Set in 1940, "Jade Scorpion" begins as skirt-chasing insurance investigator C.W. Briggs (Allen) butts heads with the new woman in the office, Betty Ann Fitzgerald (Helen Hunt). Fitzgerald is determined to streamline things at the company, namely Briggs.
At a company party, Briggs and Fitzgerald are hypnotized and implanted with the notion that they are madly in love with each other, but only when prompted by a code word. The hypnotist, played by the wonderful David Ogden Stiers, then uses their altered states to induce them to boost the jewels their company works so hard to protect.
Hunt is curiously miscast as Fitzgerald. Casting female characters has always been one of Allen's strong suits-Diane Keaton, Diane Weist and Mia Farrow have all been wonderful for him-but, as Hunt proves, you can't win 'em all. Hunt looks unnatural, is never funny and remains emotionally static, in no way inviting the viewer's sympathy or even interest.
Allen, by contrast, comes off as an old pro. While he is far too old to be playing a romantic lead, nobody has his timing or delivery.
A couple of Allen's favorite supporting actors also shine: the aforementioned Stiers, whose voice alone could have carried off his part, and Wallace Shawn, who by simply standing on screen with a vacant stare manages to upstage Hunt.
It's clear Allen thinks this is a fun movie, and "Jade Scorpion" certainly ranks among his lighter fare. Unfortunately, many of the jokes are too verbose to be funny, especially those delivered by Hunt, whose leaden delivery does not help matters.
The film suffers from an uncharacteristic lack of subtlety. Allen is wont to pepper his films with one-liners and jokes so liberally that it often takes a couple viewings to catch them all, and even at that seven of 10 are winners. Here, Allen frontloads the script with jokes that not only don't pay off, but once these fireworks are over, all that's left is smoke. I doubt that a second viewing would deliver the way that "Manhattan" still does, unless the man in his age has grown even craftier still. (I'll have to watch it again, I suppose.) The action rises well, by virtue of the plot's not unattractive breeziness, but the final showdown, owes more to "Murder, She Wrote" than the inspired denouements of Allen's previous capers.
To be fair, the '40s never look so good as when they're in Allen's care, with luminous costumes and warm lighting setting the visual tone, and Allen's wit can't hide behind even his worst-written script, as he delivers chuckles at the expense of sex, religion and Republicans.
All in all, "Jade Scorpion" is not a bad movie. But in the scope of his artistic achievements, this is Woody Allen Lite, closer to Less Filling than Tastes Great.