As in ”Crimes and Misdemeanors,” Woody Allen plays a filmmaker of cripplingly good taste. As in ”Annie Hall,” our neurotic freak of a hero wrangles with an ex who’s been seduced by the phonies and philistines of L.A. and suffers a psychosomatic fit when he tries to sell out. (In Hollywood Ending, the old flame is Tea Leoni and the attack is hysterical blindness.) As in ”Deconstructing Harry,” Allen indulges in career-spanning self-parody — but here it doesn’t look intentional. Though the lighting is exquisite, there is nothing new under this sun.