Woody Allen: Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)

[Chris Knipp]

Woody Allen: Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)

Woody Travel Moviemaking

Review by Chris Knipp

In this new Woody Allen picture set in Spain, two young women (Scarlett Johansson as Cristina; Rebecca Hall as Vicky) summering in the city of the title, succumb to the charms of an impossibly sexy Spanish artist named José Antonio (Javier Bardem). The brilliant Bardem, who was the creepiest killer ever for the Coen brothers last year, turns in an equally polished and much more palatable performance as a seducer. If his character doesn't always convince, that's not Bardem's fault.

Things were already complicated but they get a lot livelier when José Antonio’s fiery ex-wife Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz), herself highly artistic, unexpectedly comes on the scene, recovering from a suicide attempt. It’s like Henry James and Eric Rohmer on hormones with a dab of explicit sex and a spoonful of Almodovar added for flavor. The result is very colorful and lively. Rebecca Hall, a relative newcomer, brings real conviction to the role of Vicky, who has principles. She doesn’t want to accept Jose Antonio’s bold proposal—he walks up at a restaurant and invites the two Americans to weekend with him in another town. Cristina is all for it. She’s out for fun. Scarlett Johansson has more of a slick bottle-blonde look this time to signify that she’s a bit sluttish.

The movie’s generically-created title--Vicky Cristina Barcelona—gives away a certain routineness. It’s no secret that Woody Allen cranks out movies year after year whether inspiration strikes or not and this one lacks the excitement of Match Point. That movie--Allen's best in recent years--had a real edge because somehow its blend of crime and social ambition felt real. This time Woody seems to be pushing figures around on a chess board—though that’s cleverly concealed by the lush settings and colorful actors.

What happened was that Mr. Allen got an offer from Spain, and so he moved on from London to make another movie. Again he uses Johansson as--not too much of a stretch--a self-absorbed young adventuress longing to be some sort of artist. Her pal Vicky (Rebecca Hall) is seemingly much more stable (and the actress does carry conviction and attract some sympathy). Otherwise little defined, Vicky clings tenaciously to the fact that she’s engaged to be married to a solid young New York businessman named Doug (Chris Messina). He’s devoted, and not un-sexy, but designated as uncool and unchic by his drab clothes and the annoying and cloying way he has of calling Vicky "babe" every time he addresses her.

As idle and well-connected as young women in a Henry James novel, Vicky and Cristina come to Barcelona to spend the whole summer with a well-off American couple, Judy and Mark Nash (Patricia Clarkson, Kevin Dunn) in a palatial house.

The girls have barely unpacked when they’re approached at dinner by José Antonio with his brazen proposition to fly that very night to a place called Orviedo for a weekend of sights, food, wine, and love, just the three of them. All three, together? Why not? he says. No no says Vicky. Yes yes, says Cristina. Without too much logic, Vicky goes along anyway--maybe to chaperone? But--in a predictable turnabout--Cristina gets sick and Vicky sleeps with the Spanish guy. Bardem is convincingly suave, but his character is such a cliché it’s all he can do to avoid seeming fake. Some of the scenes seem more like skits than serious drama. The sometimes hazy line between acting and mere bluffing gets more blurred when his José Antonio is talking—because his character is a bluffer anyway.

Later Cristina recovers from her tummy trouble and shacks up with José Antonio, but Vicky’s world has been rocked. José Antonio describes his relationship with Maria Elena like it was a Spanish dish. It just needed a missing ingredient, a dash of something. They never figured out what. When Maria Elena comes back to stay with José Antonio--and Cristina--after a suicide attempt, out of money, paradoxically she turns out to be the sensible one. She is a painter too, we’re suddenly told, and J.A. got all his ideas from her; she regrets that he will "never reach his full potential." She discovers Cristina’s efforts to be an art photographer and turns out to be an expert on that too. She encourages Cristina and sets up a darkroom where Cristina does ridiculously huge black and white prints neither her experience level nor the studio could support: but in this movie, everything is King-Size. And sexed up. The two women even share a lesbian moment inspired by their darkroom intimacy.

The best and most original scenes are those in which José Antonio and Maria Elena start to fight, and J.A. keeps exhorting her to speak in English so Cristina can understand, so they flip dizzyingly back and forth between the two languages. In the Magnani/Lolloobrigida mode she has perfected in such recent films as Sergio Castellitto’s Don’t Move and Almodovar’s Volver, Cruz tears up the screen during her scenes. She’s compulsively watchable, but the action is to tell us only that this relationship won’t work, at least not once Cristina--the missing ingredient--decides, in her self-centered way, that her so-called development requires that she move on.

