Here’s how lame Woody Allen’s latest sucker magnet is: Halfway through, your mind starts wandering way off to Detailville. Didn’t San Francisco outlaw plastic bags in groceries? Would a cashier and her grease-monkey paramour really be drinking Moet? And out of the proper flute rather than a titty glass? But I guess it could have been worse. Cate Blanchett could have been offering to sleep with someone for a Cosmo and a cupcake.