“Alvy, you’re incapable of enjoying life, you know that?” asks a waifish Diane Keaton behind the tortoiseshell frames of her sunglasses. “I mean, you’re like New York City. You’re just this person. You’re like this island unto yourself.” Taken aback, Alvy shuffles through verbiage, stifled by his “chronic Los Angeles nausea” upon revisiting his ex-lover […]