I think the reason why Match Point and Cassandra’s Dream both succeed better is that Woody Allen’s fascination with glamour and wealth in both makes sense framed by pivotal characters who are arrivistes, as in a sense he too is in posh foreign surroundings. Vicky Cristina Barcelona has no such perspective. And everybody is a little too generic to care about. Vicky seems like a favorite Eric Rohmer type--the young woman who’s not as pretty or as glamorous or aggressive as some of the others in the running but is really nicer and more appropriate for....somebody. Here, there’s no guy we get to see into or care about as if he were a human being. Bardem is skillful at carrying off his Latin-lover artist shtick. But he’s still all facade. Vicky is in Barcelona to do a thesis on Catalan culture. But she can’t even speak basic Spanish. How serious is that? Mr. Allen still seems a Brooklyn Jewish boy drooling at a world he can afford to visit, but can never possess. The voice-over narration, unnecessary and a miscalculation, is in a neutral young man’s voice, not that of anybody in the movie, further distancing us from the already shallow proceedings. None of this is the actors’ fault.

The American naïveté and stereotyping that creep into the treatment of this new European setting seem as much Woody’s as his characters’. This time he projects his fantasies, hangups and guilt trips onto people who, even when played by actors as vibrant as Bardem and Cruz, are a little too hastily sketched in—Woody is even further out of his element here than he was in his three recent films set in England. Vicky Christina Barcelona boasts nice sets and pretty people that keep you watching, but then two hours later it’s like the cliché about Chinese food--wait a minute--did I watch a Woody Allen movie? Match Point and even Cassandra’s Dream were much better, not to mention Allen in his prime.

[oscar jubis]

Thoughts on Woody Allen's Authorship on the Occasion of the Release of Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Woody Allen has been recognized as the sole author of the films he writes and directs practically since he became a filmmaker 40 years ago. Allen was originally a writer of material for stand-up comedians and for tv programs. He started a career as a stand-up comic in the early 60s, published a few short stories, and wrote his first play and his first movie script in the mid-60s. He was motivated to become a film director by the chaotic shoot of Casino Royale and his own cinephilia. Most Allen's films released between 1969 (Take the Money and Run) and 1986 (Hanna and her Sisters) are to a large degree vehicles for a rather consistent writer/stand-up persona: a neurotic, raised-in-Brooklyn-now-living-in-the-Upper-East-side, clumsy, educated, witty, narcissistic but insecure New York Jew. The aspect that renders this persona as most endearing is perhaps Allen's lack of actorly presence; a badge of authenticity in that the viewer sensed that Allen was, to a significant extent, playing himself. The aspect that renders Woody Allen most worthy of audience appreciation is his masterful ability to write funny gags and make us laugh. In the nostalgic and autobiographical Radio Days, his imprint was in the voice-over. In subsequent films, he's either reduced the scope of the role he gave himself, or hired an actor to project a variation of his persona. But where does Allen's authorship as a film director reside?

Woody Allen was a member of the large cinephile community in New York City that became exposed to films in foreign-languages in the 1950s (when distribution of films from abroad increased significantly); a community that grew even larger and more movie-mad during the 1960s. Allen became enamored of the films by Bergman, Fellini and other European directors. In 2001, during an interview for the New York Times, he said: "my affection for foreign movies seems to be much deeper. If I were, for example, to list my 10 or even 15 favorite movies -- and I don't say best movies, because these lists are always completely subjective -- aside from 'Citizen Kane,' all of the films would be foreign". In channeling or "paying homage" to the European films Allen fell in love with as a young man, he demonstrates the same artistic immaturity of a would-be author attempting to write like Faulkner or Hemingway. Allen's films are significantly lesser than the films he tries to emulate: 8 1/2 (Stardust Memories), Wild Strawberries (Another Woman), Juliet of the Spirits (Alice), La Ronde (Manhattan), Big Deal on Madonna Street (Small Time Crooks), Smiles of a Summer Night (Midsummer's Sex Comedy), La Strada (Sweet and Lowdown), 70s Bergman (Interiors), among others. Allen has never been a great film director but he remains a significantly accomplished one whose filmography is consistently enjoyable and interesting. Allen seems to recognize his limitations when he proclaims he is "primarily a writer". He also seems to have, like Michael Curtiz and Frank Capra, a special knack for assembling a great cast and crew and get their best effort.

