and whirs maniacally into a
schedule that includes, in addition to moviemaking, two hours of daily
clarinet practice, tennis twice a week and buying sprees at book and
record shops (to hunt down albums by jazz favorites like King Oliver and
Jelly Roll Morton). He neither smokes nor drinks nor drives (relying on
a limousine) and is turned off by drugs.
Predictably, Woody's frenetic routine has burned all but 120
pounds off his emaciated, 5'6" frame, despite a diet that would throw a
sumo wrestler into insulin shock. "I have jelly for breakfast, chocolate
bars and cakes with lunch and tons of pie for dinner," he boasts. "I
never gain weight. My skin doesn't break out either."
Notwithstanding the remembered agonies of adolescence, Woody is
still friends with his parents, a retired jewelry engraver and a
bookkeeper, who raised him as Allen Stewart Konigsberg in Brooklyn's
Flatbush district. The real question, of course, is how can Mr. and Mrs.
Konigsberg forgive their son for one-liners like these: "I was
breast-fed on falsies...When I was kidnapped my parents snapped into
action; they rented out my room...They believed equally in God and
carpeting...This gold watch was sold to me by my grandfather on his
deathbed." It is, according to Woody, "just funnier to lean on the
dismal side of growing up."
Even as a student "in a school for emotionally disturbed
teachers," Woody began mailing in gags to Walter Winchell for a couple
of bucks a week. Eventually he made the credits as a $1,700-a-week TV
writer for Sid Caesar, Garry Moore and Jack Paar. His movie career began
in 1965 when he wrote and co-starred with Peter Sellers in What's New, coochiecat?
Along the way Allen's first marriage to a student named Harlene Rosen
(she was 17, he was 19) cracked up. Harlene later sued Woody when his
nightclub act included such first-wife zingers as "The Museum of Natural
History took her shoe and, based on the measurement, they reconstructed
Postmarital relations are better between Woody and Louise (Mary
Hartman) Lasser, who were divorced in 1969 after 11 years together. They
are regularly in touch by phone, and Woody praises Louise as "a
formidable girl, witty and intelligent, who I knew would make it, even
then." Likewise he and Diane Keaton still work well after their 1972
decision that "it wasn't the greatest idea to live together any more."
Woody will admit now only to "dating around" and living with
girls for stretches ranging from "two days to two weeks—if you call that
living together." Could he possibly have mellowed from the days when
his movies rated horniness as a human malaise second only to bubonic
plague? "I try to have sex only with women I like a lot," Woody explains
solemnly. "Otherwise I find it fairly mechanical." (He has little
interest in family life: "It's no accomplishment to have or raise kids.
Any fool can do it.")
He goes on: "I'm open-minded about sex. I'm not above reproach;
if anything, I'm below reproach. I mean, if I was caught in a love nest
with 15 12-year-old girls tomorrow, people would think, yeah, I always
knew that about him." Allen pauses. "Nothing I could come up with would
surprise anyone," he ventures helplessly. "I admit to it all."
Good for her!!! It is truly sickening that he has been able to go on and live a life of fame, fortune and accolades when it was quite obvious for quite some time that this man was messed up. This story will pass like other new stories that don't outrage the public but it should.
Whoopi has really lost my respect since joining the view. First giving a past to a white man saying the "n***er" then she was trying to differentiate between fake rape and real rape, you know "rape rape" and now this. Welp. Glad Sherri is on the view.
yeah, i seriously can't stand her. she's always taking the "im not offended" stance in racial topics giving the green light to white ppl to move on and not try to do better.
The Huffington Post has obtained the 1993 court ruling
denying Woody Allen custody of his three children with Mia Farrow. The
ruling, which has been referenced often but has not yet appeared in full
online, sheds some light on several questions surrounding Dylan
Farrow's allegations that Allen molested her when she was seven years
old. While it does not conclude whether Allen molested Farrow, the
ruling by Justice Elliott Wilk paints a particularly damning portrayal
of Allen the father, describing him as "self-absorbed, untrustworthy and
insensitive," and undercuts the claims that Farrow was "brainwashed" by
her mother into inventing the tale of her sexual molestation.
Wilk's ruling also calls into question the credibility of the much-cited Yale New Haven Hospital study, released Friday by Radar Online,
that concluded that Allen did not molest Farrow and suggested that
Farrow was either coached by her mother or merely a vulnerable child who
fabricated her claims.
Specifically, Wilk writes:
1. "There is no credible evidence to support Mr. Allen's contention that Ms. Farrow coached Dylan."
