Plot
The protagonist Mort Rifkin’s first dream in Woody Allen’s film Rifkin’s Festival begins with the words: “When I fell asleep that night, I had a strange dream…”
But first, let’s look at what happened before that night. At the start of the film, Mort sits in a warm brown study bathed in sunset light, on a chair because the couch is empty. Mort explains how he suddenly stopped working on the novel he was writing and traveled to a festival in San Sebastián with his wife. His wife was mainly there for work—representing several clients as a press agent. His monologue shifts from fluid and calm, when Rifkin remarks that film festivals no longer bring joy like they used to (a nod to “those were the days”), to passionate when the protagonist reveals the real reason for his trip: “It seemed to me she was obsessed with this film director she was doing PR for.”
The film then transports the viewer to San Sebastián, where Mort arrives with his wife. The mentioned director, Philip, holds a press conference. Mort has a brief conversation with him, during which Philip calls Mort a Grinch. And what does Mort do? Staying true to the Grinch’s character—disgruntled, he dismisses the young director, finding his film banal, as he is interested in deeper things.
The dream sequence begins with a tribute to the film Citizen Kane. A dark, grand mansion, straight out of a horror movie. The camera moves from the gate to a window with a balcony, where the light suddenly goes out.
Outside, snow falls generously.
In the next shot, a typical American house with signs for a butcher’s and a dairy shop. The shot is static, the snow keeps falling. Suddenly, the previously described house shrinks to the size of a palm, now inside a snow globe held by a man.
The camera focuses only on the protagonist’s mouth. Slowly but ominously, he says: “Rose Budnik.” The globe slips from his hand and shatters into many small pieces.
It transitions into the next scene: a man and woman, parents, sit at a table with tea and cakes.
M: “Who?”
W: “Who else… Rose Budnik. She’s dead.”
The man, pushing aside his cup, exclaims: “My God! How?”
The woman, with an “OMG” expression on her face: “She committed suicide.”
The man sighs: “Such an intelligent woman, and an intellectual. Survived the Holocaust!”
The woman, looking ahead: “She left a note saying, ‘My life has lost its meaning; there’s no point in continuing.’”
M: “Listen, it’s crazy to consider life meaningless!”
W: “Well, if you think about it, Max, what is the meaning?”
M: “Heh, you sound like my student.”
W: “Yes, but why are we all here?”
M: “Well, it’s cosmic vibrations” (the man waves his hands). “It just started, and we began to live. If I were in charge, everything would be different.”
During the conversation, in the background, a boy can be seen playing in the snow with a sled in the backyard.
The woman, getting up from the table: “Don’t bring up these topics with Mort. He has nightmares.” She approaches the window, opens it, and calls out: “Mort, come inside. It’s very cold.”
The camera zooms in on the boy’s face, wearing a hat, scarf, and coat. Music starts playing, and the camera slowly descends to the boy’s snow pants, revealing the inscription “Rose Budnik” on them.
Scene
The sudden darkness, the shattered globe… Clearly, existential questions emerge in the dream: foremost, death, the search for meaning, as well as loneliness, freedom, and responsibility. These internal conflicts, along with external ones—his wife’s romantic adventures—are all experienced by the protagonist and find their place in the dream.
The opening frames, referencing Citizen Kane, depict the death scene and Kane’s last words: “Rosebud” (in Allen’s version, transformed into “Rose Budnik”). This sarcastic humor helps cope with the difficult scene.
The sense of meaninglessness is expressed in the dream through Rose’s letter: “My life has lost its meaning; there’s no point in continuing.”
What is the meaning? It remains unanswered. The explanation about “cosmic vibrations” oversimplifies life, reducing it to something mechanical.
“If I were in charge, everything would be different,” the father says. This phrase can be viewed in terms of freedom of choice and responsibility in one’s life. Has Mort lost control of his life’s path? Could this be the voice of grandiosity and a claim to be above others?
The mother’s remark, “Don’t bring up these topics with Mort. He has nightmares,” sounds like a censor breaking into the dream, protecting Mort’s consciousness from confronting difficult questions.
The inscription “Rose Budnik” on the sled at the end of the dream seems, at first glance, threatening: “Are you next?” But if we recall Citizen Kane, Rosebud was a sled company, and for Kane, it likely represented childhood memories, his mother, and the joy of playing in the snow. Perhaps this is Mort’s dream trying to draw attention to the feeling of pure joy and playfulness.
Transfer Experiences
Watching the dream evokes feelings of inevitability and stagnation, though combined with cynical and ironically humorous delivery. The dark imagery and light music act as a protective mechanism, softening unbearable emotions. It’s as if the protagonist laughs in the face of fear. Or perhaps the light music shows that alongside thoughts of life’s inevitable end, one can dance, enjoy, and twirl.
The dream’s frames change abruptly and suddenly, but between these shifts, they remain static and lifeless, cold, and detached—much like Mort’s dialogues. This could reflect Mort’s life, his relationships, and the novel he’s writing. Perhaps because, at this point, everything has lost its spark. But maybe, like the unfinished book Mort can’t complete, or his relationships and other life processes—there’s a fear of putting a period, as that would mean an end?
The dream, saturated with the theme of death, encourages living while alive, playing not with death but with life.
I also think about the film in the context of the director’s own life—Woody Allen, who is 85, has a much younger wife, and alongside the film’s release, he has finished working on his memoirs. I believe the dream and the film itself are compelling because they depict very human experiences, laced with intellectual humor.
