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| Artwork for Theatrical Release |
Whenever I think of this film, I think of Scarlett, Penelope, Javier, and Barcelona, but I usually forget the beautifully talented and oh so charming Rebecca Hall, whose talents are pathetically underused in the film business. But here she is, and what a pleasure it is to watch her inoculate her character with all the little nuances that make her character come to life, and extend the screen. The insecurities that she hides behind, the doubts that trouble her, and the slight fissure in her persona that is created in a moment of pure reactionary behavior.
The same could be said of Javier Bardem, of whom very few superlatives have been unused (and properly so). Together they expose some of Scarlett's minor flaws as an actress in this film, including the fact that sometimes she seems to be waiting for a queue to react. Otherwise, the acting is spot on and beyond perfection.
The intro is typical Woody Allen fare; a simply black screen with that typical Allen font. Stationary text, simply cutting from one title card to another. It is one of those things, that when witnessed, automatically tells you where you are and what you are doing. At the same time though it sets the pace and theme for the movie by using a quirky, fun, quick paced song that forces the audience to envision Gaudi in all his greatness while also thinking of some of the deeper revelations that Allen normally infuses into his films. And that is ultimately Barcelona.
In stark contrast to a recent critique (ahem Michael Bay), the camera work here is exquisite and properly tailored to the narrative and pace of the film, seamlessly helping with the exposition in a way that doesn't seem forced but naturally.
Roger Ebert recently tweeted, "Woody Allen is a phenomenon. A film a year, sometimes great, usually good, very rarely bad." And that has never been more apt than in his scripts, which rarely fall lower than great.
In Vicky Cristina Barcelona it has found one of its mostly emblematic examples: Full of denseness and layers, and well rounded characters, and wonderfully insightful lines that make this merely ninety-seven minute film feel much longer in a good enjoyable fashion due in large part to the complexities that he intertwines effortlessly throughout, between characters and locations. Between characters and situations. Between situations and locations, and artiness, and truthiness and all those things that make us human.
The script reads very much like a book. Mostly aided by a dense voice-over that in a less adept film would feel excessive and overuse. But here, it embeds the film with a literary feel, creating the substantial aura around the film and the multi layered characters in one of the most efficient ways I've ever seen.
Halfway through the film, in a fit of artful ecstasy, Javier Bardem retorts that "after thousands of years of civilization, [humans] have not learned to love." And that there is the synthesis of this film in a nutshell. Barcelona is about the complexities of intricate adult love. It's about the intermingling nature of love and art. Lust and inspiration. Art and pain. Pain and love. All projected against a true love, infatuation, and affirmation of Catalan culture. The nuances and niches that are far more entrancing than the broader Spanish stereotype.
Buy this film for all it's goodness, it will not disappear, in a good way. It marks the return to ascension for Allen, after a tumultuous decade in the nineties and early naughts. Just skip the 2008 original DVD release if at all possible, the DVD compression bothered me so try to find this film on Blu-ray.
The compression blurred some of the shots to the point of making them unbearable and hard to focus, so skip it, or watch the DVD on a smaller screen (I watched it on my 36").
Pop this film into your player with a plate full of olives, a wedge of Manchego, and a glass of wine, believe me, it would make for a very enchanting evening.
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