Woody Allen’s Sleeper is Metropolis on a banana skin. A health-food hypochondriac (Allen) has a routine operation, awakening two centuries later into a totalitarian America. ‘I knew it was too good to be true,’ he wails, ‘I parked right near the hospital!’ The verbal satire on modern fads and mechanistic futures is matched by sparkling sci-fi slapstick, particularly Allen’s clowning (or cloning) as a domestic robot.