Jasmine is only the latest in a long career of powerful female characters, and, as played by Cate Blanchett, might be the best. Let me say it upfront: her performance is a knockout. She’s tremendous, and every bit of acclaim she’s received, and surely will continue to, couldn’t have been more earned. The accent, her body language, the nuanced fragility of her voice, these are all the makings of a best actress win. She probably will win, too. Blanchett nails who Jasmine was and brings together many underlying themes of the piece with her performance. Jasmine is narcissistic, manipulative, pretentious, and compulsively uncaring to anyone around her. That is, to anyone who doesn't serve her goals in life. On paper, she’s unlikable. Most actresses would play her as unlikeable. How couldn’t they? Blanchett doesn’t. Jasmine has an artificial warmth easily mistaken for the real thing, which, along with a pent-up sophisticated aura she’s cultivated for herself, she’s a hot item for men. Her sister, Ginger, blames it on Jasmine getting all the good genes which mask her nasty interior self. One could say Jasmine’s entire character is an extended metaphor, or criticism, for the 1%, where men and women are born into prosperity and status without deserving it. They proceed to take what the “less fortunate” (genes, in the film’s case) can’t have, and thrive while others suffer. The entire narrative works on a similarly metaphoric level, and to flesh out these themes, Allen’s employed a tip top cast. Sally Hawkins plays Jasmine’s sister with the shining perseverance the role required. She has her own sort of status, but Jasmine can’t see it. Loved comedian Louis C.K. has what amounts to an extended cameo, and, unsurprisingly, he’s a lot of fun. The rest of the class, including Bobby Cannavale and Andrew Dice Clay, do sound work too.

To dramatize Jasmine’s frenetic mental state, her subjectivity plays an overwhelming role in the story arc of the film. As her mind is whisked away and wanders, so does the screenplay. In this way she not only overpowers the characters around her, but the actual film itself. I’m talking of course about the flashbacks throughout, which almost always seem to be active intrusions on her present day consciousness rather than a plain storytelling tool for context. Her flashbacks are out of order, occasionally misleading, and often meaningfully related to what she’s confronted with in her present life. This is a clever narrative device and serves multiple purposes at the same time. The audience is given exposition on her past, while keeping us in the dark just enough to cultivate suspense. Because of the tragic context with which we see them, the sunny smiles and thousand dollar handbags bear a bitter undertone. From an audience point of view, the interplay between present and past is reasonably complex and also dramatically compelling. It also gives Allen a chance to show off some of the tricks he has learned as a filmmaker over the years. The colors and sounds of one scene melt into the next with well-placed edits, and old school tricks like those give the film a sophistication younger filmmakers ought to study.

With his latest picture, it’s never been clearer, Allen’s on fire. Relevant, refined, and deeply emotional, Blue Jasmine is one of his best late-career films, and Blanchett is a sensation.

B+