I have been watching Woody Allen's films since my Dad rented Annie Hall for me at the tender age of 12. I mostly watched Leonardo DiCaprio movies back then and I really did not understand why my Dad wanted me to watch it with him. "Why can't we watch Celebrity Dad? Leo is in that one!" At the time my adolesent brain could not comprehend endless talk about serious relationships and sex or the fact that sometimes normal middle age people do coke at parties around the coffee table. For me, it wasn't an instant hit and I went back to watching Titanic as usual. Years later in college, after blossoming into a young woman with good taste in classic cinema, I watched Annie Hall again and finally appreciated it the way my Dad wished I would have when I was 12. Since Annie Hall, I have seen a number of Woody's movies, but never Hannah and Her Sisters. After meaning to see it for years I finally added it to my Netflix queue and watched it a few nights ago. Hailed by many as Woody Allen's best work, Hannah and Her Sisters was pure magic and I can't believe I am saying this, but I may have liked it better than Annie Hall. There is so much I loved about this movie. I loved Michael Caine's infatuation with Lee and how he wooed her with Bach records and E.E. Cummings poems. I loved how it read like a love letter to NYC showcasing everything beautifully from it's famous architecture to graffti on SoHo walls. I loved the masses of curls and layers upon layers of winter clothes. Most of all I loved the sisters complex relationship and how they always admired and loved each other even through they each had their faults. The movie left me yearning for the sister that my parents failed to give me and wondering if I could bring frizzy hair back.