There's sometimes a tendency to take for granted what Woody Allen can do when he makes films "outside the box". Usually, the box for Allen is considered to be tragic-comic takes on neurotic personalities in modern Manhattan. But a film like the Purple Rose of Cairo displays his gifts at spinning stories that are unexpected and, actually, really delightful. Years before he made Everyone Says I Love You, which was also a big 30's Hollywood homage, Purple Rose of Cairo was a nifty take on the separation between fantasy and reality (or as one of my friends calls 'magic realism') and how it relates to the depression and the escapism inherent in those fluffy romantic adventures. Cecille (Mia Farrow) is the one who takes the full trip down the movie-hole, so to speak, when she meets Tom (Jeff Daniels)- except that Tom is a movie character, who's seen Cecille so many times seeing him in the movie that he walks off the screen and falls in love with her. But things are complicated by two things- Cecille's brutish, one-track-minded husband (Danny Aiello), and the actor who's really playing Tom, Gil, who also falls for Cecille when he comes to town to rectify the situation. Meanwhile, the Purple Rose of Cairo's characters, on the screen I mean, seem to be completely unable to function.<br /><br />What Allen has best of all in this film is a deft ability to mix sensibilities all within a wonderfully fantastical backdrop. If anything else it also reminded me of was the recent Pan's Labyrinth, where a little girl left the dire problems of the real world, also with a brutish figure of ugly masculinity, and when in the fantasy world, even a flawed fantasy world, it's much more inviting than what the real world has to offer. But the question comes for Cecille, as it did for Ofelia in the other picture, how to balance the two, and what really should not be taken for granted. Can Tom really provide true love for Cecille, or Gil, or her real husband? Probably none completely, which makes up the sadder part of the picture. But Allen also has too much warmth going on, in humor as well as his affection for the up-front plastic appeal of 30s movie characters and atmosphere, to make things sour for too long. Farrow's totally empathetic as the waitress-turned-apple-of-Tom/Gil's-eyes, who brings out a really touching feeling in a viewer during the last minutes of the film, as she looks up at the screen and provides what Allen claimed *was* his happy ending. Daniels is also excellent in one of his best turns as a figurehead of innocence (i.e. when Tom's invited to the whorehouse) as well as Hollywood pragmatism that gets peeled away slightly. And Aiello, in his minutes on screen, adds that perfect level of crushing realism needed for the period.<br /><br />With a few unforgettable Allen moments, like when Cecille herself goes into the movie (and one character's self-realization after discovering the wonders of, gasp, improvisation), or when Tom can't pay for a meal cause he has 'movie-money', Purple Rose of Cairo is one of those fuzzy but rare treats in the movies where we're reminded why we go to the movies in the first place. It's a fable that's also rare for the filmmaker to take on, but as a sort of challenge he makes it one of his most charming and well-crafted films.