2. The Yale New Haven study report is "sanitized and, therefore, less credible" owing to a variety of factors.
Mia Farrow was "not faultless as a parent," but, "ironically," her
"principal shortcoming with respect to responsible parenting appears to
have been her continued relationship with Mr. Allen."
Allen's "self-absorption" and "lack of judgment and his commitment to
the continuation of his divisive assault...warrant a careful monitoring
of his future contact with the children."
Ultimately, "we will probably never know what occurred on August 4,
1992...[but] Mr. Allen's behavior toward Dylan was grossly inappropriate
and...measures must be taken to protect her."
The full 33-page document is embedded below. It is a quick and fascinating read. Dig in.
Last Sunday, Nicholas Kristof
wrote a column about Dylan Farrow, the adopted daughter of Woody Allen
and Mia Farrow. Mr. Allen has written the following response to the
column and Dylan’s account.
years ago, when I first heard Mia Farrow had accused me of child
molestation, I found the idea so ludicrous I didn’t give it a second
thought. We were involved in a terribly acrimonious breakup, with great
enmity between us and a custody battle slowly gathering energy. The
self-serving transparency of her malevolence seemed so obvious I didn’t
even hire a lawyer to defend myself. It was my show business attorney
who told me she was bringing the accusation to the police and I would
need a criminal lawyer.
naïvely thought the accusation would be dismissed out of hand because
of course, I hadn’t molested Dylan and any rational person would see the
ploy for what it was. Common sense would prevail. After all, I was a
56-year-old man who had never before (or after) been accused of child
molestation. I had been going out with Mia for 12 years and never in
that time did she ever suggest to me anything resembling misconduct.
Now, suddenly, when I had driven up to her house in Connecticut one
afternoon to visit the kids for a few hours, when I would be on my
raging adversary’s home turf, with half a dozen people present, when I
was in the blissful early stages of a happy new relationship with the
woman I’d go on to marry — that I would pick this moment in time to
embark on a career as a child molester should seem to the most skeptical
mind highly unlikely. The sheer illogic of such a crazy scenario seemed
to me dispositive.
Mia insisted that I had abused Dylan and took her immediately to a
doctor to be examined. Dylan told the doctor she had not been molested.
Mia then took Dylan out for ice cream, and when she came back with her
the child had changed her story. The police began their investigation; a
possible indictment hung in the balance. I very willingly took a
lie-detector test and of course passed because I had nothing to hide. I
asked Mia to take one and she wouldn’t. Last week a woman named Stacey
Nelkin, whom I had dated many years ago, came forward to the press to
tell them that when Mia and I first had our custody battle 21 years ago,
Mia had wanted her to testify that she had been underage when I was
dating her, despite the fact this was untrue. Stacey refused. I include
this anecdote so we all know what kind of character we are dealing with
here. One can imagine in learning this why she wouldn’t take a
the Connecticut police turned for help to a special investigative unit
they relied on in such cases, the Child Sexual Abuse Clinic of the
Yale-New Haven Hospital. This group of impartial, experienced men and
women whom the district attorney looked to for guidance as to whether to
prosecute, spent months doing a meticulous investigation, interviewing
everyone concerned, and checking every piece of evidence. Finally they
wrote their conclusion which I quote here: “It is our expert opinion
that Dylan was not sexually abused by Mr. Allen. Further, we believe
that Dylan’s statements on videotape and her statements to us during our
evaluation do not refer to actual events that occurred to her on August
4th, 1992... In developing our opinion we considered three hypotheses
to explain Dylan’s statements. First, that Dylan’s statements were true
and that Mr. Allen had sexually abused her; second, that Dylan’s
statements were not true but were made up by an emotionally vulnerable
child who was caught up in a disturbed family and who was responding to
the stresses in the family; and third, that Dylan was coached or
influenced by her mother, Ms. Farrow. While we can conclude that Dylan
was not sexually abused, we can not be definite about whether the second
formulation by itself or the third formulation by itself is true. We
believe that it is more likely that a combination of these two
formulations best explains Dylan’s allegations of sexual abuse.”
it be any clearer? Mr. Allen did not abuse Dylan; most likely a
vulnerable, stressed-out 7-year-old was coached by Mia Farrow. This
conclusion disappointed a number of people. The district attorney was
champing at the bit to prosecute a celebrity case, and Justice Elliott
Wilk, the custody judge, wrote a very irresponsible opinion saying when
it came to the molestation, “we will probably never know what occurred.”
we did know because it had been determined and there was no
equivocation about the fact that no abuse had taken place. Justice Wilk
was quite rough on me and never approved of my relationship with
Soon-Yi, Mia’s adopted daughter, who was then in her early 20s. He
thought of me as an older man exploiting a much younger woman, which
outraged Mia as improper despite the fact she had dated a much older
Frank Sinatra when she was 19. In fairness to Justice Wilk, the public
felt the same dismay over Soon-Yi and myself, but despite what it looked
like our feelings were authentic and we’ve been happily married for 16
years with two great kids, both adopted. (Incidentally, coming on the
heels of the media circus and false accusations, Soon-Yi and I were
extra carefully scrutinized by both the adoption agency and adoption
courts, and everyone blessed our adoptions.)
