ImageSuffering a little from the post-holiday blues, it should come as no surprise that I entered the cinema for a trip straight back to Barcelona.
And what a trip! With Woody Allen behind the wheel and Vicky, Christina along with an affable narrator as my tour guides, there were romantic, quirky, neurotically fun times to be had.
Since wrenching himself away from Manhattan and off the center stage (mostly), Allen has enjoyed a certain amount of success in the UK; a success he looks keen to continue on the continent. However after disappointing with Cassandra's Dream, Allen has re-teamed with Scarlett Johansson, and, for good or ill, seems to have regained his mojo.
I must admit I find Allen's metamorphosis into Scarlett Johansson (or is that the other way around?) more than a little disturbing. There's one scene in particular - the plane ride back from Oviedo - when Johansson delivers a fast talking, neurotic, narcissistic diatribe in such classic Allen style that one feels he may just as well have CGI'd his head to deliver the lines himself. Whatever homage or caricature Johansson is attempting definitely grates at times.
Fortunately, the rest of the cast is simply superb. Rebecca Hall was a real find! I vaguely recognised her from The Prestige, but here she is unforgettable, pitch perfect as the straight talking masters student whose vulnerable romanticism is awakened through an encounter with the dreamy Juan Antonio. Javier Bardem just oozes charisma and more than a little sex in his role as essentially the femme fatale, driving all the women to distraction and destruction!
And speaking of destruction, it is undoubtedly Penélope Cruz who steals the show. Her Maria Elena is a carefully crafted frenzy of flowing dark locks and fiery eyes. Her passion, her madness are given real depth, with Cruz not limiting her character to a mere crazed cypher.
Unfortunately Barcelona didn't feature quite as much as the title would have us believe. Allen's coverage of the beautiful city was pretty mainstream touristy, though Gaudí's buildings still had my architect Mum sighing beside me. But perhaps Allen took more figurative cues from the unique styles of Barcelona natives Gaudí and Miró, infusing the film with the brilliant, the contrived and the downright bizarre.
My favourite parts of the film were the little scenes, those in between moments that encapsulate and crystallise characters so perfectly. The one that springs to mind occurs late in the film when Vicky sits disconsolately at a vanity, framed by the mirror, her new husband in the background talking on the phone. As she broods, Doug's inane conversation fills the room: he's trying to get the person on the other line to stand still so he can hear him. Vicky says nothing, and scene lasts less than 30 seconds, but it speaks volumes about her the weight of her future life and her potential chance to escape.
If 'life is the ultimate work of art' then Allen's sojourn in Barcelona resulted in a few fascinating portraits.
And what a trip! With Woody Allen behind the wheel and Vicky, Christina along with an affable narrator as my tour guides, there were romantic, quirky, neurotically fun times to be had.
Since wrenching himself away from Manhattan and off the center stage (mostly), Allen has enjoyed a certain amount of success in the UK; a success he looks keen to continue on the continent. However after disappointing with Cassandra's Dream, Allen has re-teamed with Scarlett Johansson, and, for good or ill, seems to have regained his mojo.
I must admit I find Allen's metamorphosis into Scarlett Johansson (or is that the other way around?) more than a little disturbing. There's one scene in particular - the plane ride back from Oviedo - when Johansson delivers a fast talking, neurotic, narcissistic diatribe in such classic Allen style that one feels he may just as well have CGI'd his head to deliver the lines himself. Whatever homage or caricature Johansson is attempting definitely grates at times.
Fortunately, the rest of the cast is simply superb. Rebecca Hall was a real find! I vaguely recognised her from The Prestige, but here she is unforgettable, pitch perfect as the straight talking masters student whose vulnerable romanticism is awakened through an encounter with the dreamy Juan Antonio. Javier Bardem just oozes charisma and more than a little sex in his role as essentially the femme fatale, driving all the women to distraction and destruction!
And speaking of destruction, it is undoubtedly Penélope Cruz who steals the show. Her Maria Elena is a carefully crafted frenzy of flowing dark locks and fiery eyes. Her passion, her madness are given real depth, with Cruz not limiting her character to a mere crazed cypher.
Unfortunately Barcelona didn't feature quite as much as the title would have us believe. Allen's coverage of the beautiful city was pretty mainstream touristy, though Gaudí's buildings still had my architect Mum sighing beside me. But perhaps Allen took more figurative cues from the unique styles of Barcelona natives Gaudí and Miró, infusing the film with the brilliant, the contrived and the downright bizarre.
My favourite parts of the film were the little scenes, those in between moments that encapsulate and crystallise characters so perfectly. The one that springs to mind occurs late in the film when Vicky sits disconsolately at a vanity, framed by the mirror, her new husband in the background talking on the phone. As she broods, Doug's inane conversation fills the room: he's trying to get the person on the other line to stand still so he can hear him. Vicky says nothing, and scene lasts less than 30 seconds, but it speaks volumes about her the weight of her future life and her potential chance to escape.
If 'life is the ultimate work of art' then Allen's sojourn in Barcelona resulted in a few fascinating portraits.
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