Golden Years

My films are misinterpreted all the time. I don't mind that. Everybody's films are misinterpreted.   -- Woody Allen.

Defending Woody Allen is a tiresome pursuit. First of all there's the guy's personal life -- his infamous marital imbroglio in the early '90s, for which many have never forgiven him.  Personally, I loathe John Ford for his fascistic right-wing politics, but it's never interfered with my love of My Darling Clementine and The Searchers; if you can't watch Chinatown or The Pianist due to Roman Polanski's personal history, well, that's your loss.

Secondarily, there's the charge of The Great Decline.  I'm not going to be the dogmatic fool who denies that only a few Allen films from the past decade or so hold up well next to his best work, but I will note this: when you make a movie a year (a feat that no other director in the recent history of American film has managed), your rate of failures is exponentially higher than the norm.  And -- while it annoys me to even have to restate this -- few American filmmakers have produced as many bonafide classics over the course of a 40-plus year career.

Thirdly, there are those who simply don't enjoy Allen's sensibility, period, and that's fair enough (Republican? Meet Democrat).  But now that we've summarized Everything You Have to Deal With When You Approach Talking About a New Woody Allen Movie, let me say this about that: Vicky Cristina Barcelona gave me about as much sheer pleasure as I can remember having had in a movie theater this year.

There's a certain kind of ease one only finds in the late work of a master: you see it in the deceptive simplicity of Matisse's cut-outs, the last short stories of Carver, some late Beethoven sonatas.  Am I calling Vicky a masterpiece?  No, the term carries too much weight and pretension, and these are precisely the qualities blissfully lacking in Allen's latest picture.  But there's a quality of grace you'll recognize here  -- in a shot that's exquisitely (but unobtrusively) lit, framed and blocked, a perfect exchange of dialogue that sounds like a casual throwaway -- that you only find in the work of a filmmaker who's been working at his art for a lifetime.

Ease, simplicity, casual grace: these are not the things one necessarily expects from a story that's about the messy complexities of four messed-up people's intertwined romantic lives, but there it is, along with a certain confidence and playfulness that makes this 73 year-old writer-director's movie feel eternally young. The same old themes are here, of course, but there's new blood in the mix -- and I think that's the key to why the movie sings.  It's not just Barcelona, fresh turf for an aging New Yorker, it's the giddy chemistry that starts to bubble whenever Penelope Cruz, Javier Bardem and Scarlett Johansson share the screen.

While newcomer Rebecca Hall falls prey to a familiar first-time Woody player syndrome (she's basically channeling Allen, though not with the exacting mimicry that made say, Kenneth Branaugh's slavish turn in Celebrity so embarrassing), the other three stars are all willfully, wonderfully true to their own distinctive personalities.  I've been an unabashed Cruz-lover for years, but I've never seen her quite this fascinatingly loose: broodingly lunatic, even happily, masochistically ugly at times, and in Bardem, speaking of ugly-beautiful, she's arguably got the best partner of her career.

Scarlett, whose appeal, let's say, has not had a lot to do with acting, is impressively natural here; she seems to be having a great time.  Maybe that's the ingredient: you see it in Bardem's self-aware half-smile as he blatantly propositions two women simultaneously, in Patricia Clarkson's being so oddly comfortable with her own neurosis.  These are roles that actors can dig into, but with a sense of mischief, without the sturm-und-drang.  The characters are surprising, but accessibly knowable -- the story is rife with tiny moments of recognition/revelation, where you think of course they'd do that! even as you're amusedly taken aback by what they've done.

Meanwhile, though much has been made of the film's erotic material, its actual presentation is a refreshing surprise. Talk of that supposedly "steamy" kiss between Cruz and Johansson was the first one heard of Vicky, when it premiered at Cannes, but in fact, what distinguishes the moment is how genuinely felt in a romantic way it is, as opposed to oooh-la-la sexy.  The film is sexy, kind of deliciously wicked here and there, yet what's on display is a mature sexuality; the sex means something, and thus the camera's artful discretion in dealing with the physicality of the act makes sense.

Working with cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe for the first time has done something marvelous for Allen's palette. Manohla Dargis nailed it in her Times review quote, when she said that the movie is "bathed in light so lusciously golden and honeyed you might be tempted to lick the screen."  The darkness has a velvet lusciousness as well, though, such as in the knowing wink of a process shot that portrays a small plane caught in a storm at night.  As usual, Allen utilizes his trademark long takes, including the occasional character-caught-off-screen dialogue, which is the kind of stuff -- along with a pithy voice-over narration -- dear to Woodman-lovers, and likely to drive haters to distraction.

People ask many things of a romantic comedy.  I like mine to be about something, and this one assuredly is, honing in on a time-honored conflict between two different approaches to romantic love and the consequences of choosing to live by one way or the other.  In an absorbing A.V. Club interview with Woody, the director acknowledges the sadness that dwells behind the light and sunny disposition of this most determinedly European of his movies, and again, that's the kind of welcome pathos and poignancy one often feels in the late work of a Great. 

To me, with its that's how life is small, skewed joys and sorrows, the film is like vintage Chekhov.  But I don't want to oversell it; next to the big, noisy, over-the-top excessive entertainments of this summer, you may find it disappointingly slight.  All I can tell you is that for this rom-commer, Vicky Cristina Barcelona represents a bunch of people I loved hanging out with, and I look forward to visiting them again.

Comments

[matt]

I think we've grown to take Allen's movies for granted because of his ever presentness - like Christmas or Hanukkah - sometimes our holidays are good, sometime not.

Deconstructing Harry represents the best Christmas, for me.

[binnie]

Yeah, but Woody essentially married his DAUGHTER - ew! - and in general the whole marrying-someone-a-whole-generation removed is a tad annoying to me, as you well know. But hey, maybe that's just me!
I haven't enjoyed Woody's films in a while, so I look forward to this one. I sang on the soundtracks to two of his films, "Everyone Says I Love You" and "Bullets Over Broadway" (a personal favorite) and he was in the booth listening to every take, throwing in his suggestion/direction (through an assistant) to the singers, and making it overall some of the best time I've ever spent behind a mic. Yep, you're right. Attention must be paid.

[E.C. Henry]

GREAT review of the film, Billy! And a great defense of Woody Allen at the same time. Never gotten into Woody Allen movies, but thanks to you I feel like I understand him a little better.

IF I ever break in I wantcha on my side, Billy. You are a very passionate deffender of the things you love, and I appreciate that about you.

- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA

[Judith Duncan]

Hey Billy,
I have been a fan of Woody for a long time,though not so enamoured of his recent works.I remember when I was acting, trying to get my head around Chekhov and the fact that 'The Seagull' was a comedy in three acts.I rented 'Life and Death' from the video store and it definetly lightened the burden.So when Vicky Christina Barcelona hits us here downunder,I'll check it out.Javier Bardem just makes the package that little bit tastier.
Cheers,
Judith

[Anna]

I agree with absolutely everything in your extremely wellwritten and interesting words about Woody Allen, who's work I grew up with and always look forward to see. And of course - if one, as a reciever of any piece of artistic work, should let strange things about the artist's personal life affect the experience, the amount of possible books, movies, paintings etc to like would be very, very small... If not zero.
Great that you liked this new Allen so much! I will rush to see it as soon as it opens here in Stockholm, Sweden, in October.
Ciao
Anna

[Elizabeth Kerri Mahon]

I really enjoyed this film and not just because the Woodman wasn't in it. It seemed fresh and original, not a retread like Match Point, or a pointless comedy like Scoop. For the first time I could see Scarlett Johanssen's appeal and it was lovely to see Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem so light and natural.