I could never sit all the way through "Annie Hall." Each sound bite was amusing, but it was just 500 mildly amusing jokes, one after the other. No builup, no rhythm, no direction, no point: The comedic equivalent to a Wilson Phillips album. Did it somehow turn gay at the end, or are you just associating it with Lower-east-side, granola-munching, evian-drinking "villagers"? It seemed more metrosexual than homosexual. Even metrosexuals don't like Garland and Streissand; they jus don't hate people who love them.
Close enough.