Removed from New York, Allen continues to focus on well-off, bourgeois characters but seldom figures among the cast and doesn't appear so eager to tickle our funny bone. His latest film, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, seems devoid of any trace of the Woody persona. He could have easily performed the voice-over narration but he opted to have someone else do it. It's a film of remarkable beauty: gorgeous actors in picturesque Spanish locations lensed by ace cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe. Vicky Cristina Barcelona includes an unforgettable performance by Penelope Cruz, cast here against type and largely improvising her own lines. Allen seems to have stopped borrowing from the European masters. If anything, the swift pace and graceful rhythm reminds me of the best Hollywood comedies of the 1930s. Allen, the auteur, can be found in the script. It's the work of a man who's acquired wisdom through a lifetime worth of romantic adventure. The film proposes that, whether you, like Vicky, want a relationship characterized by commitment and security or, like Cristina, pine for romance full of passion and excitement, you are bound to get hurt and disappointed. And yet, you'll be much better off than the cautious ones who sit by the sidelines.

[Chris Knipp]

Thoughts on your "Thoughts"

You have a good point, which is that Woody Allen really isn't very sure who he is, at least as a filmmaker (and quite possibly as a person). If you look at his work overall that certainly is true, if not exactly a huge revelation. His infatuation with classic foreign filmmakers seems to have always drawn Woody in the wrong direction, away from his real native comic talent and into multiple adopted personalities not his own.

Off and on he has in fact still included himself as a character even up to recent films. People have applauded his dropping out insofar as his in-person enactment of old-man fantasies about being with a gorgeous young babe is concerned. They're glad when that is dropped, or becomes less overt.

I don't think you mean "lack of actorly presence." Rather it was the adoption of a cartoon exaggeration of his own self as an "actorly presence." There always was one. It wasn't "really him."

You are apparently saying that in earlier decades at some point Allen was channeling Bergman, Fellini, and other European (and Scandanavian) classic filmmakers in a way that shows "artistic immaturity" and yet somehow is "accomplished" but not "great," but now he has recently dropped those models and instead is doing work that evokes instead "the best Hollywood comedies of the 1930s." And he remains present as a writer but shows "wisdom" and maturity and, you imply, is producing movies that are very entertaining as well as of "remarkable beauty."

Well, that's all very well, but I don't think your summary does much justice to his early work, his best psychological and social studies and his earlier comedies, which some might think his best work of all. It implies progress, as if he's come out with his best work of all. He was never great but he was accomplished and now he's wise and mature. Is this accurate?

"It's the work of a man who's acquired wisdom through a lifetime worth of romantic adventure." You could just as well say that he's managed to remain an adolescent, and the real wisdom is in his earlier films, not this glossy, second-hand stuff about social worlds and cultures this Brookklyn Jewish boy doesn't really understand but likes to pretend he's close to, by making films about them.

Furthermore most critics would probably agree that overall Woody's later work is quite flat, with some more successful than others, such as Match Point. This time he has landed two outstanding (and safe because high profile in America) foreign actors, Bardem and Cruz, and doing something comepletely different: shooting scenes, largely imporvised you say, in another language. Maybe that's a plus, though it simply means that Woody has less to do directly with the scenes. Since people have gotten so bored with his later work, which is cranked out doggedly year after year whether he has any inspiration or not (maybe that's part of the Hollysood comedies feel--the studios cranked them out too--but they had a bigger, better team to do it), he has breathed some new life into them, or tried to, by moving out of New York and making them abroad.

P.s. He still writes witty satirical short stories, and they're published form time to time. They've never stopped and aren't just a figment of his early development.

[oscar jubis]

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Chris Knipp
It wasn't "really him."
Not "really him" of course, but it's remarkable the degree of overlap between the "real Woody" in Wild Man Blues, for instance, and the "Woody persona" one finds in most of his film roles. Of course he exaggerates some of his traits for comedic purposes, just like stand-up comics tend to do when performing a routine.


now he has recently dropped those models and instead is doing work that evokes instead "the best Hollywood comedies of the 1930s." And he remains present as a writer but shows "wisdom" and maturity and, you imply, is producing movies that are very entertaining as well as of "remarkable beauty."
Yes, he seems to have stopped borrowing and emulating Fellini, Bergman, etc. The comments you put under quotations refer exclusively to Vicky Cristina Barcelona. In no way do I mean to apply these terms to any other of his recent films. There's something very specific in it which reminded me of classical 30s Hollywood comedies and that would be the film's "swift pace and graceful rhythm". I don't mean to draw stronger correspondences between the new film and the older genre.

