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Showing posts with label woody allen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label woody allen. Show all posts

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Midnight in Paris (5/5 Stars)



How to be an intellectual without being annoying about it.

There are two men in this movie that know an awful lot about Paris. One is, Paul, played by Michael Sheen. He’s the type of guy who would interrupt a tour guide, played here by 1st lady Carla Bruni of France, with the words, “If I’m not mistaken, Rodin’s the Thinker was influenced more by his mistress than his wife.” First of all, he does not think he is mistaken and so is already disingenuous. Second, he is a jerk for upstaging the tour guide just in order to show off. I don’t know who influenced Rodin, but if Paul is right than he needlessly embarrassed the tour guide by making such a scene. If he is wrong than he needlessly made a complete fool of himself. All present should be annoyed. Than there is Gil Pender, played by Owen Wilson. He too is an intellectual, but his smarts show not by self-aggrandizing posturing but by a knowing wonder for the town. He keeps on bugging everyone to walk with him in the rain because as he says, “Paris is so beautiful in the rain!” The great thing about Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” is that it understands so well the difference between these two ways of being a know-it-all. There is a difference between an intellectual who goes, “Wow! I can’t believe we’re in the same bar that Hemingway drank at! Hemingway was so cool and he drank so much! We’re going to have an awesome time here drinking and talking about Hemingway!” As opposed to an intellectual who lectures, “If I’m not mistaken, this is where Hemingway drank. His “Farewell to Arms” was okay but I felt in “A Moveable Feast” he was not as sure of himself. Also he drank way too much. That’s why he killed himself. You people should revere me because I am so knowledgeable about where we are.” “Midnight in Paris,” shows a vast familiarity with the 1920’s Lost Generation of Paris. It name drops excessively both from the well-known and not so well known people and places of the time and even includes quite a bit of French and Spanish, none of it in subtitles. But the movie never feels or seems pretentious. This isn’t an Honors English lecture. It is an inclusive party with old friends and one of the most enjoyable movies of the year. 

Gil Pender is a Hollywood hack screenwriter. It is good money but spiritually unfulfilling. He has a dream of moving to Paris and working on his novel because, well, all his literary heroes hung out in Paris and wrote novels. He visits Paris with his materialistic fiancĂ© Inez, played by Rachel McAdams. There they bump into her parents on a business trip. The father refuses to enjoy Paris for political reasons. They also meet the pseudo-intellectual, Paul, who likes to label everything as romantic/surrealists/pre-new wave/etc/etc. One night, Gil chooses to leave the group and walk around Paris for no real reason but to do it. At midnight, a 1920’s car filled to the brim with flappers from the Rolling Twenties pulls up next to him. Before he knows it, Gil finds himself at a party where Cole Porter is playing the piano. A woman named Zelda starts a conversation with him. She is the wife of a guy named Francis Scott Fitzgerald. Zelda asks Gil what he thinks of the party. The bewildered/excited out of his mind/awestruck Gil doesn’t know what to say. “I know,” Zelda says, “this place is boring. We’re going to a better party. Want to come with us?”

What a trip! Not only is Gil meeting all his heroes, but also all his heroes are exactly as he thought they would be. Even better, they like him and are interested in the novel he is working on. Ernest Hemingway won’t read it himself because he is of the firm belief that a writer will either hate another's work or be envious of it and hate it all the more. But Hemingway will show Gil the manuscript to the only editor he trusts, one Gertrude Stein, played by Kathy Bates. As Gil enters the studio of Gertrude Stein she is critiquing one of Picasso’s new paintings with Picasso present and adamantly defending himself. “Gil,” Stein asks, “what do you think of Pablo’s new work?” Imagine that. Being asked to critique Picasso to his face. Having Stein read your novel. Drinking with Hemingway. Gil Pender spends a majority of the movie in a state of ecstasy. Owen Wilson, perfectly cast even at 40 years old, conveys a perfect sense of child-like wonder. There is a great shot with Gil back in the 21st century, wide-awake in his bed and whispering to nobody, “I saw Hemingway. Gertrude Stein is reading my novel. I’m Gil Pender. I’m from Pasadena.” What is really amazing is that this is a Woody Allen movie. Allen has done over forty movies now and there has been such a consistent strain of pessimism and nihilism in his work. That has completely evaporated here and in its stead is gorgeous scenery, great larger-than-life characters, sharp and clever dialogue, and a protagonist who couldn’t possibly be enjoying himself more than he already is.

Standing at about 90 minutes, this movie is also a great example of story efficiency. It takes about two minutes to introduce all the real-life people and their different attitudes towards Paris. It takes another five to introduce the idea of nostalgia and the cynical view that it is an erroneous romanticization of the past to assume that it was a better time than it is now (This theme comes up again ironically when one of the 1920’s artists suggests that the real golden age of Paris was in the 1890s.) The literary figures show up at all the right places in all the right times. I especially liked who Gil explains his perplexing situation as a man who spends the night in the 1920s and wakes up in 2010. He says this to some 1920s surrealists and they see nothing strange about his situation. Salvador Dali, played nicely by Adrien Brody, seems far more interested with his new favorite word “Rhinocerous!” There is also room for a budding romance between Gil and one of the art groupies named Adriana, played by Marion Cotillard. Overall the movie, like all good comedies, is not too long but contains quite a lot. It moves fast, is consistently funny, and very romantic. And don’t forget Paris. It looks as good as ever. 

