Diane Keaton and Woody Allen in 'Annie Hall.' Courtesy Everett Collection Share on Facebook Share on X Share to Flipboard Send an Email Show additional share options Share on LinkedIn Share on Pinterest Share on Reddit Share on Tumblr Share on Whats App Print the Article Post a Comment There's a very funny scene in Ron Howard's frothy 1984 interspecies rom-com, Splash, in which Daryl Hannah, playing a mermaid in Manhattan who swaps her tail for legs, skips out to buy suitable land attire. Given that she emerged from the sea naked, she throws together an outfit from the Tom Hanks character's closet. The "fish out of water" turns up on a Bloomingdale's womenswear floor in a men's black suit, white shirt, black leather derbies and what looks like a school tie. The ensemble instantly brings a horrified saleslady scurrying over: "Oh my God, darling, darling, darling! That outfit is to die from! What happened, you saw Annie Hall a hundred times? That look is over." Related Stories Movies Hollywood Pays Tribute to Diane Keaton: "We Lost a True Original" Movies Diane Keaton, Oscar-Winning Star of 'Annie Hall,' Dies at 79 That was seven years after the release of Annie Hall and the imprint on fashion and popular culture of Diane Keaton's iconic looks as the title character remained an instantly identifiable reference. Even more than Marlene Dietrich had done in white tie and tuxedo ensembles in the 1930s, Keaton in Annie Hall kickstarted a wave of genderless dressing with her men's shirts and wide ties, slouchy trousers and oversized jackets, button-up vests and fedoras. What made the layered wardrobe trend resonate - and continue to be seen on stylish women today - was how effortlessly cool it looked on Keaton. Her outfits were eccentric but unfussy, tomboyish but distinctly feminine. They made her character appear confident, even at her most insecure. And while the costumes mostly came from shopping expeditions to Ralph Lauren and other menswear emporiums, they were 100 percent reflective of Keaton's personal style off-camera. The misconception that comedy is easy - and that Keaton was essentially playing a version of herself - caused some quiet ripples of discontent when she beat out competition that included Anne Bancroft, Jane Fonda and Shirley MacLaine in dramatic roles to take home the best actress Oscar in 1977. But Keaton's justly honored performance in Annie Hall endures for reasons that go far beyond the synthesis of her on- and offscreen personas. She essentially reinvented the classic screwball heroine for a more socially evolved age. Annie might have come off to a casual observer as a kooky ditz, but she was clever, witty, talented, a sponge for knowledge and, eventually, an assertive voice for her own independence. She emerged with a wave of actresses in the 1970s and early '80s that defied traditional standards of silver-screen glamour by being utterly natural, among them Karen Allen, Brooke Adams, JoBeth Williams, Jill Clayburgh and Margot Kidder. And yet Keaton was very much an original, never part of any pack. The announcement of her unexpected death at 79, less than a month after Robert Redford's passing, represents another stinging loss to the pantheon of New Hollywood in the decades before the major studios largely stepped away from making movies for grownups. Irrespective of your views on the now-controversial figure of Woody Allen, the films he made with Keaton, both during and after their romantic involvement, remain among her most outstanding screen work - Annie Hall and Manhattan in particular. That's at least partly because while Keaton's characters might have been amused by the brainy verbosity and self-effacing neuroses of Allen's alter egos, she was never intimidated or outmatched by them. She challenged her writer-director and co-star in ways that few other women in his movies ever have. Keaton's innate radiance and verve made her born to play comedy, but she was no less gifted a dramatic actor. The women in Francis Ford Coppola's Godfather trilogy are generally submissive. But Keaton made Kay Adams-Corleone - an initially naïve outsider, favoring love over clarity as she agrees to marry Al Pacino's Michael Corleone - the moral tether to the outside world, beyond the vicious criminal enterprises of the Mafia dynasty. She stands up to Michael and walks away, as few others get to do. The same year Annie Hall was released, Keaton took on a risky role for a rising-star actress in Looking for Mr. Goodbar. In a fearless performance, she played Theresa Dunn, a dedicated schoolteacher whose repressive Catholic upbringing and history of childhood illness become fuel for her defiant sexuality. After feeling used and disrespected in her first experiences with men, Theresa throws herself into an increasingly dark spiral of sleazy pickup bars and hookups with strangers, ultimately with fatal results. With a lesser interpreter, the movie might have been just a sensationalistic shocker, but Keaton b