The film follows an American journalist and a magician being guided by the spirit of a reporter to investigate a British aristocrat who might be a serial killer.
Following the memorial service for investigative reporter Joe Strombel, his spirit finds himself on the barge of death with several others, including Jane Cook, a woman who believes she was poisoned by her employer, Peter Lyman.
Pransky attends a performance given by magician Sid Waterman, aka "The Great Splendini", and agrees to participate onstage.
Sid prevails upon Sondra to write a news story implicating Lyman, which the editor rejects because of her lack of proof.
Sondra seems flattered, and says she must also credit Joe Strombel and the late Sid Waterman, who is now a passenger on the Reaper's ship, performing for his fellow spirits the same magical gags and comedy routines he did in life.
The lead character (originally an adult journalist) was tailored specifically to Johansson, whom Allen observed as having an unutilized "funny" quality about her while working on his previous film, Match Point.
The website's critical consensus states: "Rehashing old plot lines and characters, Scoop is a tiresome dipper and another disappointing addition to Woody Allen's repertoire.
Scoop is never funny enough — except for the odd, whiny Allen gibe, mainly because it recalls better days — to achieve this dispensation; the lack of realism becomes a crippling attribute.
Woody Allen has written himself an ideal role, creating a character and a situation that result in a continuous stream of winning bits.
[7]Manohla Dargis of The New York Times called it "not especially funny yet oddly appealing": Mr. Allen doesn't seem to be working terribly hard in Scoop, and while that makes for some apparent goofs and lots of ragged edges, it gives the whole thing a pleasantly carefree vibe.
Mr. Allen's invocation of the Thin Man films in an interview makes sense, even if he's no William Powell and Ms. Johansson is certainly no Myrna Loy.
Scoop was made by someone who understands that what makes the "Thin Man" series enduring isn't whodunit and why, but the way Nick and Nora look at each other as they sip their martinis, Asta nipping at their heels.
[8]Ty Burr of The Boston Globe called it "fluffy, fatally implausible farce": You can assume this kind of humor goes over well with the Europeans who are the director's financial backers and primary audience these days.
Like Charlie Chaplin in his final years, Allen has found refuge in exile, far from the US audiences who have turned their backs on him (because we're lowbrow slobs or because his films have stopped being very good; your call).
When we see him onstage as The Great Splendini, Allen even eerily resembles Chaplin in Limelight, shyly smiling out at the audience with the comedian's eternal hope of unconditional love.
[9]The film was ranked as Allen's worst in a 2016 poll of Time Out contributors, with editor Dave Calhoun writing, "It's not radical to call it his low point.