The first thing one should know about Woody Allen on Woody Allen: In Conversation with Stig Bjorkman is that there is no gossip, no scandal, no discussion of anything other than Woody Allen's background and thoughts on his collected cinematic works.

From his early years as a traveling stand-up comic, to Oscar-winning writer, actor and director, Allen has made an indelible impression on American society. Unfortunately, this book reflects only Allen' s rather personal perspective on movie making, a perspective that often seems ignorant of the power of his work.

Beginning with his own screen persona, Allen's influence now spans more than two decades. His films will be less remembered for a specific line or an exhilarating scene than for the characters he created. An entire generation of television viewers has been exposed to the neurotic, fast-talking, therapy-seeking, New York-centric, Jewish male who has problems with women - a character virtually copyrighted by Allen. Whether it is comedian Richard Lewis in Anything But Love of Miles Silverberg in Murphy Brown, the road paved by Allen rolls on. Indeed, what was Northern Exposure originally if not the story of a Woody Allen-type (Rob Morrow's character, Dr. Joel Fleishman) exiled from his native Gotham into the backwoods of Alaska? But still Allen insists: "I'm not interested in living on in the hearts of my countrymen. I'd rather live on in my apartment." In this case, however, humor doesn't help Allen escape his own shadow. The book's text is a bit disconcerting. Bjorkman, a prominent Swedish filmmaker in his own right, presents a straightforward question-and- answer dialogue between him and his subject, with little interpretation and background. The author should have put this additional effort into thework; however, he does ask probing and thoughtful questions.

The answers are quintessential Allen: fast-paced, humorous and extremely well-educated. Who else can quote Sartre, Dostoevski, Tolstoy and Turgenev in one break, mull the works of Bergmann, Fellini and Kurosawa in the next and then makes jokes about them all?

The chapter-by-film format is helpful in that it reveals the steady development of Woody Allen as a person and artist, like some of the characters he's played, he is obsessed with misery and especially his own mortality. "Be happy you're just miserable," he says in all seriousness. Thus, he explains, the completion of one work provides him with a certain personal redemption. He made it through another year and another film intact, without compromise and somehow alive. For Allen, creating a film is an expression of how he sees himself at that moment. His works are designed to be pensive and self-reflective.

This self-centeredness is not necessarily bad, but what is apparent from this book is that Allen has no real appreciation for his special status in American society as one of our leading creative minds. On the one hand, he views his work as largely reflective of himself and his world view. On the other hand, he chastises anyone who confuses his on-screen persona with the off-screen personality. He doesn't seem to believe what the Clown says in his 1992 film, Shadows and Fog: "We are not like other people. We are artists. With great talent comes responsibility.

Allen seems oblivious to his own screen persona living on in other characters throughout the media. In fact, he sees it merely as his way of stepping into the tradition of those before him. "It's a very standard film persona for a comedian," he explains, "someone who is a physical coward, who lusts after woman, who is good-hearted but ineffectual and clumsy and nervous. All standard things that you've seen in different various disguises." He is not at all concerned by the power of the characterization he has created in shaping the common stereotype of urban Jewish males.

Another example of Allen's lack of appreciation of his work revolves around his development of thoughtful female characters. Almost single- handedly, he has created more meaningful roles for women than most of his American peers put together. Who can forget the families in Interiors (1978) or Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)?

He does accept that Annie Hall, which won the Oscar for best picture in 1977, was a deeper and more realistic film, beyond the slapstick comedy of Bananas (1971) and Sleeper (1973), and that it also marked his departure from an exclusively male perspective. As he explains, suddenly, "for some reason, I started to write basically from the woman's point of view all the time... I don't know how it happened or why or when, but something turned around." Numerous actresses owe a lot to this sudden change, including Dianne Wiest, who won an Oscar for her role in Hannah and Her Sisters and again for 1994's Bullets Over Broadway.

Woody Allen on Woody Allen is not really a proper, interpretive review of his work, but rather a long interview filled with the quirks, subtleties, fears and aspirations of one of America's foremost creative people, Allen's sense of personal redemption that comes from completing each film provides a window for his audience to examine their own lives as well. For the audience member, this is a book well worth reading, especially in conjunction with videotapes of the films themselves.