Here's something I liked about Diane Keaton. Her creativity spilled out from the confines of the "actor" mold. She had that odd gift for clothing herself in surprising ways. And she wrote well; "Then Again" is a good book. My spouse wanted to watch "The Godfather" this weekend, but my own thoughts turned to "Manhattan Murder Mystery," my favorite Diane Keaton film. This appeared in the world at a time when I was still young enough to imagine a "blurred" line between fiction and nonfiction--the idea of the murder was "real" to me. As Keaton's character--like Jimmy Stewart's "Rear Window" photographer--gets obsessed, it's impossible not to feel for her. Keaton's desire for answers leads to the most entertaining sequence in the movie, in which her spouse, Woody Allen, tries to rein her in. "I forbid you to go there! I forbid it! ....Is this what you do when I am forbidding??? " What a car...