The film that, in the words of one critic, established Woody Allen as the urban poet of our anxiety-ridden age, Hannah and Her Sisters was Allen's most accomplished film since Manhattan. Returning Allen to the landscape of his beloved Manhattan, Hannah was a warm, perceptive, deeply human affair with a distinctly Chekhovian feel (starting from its three sisters motif), a dramatic comedy that elevated longing, discontent, and hope into a kind of artistic expression. The film seemed to differ from Allen's previous works in its attitude; with Hannah, he seemed to reach a state of contentment, pleasing himself as he pleased his audience. The cinema's undisputed kingpin of neurosis and self-doubt, Allen had always produced material that was dependably quick-witted and literate, but tinged with perpetual dissatisfaction. With Hannah, Allen finally appeared to be enjoying himself, and in so doing he set a new standard for both himself and other comedy filmmakers. Rich, intricately detailed, and novel-like in its narrative scope, it was perhaps Allen's most complete and satisfying film, taking its cues from his past work while beckoning in new directions for the future.