Vicky Cristina Barcelona: ménage à trois in español
by M.G. Wood
It's hard to say which is more beautiful: the sun-bleached architecture of Barcelona, the color-saturated landscapes, or the foursome of actors, Javier Bardem, Scarlett Johansson, Rebecca Hall, and Penelope Cruz. Or it could be the precise, exacting, biting dialogue as written by Woody Allen. Whatever the beauty-source, it is in great abundance in VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA, Woody Allen's passionate new film.
American friends Vicky and Cristina (Hall and Johansson) are on holiday in Spain for the Summer. One friend, Vicky, is tall, dark and gorgeous, and intellectual; cerebral; stuffy; and engaged to be married, to an equally stiff WASP back home in New York. Cristina is blond, buxom, and ballsy.
One night, at the urging of their host, Vicky and Cristina visit an art gallery, peruse the expressionist art works throughout the gallery, drink wine and converse in a perfectly idyllic world where everyone is deep, mysterious, and well-spoken. When Cristina spots the artist in residence across the crowded room, she is told that the artist, Juan Antonio (Bardem), had just evacuated a turbulent marriage in which he was stabbed by his wife with a butcher knife.
Soon, while at dinner with Vicky, Cristina again spots the artist. This time across a crowded restaurant, Juan Antonio is flanked by fellow artists, drinking and smoking and laughing.
Tempting fate, Cristina begins to make eyes at Juan Antonio. And it's only a matter of time before the artist comes to the table of Vicky and Cristina in Barcelona.
In a scene that is both funny and sexy, Juan Antonio proposes the two young ladies fly with him to a little getaway for more wine, more conversation, more art, and sex.
Being "engaged", Vicky initially rebukes the forward Spaniard, leaving him to Cristina. Eventually Vicky will succumb to the sexy Spaniard as well. But, being "engaged", Vicky must leave the romantic Spaniard to Cristina.
Cristina falls in love with Juan Antonio. Cristina falls in love with the life of the artist; the freedom, the creative spirit, and the passion. In a very poignant and insightful speech, Cristina clearly channels Woody Allen and every American who ever longed to shed their puritanical American skin if only to experience a life unfettered by moral judgement, shame, and self-doubt.
And then comes Maria Elena, played with power and conviction by likely Oscar nominee Penelope Cruz. Maria Elena further challenges Cristina's ideas of art, life, love, and sex.
After living in cinematic exile for years, we loyal, we few, Woody Allen fans, have come to expect half empty movie houses; where there's peace and quiet, a certain meditative experience; before the lights lower, some older than god piece of Classical music or Jazz plays, and the classic white on black title credits glow upon our adoring, expectant, wide-eyed faces.
But, as I was settling into my seat this night, observing the usual suspects filing into the empty screening room: the college professor-types, the hipster-bookworm power of the mind postmodern boy/girl couples, aging Baby Boomers, and Woody worshippers like me; something truly remarkable happened: the theater began to actually fill up, with "normal" people. So much so, that my usual invisible wall of protection that normally surrounded me, protecting me from talkers, eaters, and fidgeters, began to disinegrate; leaving me exposed to the elements.
Who were these people, and where did they come from? Did THE DARK KNIGHT sell out? Did they show up too early for TROPIC THUNDER? Whatever the reason, after initially squirming and coughing through the first 10-15 minutes of boilerplate high-brow Woody Allen dialogue, another remarkable thing happened: a smattering of laughter here, a sprinkling of whispers there, a stray kiss or two scattered about, and before you knew it, this near capacity crowd was caught up in the sexy word play and passionate antics of the characters on the screen.
And just for a minute there, I caught a fleeting glimpse of, the possibility of, the potential for, The Resurrection of Woody Allen.
And just as Mr. Allen's heyday lay within the Sexual Revolution of the 1970's, a turbulent decade many have compared to present day America; one wonders: are we ripe for another Sexual Revolution?