I don't think your summary does much justice to his early work, his best psychological and social studies and his earlier comedies, which some might think his best work of all.
When I write about Allen's endearing and authentic film persona and his masterful ability to make us laugh, I'm thinking of those early comedies and several films he released throughout the 1980s. If there's one film regarded almost unanymously as a career highlight, that'd be Annie Hall and, perhaps, Manhattan. I like both but find the first 30 to 40 minutes of Love and Death his funniest and find Broadway Danny Rose and Manhattan Murder Mystery as good as anything he's done (I'm repeating myself here, I've said this before). I don't know that there's much in Woody Allen's films that amounts to a social study.

"It's the work of a man who's acquired wisdom through a lifetime worth of romantic adventure." You could just as well say that he's managed to remain an adolescent, and the real wisdom is in his earlier films, not this glossy, second-hand stuff about social worlds and cultures this Brookklyn Jewish boy doesn't really understand but likes to pretend he's close to, by making films about them.
I'm glad you expressed your take on the film with confidence. I was thinking after watching the film and reading your review that Vicky Cristina Barcelona is the 2008 film on which we diverge the most. I think this is a film wise about the art of living, fairly insightful about romantic pursuits, curious and empathic towards its characters, and filled to the rim with beauty.

Furthermore most critics would probably agree that overall Woody's later work is quite flat, with some more successful than others, such as Match Point.
I buy it. I don't read enough contemporary film criticism to have an opinion about what "most critics" think. But I trust that what you say is right. If Jonathan Rosenbaum is at all representative of most critics then the answer is you're right. I personally wasn't nearly as impressed as most critics, I guess, by Match Point and thought even less of Scoop.

Maybe that's a plus, though it simply means that Woody has less to do directly with the scenes.
Right. It means that he didn't write the specific dialogue when they speak Spanish but otherwise has as much to do with these scenes as he does with the rest. And that includes the scenario.

He still writes witty satirical short stories, and they're published form time to time. They've never stopped and aren't just a figment of his early development.
Good. Saying that he published some short stories in the early 60s doesn't imply he never did that again in subsequent years.

[Chris Knipp]

Well, I didn't know that we differed so markedly on the latest Woody Allen till this latest post of yours. I understood that you find it beautiful and wise. There seemed to be some gaps in your presentation of Woody's career. You said, in listing earlier favorites of yours, "(I'm repeating myself here, I've said this before)." Maybe so, but you didn't say it in this thread, and that was what I was judging. I thought you needed to mention those titles since you were running through his whole career. Now you've made up for the omission in your implied survey. I personally like his even earlier absurdist comedies, Bananas and Sleeper, probably the best, but it seems to me he's done well in some of his social/psychological "relationship" studies such as September and Hannah and Her Sisters. Love and Death I agree is funny in its earlier part. As for what I mean by "social study" is films like Hannah and Her Sisters where he's dealing with a social milieu fairly specifically, and doing a pretty good job. His more recent dealings with high flown overseas milieus are not as convincing, and not as personally felt.

I understand that the classic Hollywood flavor and the "wisdom" are things you only find in Vicky Cristina. But then what do you have to say about his other recent movies, the ones set in England? If Allen gives the effect of having "acquired wisdom," shouldn't that show in all his recent stuff? How come it's just sprung out now?


Bear in mind that when I say, "You could just as well say that he's managed to remain an adolescent, and the real wisdom is in his earlier films, not this glossy, second-hand stuff..." I'm not saying it outright, only saying you could argue that way (and I think some do). I don't see the wisdom, and though the movie's good-looking, I don't see it as drenched in beauty the way, say, The Fall is. Nor do I see that it is Allen dealing with stuff he knows first hand from his own experience, which is where wisdom best shows itself.

