We all owe our lives to Woody Allen. If Woody Allen had never been born, I’m sure I would be doomed to a life of celibacy.
Remember the aforementioned woman who loved Cusack and Coldplay? There is absolutely no way I could have dated this person if Woody Allen didn’t exist. In tangible terms, she was light-years out of my league, along with most of the other women I’ve slept with.
But Woody Allen changed everything. Woody Allen made it acceptable for beautiful women to sleep with nerdy, bespectacled goofballs; all we need to do is fabricate the illusion of intellectual humor, and we somehow have a chance.
The irony is that many of the women most susceptible to this scam haven’t even seen any of Woody’s movies, nor would they want to touch the actual Woody Allen if they ever had the chance (especially since he’s proven to be an über-pervy clarinet freak).
If asked, most of these foxy ladies wouldn’t classify Woody Allen as sexy, or handsome, or even likable.
But this is how media devolution works: It creates an archetype that eventually dwarfs its origin.
By now, the “Woody Allen Personality Type” has far greater cultural importance than the man himself.
Chuck Klosterman, 'Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto'
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H122IJ6/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_Oy5jAbP2HBR8Z