A timeless film and a near-masterpiece. A clever treatise on aristocracy and class. Gorgeous to look at with precise scenes and remarkable acting, it only dawns on you slowly that you are watching an udderly nihilistic film. Or is it? If a character accepts and engages in nihilism, but wants, at heart, to be proven wrong, does it redeem him? No, probably not. Nor does it assuage disgusted viewers who find this film misogynistic (I won’t argue that it isn’t). I have two minor complaints. One is that it treads awfully close at times to Allen’s previous masterpiece “Crimes and Misdemeanors” (one scene is almost verbatim), the other is involving dream sequence/soliloquy too late in the film. I feel that if that device is going to be used it needs to be throughout. Not that the story-as-opera isn’t evident from early on (reviewers who pooh-pooh the script just don’t get what is going on here.) Opera plays a big role and this is the closest Woody has come to full on opera since “Hannah and Her Sisters.” Going British is a nice twist, too, but there’s a direct link from Evelyn Waugh to the Marx Brothers, isn’t there?