Los Angeles, 1930s. Bobby Dorfman leaves New York to try his luck in Hollywood. Leaving behind the family business and his gangster brother, he relies on his Uncle Phil, a powerful agent to the stars, to help him discover the business and find a job in his agency. But when Bobby meets Veronica, a secretary he immediately falls for, his life takes an unexpected and very complicated turn.

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Again this odd feeling of dissatisfaction: a new Woody Allen movie, lazy with charm, about yet another bittersweet love affair, with a luxurious cast to gloss over the failings of a simplistic plot. In the same vein as Midnight in Paris, Magic in the Moonlight and Irrational Man, Cafe Society belongs to those tiny, serialized bits of entertainment by the legendary filmmaker that can be moderately appreciated and in the end offer a small cinematic souvenir. It would have taken much more than Kristen Stewart (perfect and bright) to give life to Cafe Society: a movie starved of energy, imagination and necessary silliness. Despite the superb lighting of Vittorio Storaro, the director of photography of Apocalypse Now, which creates a spellbinding atmosphere, the film is a disembodied parade of stars that is neither funny nor touching. It again confirms that good, original and surprising Woody Allen movies (Match Point, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Blue Jasmine) are increasingly rare and precious.