You can make the case that Woody Allen was the greatest filmmaker of the seventies or the eighties if the criteria was consistently great work, but since then it’s been mostly hit or miss. Basically for the last 18 years it’s been feast (Bullets Over Broadway, Sweet and Lowdown) or famine (Everyone Says I Love You, Hollywood Ending). People all proclaimed Woody was back in business when he was once again Oscar nominated for Match Point, and then cringed again when they saw the lazy Scoop. With Vicky Cristina Barcelona, we see Woody continuing to probe his late fascination with European cities, resulting in a dull film which glosses over the same few themes he has addressed numerous times over the last thirty-five years.
The story involves Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) as they take a two month vacation in Barcelona, offered to them by Vicky’s relative Judy (Patricia Clarkson). Vicky is securely engaged to Doug (Chris Messina), who is rich and ready to commit his fortune to Vicky who has been studying Catalin culture–for what, nobody is sure. Cristina is an actress, trying to be an artist, practicing as a photographer–basically trying to find the perfect resource to outlay her yearning for artistic creativity. Cristina’s lack of talent in any of the things she tries makes her bitter, but she is still a hopeless romantic.
The two run into exotic painter Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), and he offers them both the opportunity to spend the weekend with him drinking wine, seeing sights, and making love. Vicky is vocally appalled by the abrupt nature of Juan Antonio, but Cristina is excited by his aggression. Against Vicky’s pleading, Cristina drags them both along to Oviedo where the story finally begins to roll along. Cristina is readily willing to fall under Juan Antonio’s seduction, but Vicky takes a little work, after all she doesn’t want to risk the comfortable relationship she has with Doug, even if it isn’t totally sincere.
The wrench thrown into this machine is Juan Antonio’s ex-wife Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz). Depending on who tells the story, Maria Elena tried to kill Juan Antonio, or he tried to kill her–at this point, it doesn’t really matter. The point is that the two are never able to get over each other, yet never able to function together without a chance of violence. Maria Elena is suspicious of Cristina, and paranoid that Juan Antonio might actually be in love with someone else. Soon though, the triangle of Maria Elena, Juan Antonio, and Cristina becomes a steamy love affair between the three of them. Meanwhile, Vicky debates with herself over the seemingly uneventful and unloving life she seems to be headed for.
I guess the problem I have with this film is that it is a showcase for how lazy Woody Allen has become as a filmmaker lately. He’s making puzzling decisions throughout this film, for instance deciding to have a third-person omniscient narrator detail all the subtleties while the story unfolds. This is a technique that also vexed me in Little Children two years ago, so perhaps I have a bit of a prejudice where narrating stands, but it’s hard not to see that where Woody used to be flawless, he now seems tired and obtuse. How else do you explain this film’s long, dull passages and some of the characters’ weaving in and out of some subplots for what seems like no point?
The saving grace of this film is something that has always been there for Woody no matter what: the intrigue of the characters. Both Vicky and Cristina–even Maria Elena to a point–are Woody Allen female prototypes: one a conservative, intelligent woman who must choose whether or not her life is truly living; and the other being the wild child who is almost suicidal in her ignorant romanticism. Though we’ve seen these women before, it’s always fun to see them tossing around Woody’s extended vocabulary through scenes of their extreme neuroticism. Sure, it’s a male fantasy to see the three of them in all forms of undress with a single man, but Woody movies are all about the everyman getting the beautiful girl.
Scarlett Johansson is now on her third film with Woody, and this is the closest I’ve seen her to being comfortable in his system (I didn’t buy anything she did in the overrated Match Point), but she and Javier Bardem seem to sleepwalk through their roles. Penelop Cruz is the film’s fire, bringing the story’s only energy as the jealous, volatile Maria Elena. An Oscar nomination could be in her future for being such a bright spot in such a droll movie. The best performance though, probably comes from one who didn’t even make it onto the poster, and that’s Rebecca Hall. Hall is the closest thing in the film to the natural Woody-esque actress in the form of Diane Keaton or Mia Farrow, and she deals with her complex issues with such wonderful subtlety that her performance becomes the glue that holds this tale together.
In the end, I find this latest picture just as underwhelming as most of the films Woody has made in the last decade. There was a time when he could do no wrong, but now he has a film which totally jumbles its themes and even pulls off the impossible by not knowing how to use the brilliant Patricia Clarkson. Many say that Woody has gotten a tough wrap, because most of his films that are considered mediocre would be called masterpieces if made by a no-name filmmaker. As a huge Woody fan, I think even he’d agree that there is a whole lot more to making a great film than making a 96-minute video postcard for one of his favorite Spanish cities.
Written and Directed by Woody Allen