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Vicky Christina Barcelona 09/20/08

The first thing we see is Vicky, Cristina, and Barcelona. They have just arrived and are taking a cab from the airport to where they are staying for the summer. An unknown narrator describes them in excruciating detail. Vicky is this sort of person, Cristina is that sort of person. I suppose Woody Allen didn't want to bring any subtlety to the introduction of his characters. He lays down the gauntlet right away. This is the way they are! They aren't like anything else! Rules, rules, rules, and no, audience, its not going to take a half hour to figure out what makes these people tick. It will be bluntly put forth in the first 30 seconds. I got the idea that the first voiceover (okay there's these two girls, one's uptight, the others a free spirit, they're, like, in Barcelona!) was the actual pitch Allen made to the producers. Then I remembered that Woody Allen is the producer, and he simply doesn't care what anyone thinks. If he wants to narrate the picture with such predestined rigidity as to the characters actions and feelings, well we're just going to have to go along with it. Have some faith I guess, we've entered his world as soon as we bought the ticket. I guess I asked for it. 
For the first two thirds of the movie, its worth it. Slowly we are seduced by intoxicating performances, Spanish guitar, and quasi-romantic language. There are no stunts, action sequences, or 'look at me, I'm directing' camerawork. In fact, the director seems absent, he leaves all of the work up to the actors. What a good idea. Anchoring the movie are Rebecca Hall as Vicky and Scarlett Johansson as Cristina. They become enamored with a Spanish modern artist played by Javier Bardem, coming fresh off of his Oscar winning turn as a serial killer. The girls hear that Javier ex-wife tried to kill him. Vicky is shocked, Cristina is intrigued. She makes eyes with him across the room and he walks over and very bluntly, asks them to join him for a weekend of wine, sightseeing, and making love. What Bardem says and how he says it makes this seem okay, its quite extraordinary. He convinces Cristina at least. Woody Allen has fun using Spanish to impose upon Javier a sense of innocence. If he was better at English, he wouldn't seem so honest and innocent. His phrases are always blunt and to the point. When speaking of art and love, his simple sayings sound deep. Long story short, he beds them both. He asks Cristina to live with him, not Vicki. Vicki is hurt. They have a conversation in Gaudi Park that sounds something like this: "Why don't you like me?" "You have a fiance" "But you slept with me?" "I don't get your point" "What do you mean you don't get it?" "I solly, no speaky English." There's a little more to it, but you get the idea.
Anyway, Cristina moves in and that's when the movie for a short time becomes something really special. Remember the ex-wife who tried to kill Javier. Well she's played by Penelope Cruz and just tried to kill herself. So, concerned, Javier invites her to stay with him. He doesn't ask Cristina to move out mind you, just decides to live with both of them. Did someone say awkward. The next couple of scenes are pure gold, especially the ones between Cruz and Bardem. Here we have two of the best Spanish actors in the business. Now watch them talk in and out of Spanish and English with great fluency, always mad at each other, and with great intensity. Two very impossible people madly in love with each other. Whew, you'd wish the rest of the movie would be about them and only them.
Unfortunately, at this point, the story reverts back to Vicki and cashes in on a storyline that I have seen in basically every single one of Allen's movies: Marital infidelity. Vicki is in a loveless marraige and wants out. There's even the line 'I love him, but I'm not in love with him.' Please kill me. Not only does this stoyline not add a damn thing, but it actually makes Vicki, who was a great character, into that annoying little archetype of an immature dolt that populates the worst of Allen's movies. I think this movie proves that it takes much more creativity to create characters that love each other than ones that are bored with each other. Maybe that's true in life too. Is it easier to be bored, than to be filled with passion? Which kind of relationship do you think would take more creativity and ingenuity? Which one, Woody Allen, would you rather watch in a movie?

Match Point 01/20/06

Here's the awesome thing about Woody Allen. He really doesn't seem to care what people think. He writes his own movies. He directs his own movies. He usually stars in his own movies. He doesn't care about what people want to see. He's only interested in his vision, his art. This type of viewpoint in Mr. Allen sometimes leads to movies that noone wants to see (Allen has made a few of those). But more importantly this type of viewpoint sometimes leads to true masterpieces. Great works of art that noone but Allen could have crafted. They come out of nowhere and hit us with something we've never seen before. If Allen wasn't so isolated from popular opinion, this movie would have probably never been made. It is truly one of his great films. (I say "one of" because my god has he made a number of great films, and many very good.)
I wouldn't want to give anything away, but I will describe what I felt. My stomach was slowly twisted and turned into a series of knots. At times I felt chills up my spine. Once or twice I inhaled sharply on instinct. I never laughed (This movie is straight drama, no comedy in sight) Now since there are no "action scenes" no "car chases" or any "special effects." How did this happen: Great storytelling by Allen and good performances, especially by Scarlett Johansson. This movie is definitely one of the best this year. I have to remind myself to rent all the rest of his movies.