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The highly acclaimed Woody Allen film The Purple Rose of Cairo opens with a drab, sweetly innocent young woman, Cecilia, sitting expectantly in a dark movie theater. She is entranced with the screen images of a dashing young adventurer, the film character Tom Baxter, a larger than life, handsome explorer. He portrays all the charm, manners, and caring tenderness that would appeal to any woman, particularly to one abused by her husband. Cecilia herself is trapped in a bleak, loveless marriage to a brutish man who offers little hope of any romance, passion, or excitement. Instead, she avidly awaits the weekly Saturday film at the local movie theater to introduce some hope and illusion into the pervasive dreariness of her life.
As Cecilia watches, Tom suddenly escapes from his celluloid existence, walking off the screen and up to her, proclaiming that he, too, is bored and finds her more interesting and exciting than his movie heroine. Disappointed in his own status in a supporting role in a second-rate film, he has abandoned his reel life for what he hopes to be a real one. Cecilia is delighted with his advances and adoringly proclaims her belief in him despite, as she puts it, the minor role that he has in the film. Tom, on the other hand, begins to reveal his own illusions and dreams through which he tries to escape from the celluloid dreariness of his life. He insists that he is the star of the movie melodrama, thereby implying that her admiration and adoration are rightfully deserved.
The real movie actor Gil soon arrives in search of his screen persona. He needs to restore and reintegrate the split-off impulsive and childlike part of himself, which has abandoned the adult, work-oriented role in favor of the play role of Tom. Gil, the screen actor, is somewhat more humble than the celluloid character that he plays on the screen although, like Tom, he, too, is