Mia took custody of the children and we went our separate ways.
was heartbroken. Moses was angry with me. Ronan I didn’t know well
because Mia would never let me get close to him from the moment he was
born and Dylan, whom I adored and was very close to and about whom Mia
called my sister in a rage and said, “He took my daughter, now I’ll take
his.” I never saw her again nor was I able to speak with her no matter
how hard I tried. I still loved her deeply, and felt guilty that by
falling in love with Soon-Yi I had put her in the position of being used
as a pawn for revenge. Soon-Yi and I made countless attempts to see
Dylan but Mia blocked them all, spitefully knowing how much we both
loved her but totally indifferent to the pain and damage she was causing
the little girl merely to appease her own vindictiveness.
I quote Moses Farrow, 14 at the time: “My mother drummed it into me to
hate my father for tearing apart the family and sexually molesting my
sister.” Moses is now 36 years old and a family therapist by profession.
“Of course Woody did not molest my sister,” he said. “She loved him and
looked forward to seeing him when he would visit. She never hid from
him until our mother succeeded in creating the atmosphere of fear and
hate towards him.” Dylan was 7, Ronan 4, and this was, according to
Moses, the steady narrative year after year.
pause here for a quick word on the Ronan situation. Is he my son or, as
Mia suggests, Frank Sinatra’s? Granted, he looks a lot like Frank with
the blue eyes and facial features, but if so what does this say? That
all during the custody hearing Mia lied under oath and falsely
represented Ronan as our son? Even if he is not Frank’s, the possibility
she raises that he could be, indicates she was secretly intimate with
him during our years. Not to mention all the money I paid for child
support. Was I supporting Frank’s son? Again, I want to call attention
to the integrity and honesty of a person who conducts her life like
it’s 21 years later and Dylan has come forward with the accusations
that the Yale experts investigated and found false. Plus a few little
added creative flourishes that seem to have magically appeared during
our 21-year estrangement.
that I doubt Dylan hasn’t come to believe she’s been molested, but if
from the age of 7 a vulnerable child is taught by a strong mother to
hate her father because he is a monster who abused her, is it so
inconceivable that after many years of this indoctrination the image of
me Mia wanted to establish had taken root? Is it any wonder the experts
at Yale had picked up the maternal coaching aspect 21 years ago? Even
the venue where the fabricated molestation was supposed to have taken
place was poorly chosen but interesting. Mia chose the attic of her
country house, a place she should have realized I’d never go to because
it is a tiny, cramped, enclosed spot where one can hardly stand up and
I’m a major claustrophobe. The one or two times she asked me to come in
there to look at something, I did, but quickly had to run out.
Undoubtedly the attic idea came to her from the Dory Previn song, “With
My Daddy in the Attic.” It was on the same record as the song Dory
Previn had written about Mia’s betraying their friendship by insidiously
stealing her husband, André, “Beware of Young Girls.” One must ask, did
Dylan even write the letter or was it at least guided by her mother?
Does the letter really benefit Dylan or does it simply advance her
mother’s shabby agenda? That is to hurt me with a smear. There is even a
lame attempt to do professional damage by trying to involve movie
stars, which smells a lot more like Mia than Dylan.
all, if speaking out was really a necessity for Dylan, she had already
spoken out months earlier in Vanity Fair. Here I quote Moses Farrow
again: “Knowing that my mother often used us as pawns, I cannot trust
anything that is said or written from anyone in the family.” Finally,
does Mia herself really even believe I molested her daughter? Common
sense must ask: Would a mother who thought her 7-year-old daughter was
sexually abused by a molester (a pretty horrific crime), give consent
for a film clip of her to be used to honor the molester at the Golden
course, I did not molest Dylan. I loved her and hope one day she will
grasp how she has been cheated out of having a loving father and
exploited by a mother more interested in her own festering anger than
her daughter’s well-being. Being taught to hate your father and made to
believe he molested you has already taken a psychological toll on this
lovely young woman, and Soon-Yi and I are both hoping that one day she
will understand who has really made her a victim and reconnect with us,
as Moses has, in a loving, productive way. No one wants to discourage
abuse victims from speaking out, but one must bear in mind that
sometimes there are people who are falsely accused and that is also a
terribly destructive thing. (This piece will be my final word on this
entire matter and no one will be responding on my behalf to any further
comments on it by any party. Enough people have been hurt.)
