If there were any filmmaker to make an introspective film about sex, one would be hard pressed to find a more promising candidate than Woody Allen. After touching upon sexual habits and practices in just about every one of his early films, the prospect of an entire template bared for Allen to strictly explore the act of sex and sexuality in general for the course of a film was ripe with possibility. Unfortunately, it appears such was never Allen's intention, as he delivers one of his least complex films, eschewing his trademark psychological character analysis and musings in favour of a series of patchy, often single joke gags pertaining to various unconnected sexual issues and situations. While this atypical effort is hardly a poor result, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex *But Were Afraid to Ask does fall short of its potential, the daring, challenging and hilarious cinematic exploration which might have been instead culminating as enjoyable, cute, and often very funny, but never fully satisfying throughout.

It becomes clear that Allen seized the concept of the novel as a loose framework to string together a series of punchlines, making the overall feel of the film appear overly patchy to properly gel together, even for a series of unrelated short narratives. Such a lack of cohesion would be more forgivable were the skits themselves not so hit and miss in terms of quality. There is no question that when funny the film is at Allen's most memorably zany and inspired: his homage to Italian film-making, dealing with exhibitionism is hilarious and effortlessly stylish, a send up of campy science fiction showing a giant breast rampaging the countryside is gleefully hysterical madness, and his legendary final sketch, detailing the inner workings of the brain and sperm during sexual intercourse is a masterpiece of comedic cunning and genius. However, these sketches would be far more enjoyable were they not punctuated with just as many comedic duds: many, such as the opening, with Allen's medieval 'fool' attempting to seduce a queen and the 'What's My Perversion?' game show, though brilliant premises, are far too drawn out, mirthless and shockingly unfunny.

It is disconcerting to see such amateurish storytelling coupled with the sporadic comedic genius, giving the impression of the shorts being shot over a period of several years with Allen cinematically maturing in the process. As this was not the case, the film as a whole suggests a disconcerting lapse in the shrewd cinematic awareness which subsequently defined Allen as a filmmaker. This fluctuating quality makes Allen's touching upon sensitive subject matter a precarious matter: one skit, dealing with the thrill of cross-dressing, ends with it being classified as a serious mental illness in a fashion likely intended to be satirical, but in the absence of quality screen writing, the moral stance of the piece becomes uncomfortably questionable. This may expose the crux of the film's problem - given that Allen's comedic strength generally lies in his witty, perceptive dialogue, the severe lapse of confident screen writing may explain the film's inability, even during its most classic sequences, to truly satisfy. Nonetheless, it remains a testament to Allen as a director that even with such a potentially disastrous cinematic undertaking, even when severely flawed, such a daring undertaking remains irrepressibly enjoyable and memorable - it is just a shame that enjoyable is as far as the film reaches, considering the comedic depth and psychological resonance a more confident, present Allen could have mined from the subject matter.

Performing his four roles, Woody Allen himself demonstrates his greater confidence as a performer than filmmaker in his early days, each character (from aroused jester to wary Italian to nerdy sci-fi hero to neurotic sperm) being charming and irreverently clever enough to instil enjoyment into even the shoddiest sketches. While the rest of the cast deliver enjoyable performances, they fail to ignite with the awareness and comedic confidence present in most of Allen's other works. The main standout is an outrageously tender and absorbing performance by Gene Wilder, as a good hearted doctor who happens to fall in love with a sheep. This sodomy sequence could have failed miserably, were it not for the complete conviction and commitment Wilder devotes to the role, having the good sense to play it straight rather than overly goofy, and in the process, capturing the viewer's sympathies and hearts with his earnest, idealistic eyes to an almost alarming degree. Apart from these two, Lynn Redgrave delivers pseudo-medieval babble warmly and charmingly as a subtly seduced Queen, John Carradine masticates scenery viciously as a crazed mad scientist, and Lou Jacobi is delightfully trod upon during the cross dressing skit, but otherwise few memorable performances emerge.

Despite the potential inherent in the film's premise, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex *But Were Afraid to Ask restricts its aims to entertaining and playing mildly upon public perceptions of various sexual practices and situations, offering little in the way of complexity or resonance. While the film can hardly be faulted for attempting to entertain, there is a constant sense of "what it" which plagues the film, the lack of Allen's usual neat coherence and introspective overtones stunting even the most uproariously enjoyable sections from truly hitting home.

-7/10