Its been a while since a Woody Allen film evoked anything like raw emotion. His 1996 movie musical Everyone Says I Love You had its characters spinning in a delightful tizzy reminiscent of golden age Hollywood, but there wasnt a believable human relationship in it. His last two films, Celebrity and Deconstructing Harry, launched some dead-on potshots at the empty hysteria of modern life, but they ultimately amounted to very good one-line jokes, prompting unfair reflection that Allen had become too bitter and insular for his own good.

The directors latest, the fanciful Sweet and Lowdown, is in most respects a minor work of art, though it is pleasant and interesting. But enthusiasts should note that it represents something of a breakthrough for Allen, in that the main character, fictional 30s jazz guitarist Emmet Ray (Sean Penn), is a brooding, inarticulate, freewheeling figure motivated by moody emotions. Sure, hes neurotic as hell, but not in the style of nebbishy self-analysis that has informed so many Allen protagonists. Emmets comic/pathetic exploits are governed by the cadences of jazz, which has always been a background presence in Allens movies but takes center stage here. Although his personal life is an unstable mess and his treatment of women is worse than sub-par, Emmet Rays relationship with his musicand with his female musesburns with open-hearted sincerity. Though the loose series of vignettes that make up Sweet and Lowdown cohere less than perfectly, the directors affection for his subject is obvious and catching.

Emmets story is told in the form of a mock-biography, with the commentary of Allen and a few other jazz authorities interspliced between sequences of Emmets flickering Depression-era career. Allen takes a genial swipe at all of those documentaries in which scholars pose as talking heads, theorizing about their favorite historical figure. The cerebral structure of the movie draws attention to the fictional nature of the whole biographical enterprise: even if Emmet were a real figure, re-constructing his life would still be an art of grappling with, and perhaps smoothing over, the complexities of a man whose only legacy was his music. Allen says of his creation: He was funny. Or if funny is the wrong word, sort of pathetic in a way. I mean he was flamboyant and he was boorish and obnoxious. The documentary conceit has the effect of making the story feel distant and made-up, but it also allows the screenplay to be uninhibited about making the characters into pure flights of fancy, without worrying too much about contradiction or consistency. The movie is more interested in portraying what we might imagine the life of a 30s jazzman would be like than getting bogged down in the nitty-gritty aspects of biographical recreation.

Allen is lucky that his clever though slight concept is bolstered by actors who breathe an impressive amount of life into their limited characters. Sean Penn gleefully slips into Emmets skin. Stuttering, overconfident and vulnerable, Emmet is a bundle of nervous tics that Penn knows how to make believable. Emmet is, in addition to being a performance artist, a kleptomaniac, pimp and all-around heel, who somehow comes off as a nice guy despite himself. The running joke of the movie is that Emmet Ray is the second greatest jazz guitarist of his time, and the two times that Emmet has encountered number one, the real-life figure Django Reinhardt (this Gypsy guitar player from France), he fainted on sight. Penn handles the movies many slapstick moments with gusto, including a terrific scene in which Emmet crashes through the roof of a counterfeiting operation in an attempt to escape a third meeting with Django. These moments of light comedy are also nicely tempered by Penn, who can give dignity to the scummiest of cads. He clearly understands his characters desire to be more than a punchline.

But the real jewel of the film is Samantha Morton as Hattie, a mute laundress who tries to tries to take up Emmet as a lover. Looking like she just stepped out of a silent film, Morton gives a performance that, without a single line of actual dialogue, matches Penns in intensity and sheer entertainment value. Her expressive eyes and Groucho Marx facial expressions make her the perfect foil for Emmets self-absorbed rambling. Its so clear that the two are right for each other that when Emmet totally fails to realize the value of Hatties unconditional love, we realize just how long it has been since one of Allens films has successfully depicted this emotion. Morton makes the most of the characters obvious comic possibilities, including her voracious appetite for both sex and food but also manages to infuse her with dignity. Given the Academys recent penchant for rewarding supporting actresses in Allen films (Dianne Wiest, Mira Sorvino 89), Morton may be the reason Sweet and Lowdown gets remembered at awards time.

Despite its short running time the movie does occasionally become tiresome in its second half, when Morton drops out of the picture to make way for a fancier enchantress. Unfortunately, Uma Thurman disappoints as Blanche, an Anais Nin wannabe with a fetish for performing geniuses: the amusing concept of her character doesnt justify her time on screen. The period detail, though sumptuously photographed by Chinese cinematographer Zhao Fei, doesnt hold interest on its own. Happily, the film finds its way back again in the end when Emmet shows up outside Hatties laundry. A lovely scene between Penn and Morton in the films final reel allows Allen to hone in on his message about the emotions which drive real musical artistry.

The films coda is satisfying enough on both an intellectual and an emotional level, but the very concept of Sweet and Lowdown, with its invented biographical framework and loosely connected scenes, works against the film burning itself in your memory. Even Penns fiery Emmet is too contained by the movies conceit to really stick with you. Perhaps its symbolic of what Allen has achieved here that Mortons Hattie is the only character who transcends the movies clever but self-limiting setup. Though Allen is traditionally known for his witty, fast-paced dialogue, youll remember her silent, expressive eyes long after everything else about Sweet and Lowdown has faded away.