We agree (though you insist you don't really know what the critics think and are just taking my word for it) that Allen's latest films are flat. I don't know about Rosenbaum, but I thought and said that Match Point was engaging and exciting, one of the year's best American films. Many have written that it was Woody's best in a long time. I think we're affected differently by the content of the two different films, me by the arriviste drawn into crime in the 2005 one, and you by the Spanish setting, the lovely ladies, and the seductive Spanish artist in the 2008 one. I thought Scoop definitely not up to Match Point, but I found Colin Farrell made a strong impression in Cassandra's Dream. They all tend to feel like glossy, forgettable entertainments, but Match Point made my best list for the year.

"Saying that he published some short stories in the early 60s doesn't imply he never did that again in subsequent years." Actually you did seem to imply that story-writing was a stage in Woody's development; the way you described his later emphasis on filmmaking could have made clear that he does continue to do other creative things, notably the stories, and also the jazz playing.

[mouton]

VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA
Written and Directed by Woody Allen
Starring Javier Bardem, Scarlett Johansson, Rebecca Hall, Patricia Clarkson and Penelope Cruz

Marie Elena: Only unfulfilled love can be romantic.

What could be more romantic than a summer vacationing is Barcelona? You’re surrounded by art, history and breathtaking scenery. You meet people you’ve probably never met before and will most likely never see again. You can immerse yourself in an entirely different culture, learning something new about life and yourself with every passing day. Or, you can leave your every woe from your difficult life behind you and let it all fall away into the ocean. In Woody Allen’s latest, VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA, Vicky and Cristina (Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson) do just that. Vicky is going to learn while Cristina follows in hope of escape and before the summer is out both will learn that that which is inherently romantic is also inescapably complicated.

Vicky and Cristina are the kinds of friends that would likely not become friends if they met at this present moment but are good friends regardless because of a long and cherished history. Vicky is practical to a fault. Everything she does has purpose and function, including her fiancé, Doug (Chris Messina, who played the same “I am everything that is wrong with America today” character at the end of “Six Feet Under”). Cristina cannot stomach settling into herself, as she can’t stand that self, so she recklessly pursues paths of abandon in hopes of finding solace. They are opposite in everything they do, right down to their hair colors, but they find one common interest while abroad, Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), a painter with a dramatic reputation. Juan Antonio is a player but he isn’t playing. He’s unassumingly smooth and sexy in shirts and pants that are dressed down by playful sneakers. He is a passionate man and his provocative proposal to have both ladies join him for a weekend of food, music and lovemaking brings out the American prude in both Vicky and Cristina.

Still, the vacation does everybody good, including Allen himself. Stepping out of New York and into London for his (brief) return to form, MATCH POINT, rejuvenated a vision that was once great but had recently become monotonously unwieldy. Going to the Barcelona country sides for his 40th feature has a similar effect, in that his vision is refreshingly alive. Still, it is different than the London Allen of late. In Barcelona, it feels as if Allen were on his own vacation. This is Woody in sandals, a loose fitting tee and khakis. Sure, he’s still neurotically smothered in sun block but his grip on the film is relaxed, more organic. In fact, the film’s underlying criticism of American materialism and structure suggest that Allen is happy to be away for a while. Besides, if he weren’t overseas, he might not have had the chance to work with Penelope Cruz. Cruz plays Marie Elena, Juan Antonio’s ex-wife who tried to kill him before ultimately leaving him. Her insanity and is eluded to so often before she actually graces the screen that by the time she does, one shakes with anticipation for her arrival. Cruz’s presence is overwhelming, a tumultuous force that commands attention and can either destroy or nurture from one moment to the next. She elevates the overall quality of the film to exciting heights and it was already pretty great before she got there.

After years of troubled relationships both on and off screen, Allen is still going back for more despite it all. Having been around a few blocks though has given the man a fair amount of insight. He may not know what makes the perfect recipe but he’s still in the kitchen cooking because he knows that when you do get all the ingredients just right, you’re in for one hell of a good meal. He throws all of his characters into the fire knowing full well they will all get burned but that they will also all be better people for it. For all its complications, love or sex or however you choose to define your interaction with another human being (or with two or three for that matter) will ultimately transform you. The same can be said for VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA, a flame well worth getting close to.

For more on Woody Allen, check out my recent director profile, entitled HANNAH ANNIE MANHATTAN @ http://blacksheepreviews.blogspot.com/2008/08/director-series-woody-allen.html

[Chris Knipp]

Some serious film writers have found Woody extremely pessimistic. I have no opinion about that. I wish some more people would join the discussion.