J. Hoberman

“The Purple Rose of Cairo is only the second feature Allen has directed without appearing in it, and Farrow is clearly his alter ego. She has the Woody Allen lines and whine down to a science. ("You kiss perfectly," Farrow exclaims after being bussed by Baxter. "It's what I've always dreamed kissing could be.") But she's not permitted his bleak sense of humor, and her character soon grows tiresome. A splendid bimbo in Broadway Danny Rose, Mia is here far too dear a waif--so unwordly she makes Lillian Gish seem like a Joan Collins swinger. Farrow is purely a victim, and the bombastic scenes where she's bullied by the hulking Aiello aren't just unfunny, they're actually unpleasant.

“With Farrow thus a vaguely guilt-inducing presence, Allen milks his finest gags out of Baxter's engaging inability to cope with the real world….

“…. There's a sense in which The Purple Rose of Cairo is a tribute to Hollywood--but it's an insincere one at heart. Farrow's reverent expression as she reimmerses herself in a film at fade-out is reminiscent of John Hurt's glazed stupor at the end of 1984. Allen, who if nothing else has redefined the nature of screen stardom to encompass himself, has left his leading lady stranded in Room 101.”

J. Hoberman
Village Voice, March 12, 1985