Is Woody Allen wimping out? His detractors figure it this way: Allen's personal hell with Mia Farrow, a harsh press and a dwindling cult have driven the auteur of comic angst to dull the edge of his boldest work and slide into escapism. Among the damning evidence: last year's frivolous "Manbattan Murder Mystery" and ABC's upcoming "Don't Drink the Water" -- a retread of his joke-a-minute 1966 Broadway play about a Jewish caterer -- which represents, yikes, his first movie for television. And now