Its like a Travel Channel documentary, with annoying narration and a yawn-worthy plot packaged within, 4 April 2009
Woody Allen's work has been around for several decades, creating quite a livid and faithful fanbase that dedicate their lives to watching his yearly films. His films range from romantic to mysterious to even sometimes the realm of science fiction. After a brief slump that was cascading through the 90s into the early part of this decade, Woody Allen re-enters the mainstream with a string of successful and acclaimed movies he filmed overseas. Allen's success derives from his deep flicks about love, affection, sexuality, etc.; and they reached their peak in terms of tone and theme in films like Match Point and Scoop, his "comeback" movies. Riding the success wave with his latest muse Scarlett Johannson, Allen now heads to Barcelona to deliver another tale about the complexities of love.
Let's get one thing straight here: the man is a tad on the overrated side. Surely none of his movies can truly resemble that of your usual romantic comedy dribble, but its nothing spectacular. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm still bitter that Star Wars, one of the greatest films of all-time, was defeated in the Oscars by Annie Hall. But it could be that his sense of humor is extremely dry, his views on love are just absurd and become repetitive, and the films never quite take off. His movies start in shallow waters and remain in shallow waters, with every so often a curveball being flung by for good measure. Vicky Christina Barcelona is no different; it's a film that doesn't quite take off, even with grand performances, a nice soundtrack, and beautiful cinematography.
This film is about two women (The Muse and the unknown Rebecca Hall), one engaged and the other free-spirited, spending the summer in Barcelona. Upon their wanderings, they run into a handsome and charming painter (Javier Bardem) who wants to make love to both of them. A few twists and turns later, Vicky gets married but has doubts about what she wants in life, and Christina moves in with the painter; only to have complications arise once the ex-wife (Penelope Cruz) comes into play. Like previously stated, Allen's movies are never predictable or dwell into stereotypical territory, but the film lacks any sort of dramatic or comedic tension.
To further simplify why this film can never be viewed as good or great in my eyes, Vicky Christina Barcelona presents a total of four main characters in a world full of love trying to figure out what it is. No conflict really arises, no climax is ever actually approached, and we never really care for anyone nor do we hope for someone to end up with someone. We are just witnessing, not really interacting or choosing sides. Plenty of dialogue, but very little of it actually enhances the plot. As a matter of fact, we learn most about our characters whenever the narrator (that comes out of left field most the time) describes the scenario at hand and how everyone is feeling.
Nothing is more hampering to an actor or actress' ability to perform than a narrator in the background telling you how they feel. This is what hampers everyone's performance, we know how they feel not because of their actions or reactions, but because some guy in the background is mentioning their sentiments. It's annoying, and perhaps why critics believe Cruz didn't deserve her Best Supporting Actress Oscar, even though personally I'm glad she finally earned something for her work.
Not bashing everything though. The cinematography is absolutely stunning here, as Barcelona looks its absolute best on the big screen. One would wonder how much better it would look in Blu-Ray; it can pass off as a Travel Channel documentary. The sets within the city are fantastic as well, further emphasizing the beauty of the setting. Adding to the allure of Spain is the fantastic choices of music. The classical guitar and laud-back music are like little finishing touches on the cinematic shots of the towns and restaurants within the city. Allen's direction has definitely improved over the years, as he broadens the horizons and films more than just characters muddled in dialogue. Too bad he couldn't write a better story.
Bottom Line: I love him. I don't love him. I might love her. I don't love her anymore. We should all love each other. More or less, this is almost every single Woody Allen picture, and this one is no exception at all. But unlike Annie Hall, it doesn't even end very properly, by not proving enough closure. If you pressed mute throughout the film, you'll see why some credit should be given: the sets, scenery, and direction. Removing mute reveals relentless and repetitive dialogue and annoying narration; both elements ruining the acting and music of the entire film. This isn't the worst film of the year, but is indeed far from the best. Vicky Christina Barcelona is reserved for those who truly enjoy Allen's work—the good, the bad, and the pretty.
No comments:
Post a Comment