Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Woody Allen is a muse of relationships. His most prolific work of the 1970’s were all representations of his perception of the illogicality of human relationships. By peppering them with a pleonastic wit and the persona that he honed in the comedy clubs of New York he creates wonderful insights into the human condition and how it affects our relations.
In his most recent outing, and a notable return to the comedy genre he flexes these muscles once more, but to rather a cynical conclusion. The basic outline is really quite simple, two polar opposite American students, take a summer long break in Barcelona to expand their horizons. Vicky, a graduate student is engaged to a man who is the most logical match for her, while Cristina is sexually forward and uninhibited by the conventions of relationships, and there in lies the rub. Their world changes when they meet and are romanced by a Bohemian artist, and enter into his tempestuous relationship.
The piece leaves the audience with a sense that the happy ending of so many romantic comedies is a fallacy, on a par with fairy tales. The element that left me uneasy was the stark presentation that happiness, or more to the point the lack of it is an inevitable part of ones character, and that regardless of this, will not change. A sense of unfulfilment pervades the last act. The inevitability of disquiet, even when one is made aware of it, rings home long after the end credits roll.
That is not to say that the film is not funny i.e. it is funny. There are several amusing scenes presented through Vicky, brilliantly playing the character that we would imaging Allen would cast himself – if only he was 40 years younger, female and stunningly charismatic. Her dialogue, that neurotic quasi-logical rambling that Allen has made his own over the last quarter century, leaves the audience in no doubt as to the writer.
The film is erotic, with one of the most charged seduction scenes of recent cinema, aided in no small part by Scarlett Johansson’s sheer screen presence. But the outlook that relationships are dysfunctional, even in the most unconventional examples (as in Cristina’s case ) leave the audience with a sense of reflection on their own relationships. And that’s not what I want from a film. I want to leave the theatre feeling like I could take on the world, get the girl take her home and have wild passionate sex to an appropriate soundtrack forever. And while the soundtrack is indeed appropriate for the film, the other emotions that Allen touches on show a cynicism in his twilight years more profound than any others.
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