Dylan Farrow's Feb. 1 open letter to The New York Times detailing sexual molestation she says she suffered at the hands of her father Woody Allen reignited a controversy that has divided their family bitterly for more than 20 years.
Now her brother Moses Farrow is speaking out to defend Allen – and accuse their mother, Mia Farrow, of poisoning the children against their father.
"My mother drummed it into me to hate my father for tearing apart the family and sexually molesting my sister," Moses, 36, tells PEOPLE in the magazine's new issue. "And I hated him for her for years. I see now that this was a vengeful way to pay him back for falling in love with Soon-Yi."
A Family Divided
and Dylan, 28, both adopted by Allen and Farrow, and their brother
Ronan, 26, were in the center of a 1993 custody battle in which both
sides testified about Allen's affair with Farrow's adopted daughter
Soon-Yi Previn, whom Allen went on to marry in 1997. Farrow was awarded
custody of the couple's three children. (In total, she has 14 kids from
her marriages and solo adoptions.) Allen, 78, who was investigated but
not charged with molestation, has for decades denied abusing Dylan,
maintaining that Farrow, 69, coached Dylan, an accusation Farrow has
"Of course Woody did not molest my sister," says Moses, who is estranged from Farrow and many of his siblings and is close to Allen and Soon-Yi. "She
loved him and looked forward to seeing him when he would visit. She
never hid from him until our mother succeeded in creating the atmosphere
of fear and hate towards him. The day in question, there were six or
seven of us in the house. We were all in public rooms and no one, not my
father or sister, was off in any private spaces. My mother was
conveniently out shopping. I don’t know if my sister really believes she
was molested or is trying to please her mother. Pleasing my mother was
very powerful motivation because to be on her wrong side was horrible."
Dylan insists that she is telling the truth.
"This is such a betrayal to me and my whole family," she tells PEOPLE in response to her brother's comments. "My memories are the truth and they are mine and I will live with that for the rest of my life."
"My mother never coached me," Dylan says.
"She never planted false memories in my brain. My memories are mine. I
remember them. She was distraught when I told her. When I came forward
with my story she was hoping against hope that I had made it up. In one
of the most heartbreaking conversations I have ever had, she sat me down
and asked me if I was telling the truth. She said that Dad said he
didn’t do anything. and I said, 'He's lying.' "
Moses accuses Farrow of bullying him as well. "Our mother has misled the public into believing it was a happy household of both biological and adopted children," he says. "From
an early age, my mother demanded obedience and I was often hit as a
child. She went into unbridled rages if we angered her, which was
intimidating at the very least and often horrifying, leaving us not
knowing what she would do."
"I don't know where he gets this about getting beaten," counters Dylan. "We were sent to our rooms sometimes."
"I will not see my family dragged down like this," she adds. "I
can't stay silent when my family needs me and I will not abandon them
like Soon-Yi and Moses. My brother is dead to me. My mother is so brave
and so courageous and taught me what it means to be strong and brave and
tell the truth even in the face of these monstrous lies."
Farrow, who declined to respond to Moses's accusations, Tweeted, "I
love my daughter. I will always protect her. A lot of ugliness is going
to be aimed at me. But this is not about me, it's about her truth."
Moses, a family therapist, says that his own life has been made better by spending time with Allen.
"I think my sister is missing a great deal in life in not reconnecting with her father, who had always adored her," he says. "It’s
important that she assert her independence from our mother and not go
through life with the false impression that she has been molested by my
father. I am very happy I have come into my own power, separating from
my mother, which has led to a positive reunion with my father."
Allen's family says that the director is devastated by Dylan's letter.
"This is a horrible, horrible tragedy," Allen's sister Letty Aronson tells PEOPLE. "He feels very badly for Dylan, that she has been so poisoned by her mother."
Dylan, of course, feels very differently.
"I have a wonderful family," she says. "We are brave and we are truthful and anyone who says anything otherwise does not know us."
• With reporting by K.C. BAKER
much more on this story, including details of Dylan's and Woody Allen's
lives now and an update on all of Farrow's children, look for this
week's issue of People on newsstands Friday
You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot create polls in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum