vicky cristina barcelona
Taking a rendezvous in ‘Barcelona’
by Brittany Kemp/A&E editor
With the onslaught of a cold and wet autumn, it may seem too late to enjoy a summer holiday. Therein lies the joy of cinema: to experience things vicariously.
Woody Allen’s latest, “Vicky Cristina Barcelona,” is exactly that kind of film, so aesthetically rich that you can feel the Spanish sun on your skin.
Although it came out in August, “Barcelona” recently had a brief run at the West Erie Plaza. I was fortunate enough to see it in an empty theater (save for one elderly couple that gave it a standing ovation).
What followed was one of Allen’s best films in years. It has a similar, but less threatening, intensity as one of his arguably other great works in the past decade, “Match Point.”
It also employs Scarlett Johansson, who is the next in the line of Allen-muses, previously occupied by the likes of Diane Keaton and Mia Farrow.
Johansson portrays the character of Cristina, a graduate student who has just completed a 12-minute film (about?”love,” but this is coming from a girl who claims she is seeking the “counter-intuitive” kind) and is disappointed by the results.
She is seeking direction and meaning in her life, on that provincial route to “finding herself.” Her character, as some of the others, isn’t fairly complex, but Johansson is always a joy to watch on the big screen. She slides into her role without much effort.
Her best friend, Vicky (played by Chelsea Clinton look-a-like Rebecca Hall) is her living and breathing antithesis. She’s practical, determined, analytical and engaged to the drab, golf enthusiast Doug (Chris Messina). She has no use for romance, or so we’re led to believe. The tears that well up in her eyes when hearing the music of the Spanish guitar suggest
otherwise.
The two head to Barcelona for the summer-what hot-blooded young person could refuse?-with the intent to stay with Vicky’s relative Judy (played by the underrated Patricia Clarkson) and her also drab husband, Mark (Kevin Dunn). Sort of a ghost of Christmas future, if you catch my drift.
Everything seems to be like a big touristy adventure, until Javier Bardem shows up as (ahem) Juan Antonio, a painter who has just left a tempestuous marriage. A far cry from the cold-blooded killer of “No Country for Old Men” and without the unflattering hair.
He catches the eye of Cristina, who all but falls into his lap. Vicky, on the other hand, is another story.
Bardem prevents Antonio from becoming another Casanova stereotype by injecting a unique sensibility and raw emotion into him. He seduces both of the girls, making Cristina his steady lover and throwing turmoil into Vicky’s sensible world.
Then, of course, Maria Elena-his combustible and compelling ex-wife-storms back into the picture. Just when you fear that the movie is about to enter “boring” territory, Penelope Cruz grabs you by the throat with her performance and does not let go.
If this woman is not nominated for at least one award, it would be a travesty. She has you guessing at her every next move and the chemistry she stirs with Barden (and even Johansson at points) is palpable.
The three combined characters eventually immerse themselves in a highly European, highly Bohemian ménage a trois situation, while Vicky (who, compared to the mesmerizing havoc Cruz and Co. conjure, starts to feel unnecessary) questions the direction of her life and enlists Clarkson for help.
All the while, Christopher Evan Welch provides a witty narration, bringing to mind a documentary of human affairs more than a romantic dramedy.
“Vicky Cristina Barcelona” is a good change of pace for Allen. In some of his past movies (mainly some of those forgettable ’90s duds) he liked to put himself in the movie playing, well, himself, or an equally neurotic stand-in (i.e.: Jason Biggs, etc).
And although there are no outright Woody Allen clones in “Barcelona,” the movie unmistakably reads of him (especially one line the narrator utters: “Juan Antonio, like certain creative men, needed a woman to live with him.” Hmm.) Even in Johansson’s Cristina and especially with Vicky. Allen throws in a classic twist ending, which really solves nothing. But isn’t that how life is sometimes?
Plot, however, might come secondary here (but the fact there is one-and a fine one at that-is a bonus). The scenery is lush and gorgeous; the same for the actors. So if Edinboro runs the risk of getting too gray and soggy for your liking and a jet to Europe is no option, “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” may be your next best bet.
-
This was published on October 21, 2008.
by Brittany Kemp/A&E editor
With the onslaught of a cold and wet autumn, it may seem too late to enjoy a summer holiday. Therein lies the joy of cinema: to experience things vicariously.
Woody Allen’s latest, “Vicky Cristina Barcelona,” is exactly that kind of film, so aesthetically rich that you can feel the Spanish sun on your skin.
Although it came out in August, “Barcelona” recently had a brief run at the West Erie Plaza. I was fortunate enough to see it in an empty theater (save for one elderly couple that gave it a standing ovation).
What followed was one of Allen’s best films in years. It has a similar, but less threatening, intensity as one of his arguably other great works in the past decade, “Match Point.”
It also employs Scarlett Johansson, who is the next in the line of Allen-muses, previously occupied by the likes of Diane Keaton and Mia Farrow.
Johansson portrays the character of Cristina, a graduate student who has just completed a 12-minute film (about?”love,” but this is coming from a girl who claims she is seeking the “counter-intuitive” kind) and is disappointed by the results.
She is seeking direction and meaning in her life, on that provincial route to “finding herself.” Her character, as some of the others, isn’t fairly complex, but Johansson is always a joy to watch on the big screen. She slides into her role without much effort.
Her best friend, Vicky (played by Chelsea Clinton look-a-like Rebecca Hall) is her living and breathing antithesis. She’s practical, determined, analytical and engaged to the drab, golf enthusiast Doug (Chris Messina). She has no use for romance, or so we’re led to believe. The tears that well up in her eyes when hearing the music of the Spanish guitar suggest
otherwise.
The two head to Barcelona for the summer-what hot-blooded young person could refuse?-with the intent to stay with Vicky’s relative Judy (played by the underrated Patricia Clarkson) and her also drab husband, Mark (Kevin Dunn). Sort of a ghost of Christmas future, if you catch my drift.
Everything seems to be like a big touristy adventure, until Javier Bardem shows up as (ahem) Juan Antonio, a painter who has just left a tempestuous marriage. A far cry from the cold-blooded killer of “No Country for Old Men” and without the unflattering hair.
He catches the eye of Cristina, who all but falls into his lap. Vicky, on the other hand, is another story.
Bardem prevents Antonio from becoming another Casanova stereotype by injecting a unique sensibility and raw emotion into him. He seduces both of the girls, making Cristina his steady lover and throwing turmoil into Vicky’s sensible world.
Then, of course, Maria Elena-his combustible and compelling ex-wife-storms back into the picture. Just when you fear that the movie is about to enter “boring” territory, Penelope Cruz grabs you by the throat with her performance and does not let go.
If this woman is not nominated for at least one award, it would be a travesty. She has you guessing at her every next move and the chemistry she stirs with Barden (and even Johansson at points) is palpable.
The three combined characters eventually immerse themselves in a highly European, highly Bohemian ménage a trois situation, while Vicky (who, compared to the mesmerizing havoc Cruz and Co. conjure, starts to feel unnecessary) questions the direction of her life and enlists Clarkson for help.
All the while, Christopher Evan Welch provides a witty narration, bringing to mind a documentary of human affairs more than a romantic dramedy.
“Vicky Cristina Barcelona” is a good change of pace for Allen. In some of his past movies (mainly some of those forgettable ’90s duds) he liked to put himself in the movie playing, well, himself, or an equally neurotic stand-in (i.e.: Jason Biggs, etc).
And although there are no outright Woody Allen clones in “Barcelona,” the movie unmistakably reads of him (especially one line the narrator utters: “Juan Antonio, like certain creative men, needed a woman to live with him.” Hmm.) Even in Johansson’s Cristina and especially with Vicky. Allen throws in a classic twist ending, which really solves nothing. But isn’t that how life is sometimes?
Plot, however, might come secondary here (but the fact there is one-and a fine one at that-is a bonus). The scenery is lush and gorgeous; the same for the actors. So if Edinboro runs the risk of getting too gray and soggy for your liking and a jet to Europe is no option, “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” may be your next best bet.
-
This was published on October 21, 2008.
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