Review: Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008) ****

Javier Bardem and Scarlett Johansson in Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Like a fleeting love affair in a beautiful foreign country, Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona is probably best appreciated for what it is rather than analyzed for what it means. It’s a bit of a trifle to be sure, but a supremely engaging and entertaining one. More importantly, it’s aimed squarely at adults and, in a summer season full of gags and stunts and explosions for the short attention span set, it’s a welcome relief.
Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson are friends Vicky and Cristina. Brunette Vicky is the sensible one in Barcelona to complete her masters study of Catalonian culture. She’s got a dependable if unexciting fiancé waiting for her back home and seemingly little desire to step off of life’s well-marked path. Sexy blond Cristina on the other hand is more capricious. She’s along for the ride and doesn’t really know where she’s going in life, but seems happy to follow her heart.
When they meet Javier Bardem’s Juan Antonio, a handsome local artist with a gossiped about romantic past, Vicky balks at his invitation for a weekend (and a threesome) in Oviedo, but Cristina of course is instantly intrigued. The two women ultimately take the side trip and it’s the beginning of a series of romantic pairings that make up the heart of the film.
When Juan Antonio’s unbalanced ex-wife Maria Elena shows up unexpectedly, the situation becomes a little complicated. Played by lovely Penélope Cruz, she’s an artist like Juan Antonio and they’re the kind of volcanic couple who can’t seem to live together yet can’t seem to live apart.
By the time Vicky’s fiancé Doug (Chris Messina) arrives, Allen’s simple setup has taken on the makings of a romantic farce. However, he keeps the film grounded by a more clear-eyed approach to this story of summer lovers. Vicky Cristina Barcelona fills you with longing for a romanticized ideal of the way things could be, but never strays too far from the way things really are. Captured in a perpetual honey-hued glow (even the hookers are pleasingly photogenic), Catalonia is the perfect setting for an adult fairytale, but the film is also tinged with a sobering sense of sadness. It’s a perfect blending of yin and yang that goes down smoothly, easily and entertainingly, giving you a teasing taste of life’s possibilities without wandering too far into the unbelievable.
Like Barcelona itself, the cast is impossibly beautiful. Of the Americans, Rebecca Hall has the most interesting part and she’s up to the task. Being the more sober of the two, Vicky could easily have been a buzz kill, but Hall infuses the character with just the right touch of humor to make her likeable. Once the Spanish guitar kicks in and her façade begins to melt, you melt right along with her. Scarlett Johansson isn’t given much credit as an actress, but she’s just right as the adventurous, but slightly lost Cristina. She’s creative and has a devil-may-care attitude, but she’s never ditzy. She simply hasn’t found that thing in life that she’s great at.
The Americans are good, but the Spaniards Javier Bardem and Penélope Cruz provide most of the zest both individually and as a couple. Bardem starts off as the stereotypical Latin lover, all languid sensuality and smooth Spanish accented words, but he reveals a surprising depth and soul as the film goes along. Juan Antonio is a far cry from Anton Chigurh and it takes little imagination to understand how three different women could fall in love with him.
Cruz meanwhile is having quite a year herself. Already having turned in an excellent performance in Elegy, she shifts gears here as the fiery Maria Elena. Like Bardem, her character begins as another stereotype, this time of the hot-blooded Latin variety, but for Cruz it’s just a springboard. Her Maria Elena is multi-layered, mutable and just a little bit unhinged. One minute she’s vulnerable and the next she’s dark and cynical. Together, Maria Elena and Juan Antonio are a volatile and sexy pair and the perfect counterpoint to the more reserved Vicky and Cristina.
Narratively, Allen covers a lot of territory with the extensive use of voiceover. Every hack with a copy of Robert McKee on his bookshelf will stomp his feet and shake his head at this supposedly lazy screenwriting trick, but this is yet another example of voiceover that works. For one, it infuses the film with Allen’s literary voice (though not his real voice as the narration is supplied by another actor) and it also allows him to convey a lot of information without getting bogged down. Instead of bothering with a lot of exposition, Allen can focus his cameras on the juiciest and most interesting bits while filling in the blanks through narration. It gives the film a breezy pace, which in turn adds to the sense of carefree lightness and keeps the story constantly moving.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona may not rank among Woody Allen’s best films, but it’s easily one of the most enjoyable movies of the season. It never rings a false note and Allen pulls the whole thing off with the confidence and ease of a master. Like a sparkling glass of Cava on a warm summer night in Catalonia, it tickles as it goes down and it intoxicates when it gets there. Simple yet sophisticated, Vicky casts a beguiling spell that sweeps you along its brisk running time, keeping you delighted and amused while leaving just the faintest aftertaste of Allen’s trademark cynicism and melancholy. Romantic souls are sure to be captivated while I’m afraid those who find themselves immune to the easy magic might just be dead inside.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona. USA 2008. Written and directed by Woody Allen. Cinematography by Javier Aguirresarobe. Edited by Alisa Lepselter. Starring Rebecca Hall, Javier Bardem, Penélope Cruz, Scarlett Johansson, Patricia Clarkson, Chris Messina and Kevin Dunn. 1 hour 36 minutes. MPAA rated PG-13 for mature thematic material involving sexuality, and smoking. 4 stars (out of 5)
Filed under: Reviews
Tags: Chris Messina, Javier Bardem, Penelope Cruz, Rebecca Hall, Scarlett Johansson, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Woody Allen



Nice review. Agreed.
I enjoyed the film very much. It’s sensual, romantic, engaging. Like you said, simple yet sophisticated. Love it.
I struggle with this film. On one hand, I think it’s Allen’s best in several years. The Bardem and Cruz performances are so lively with so much passionate heat, angst and “zest” as you say that the other characters felt even more like the standard issue Allen archetypes. And very much unlike you, I found myself almost groaning from the narration.
Your review helpfully details many of the winning attributes of the film, however. Very well done.
Thanks Ari, as I said before, glad to have an ally in this.
Alexander, I’m trying not to compare this too much to what has come before, but simply taking it on its own. Hall and Johansson may be overly familiar Allen stock characters, but this movie for me is a little like an impromptu riff by a jazz master, covering many of the same beats and melodies but in a new and entertaining package.
What about the narration bugged you? The mere existence of it or the fact that it sounded exactly like Woody Allen but in a different voice?
I would’ve liked a different reading, but I got used to the guy who did it. The words themselves didn’t bother me at all.
“What about the narration bugged you?”
Honestly, just about everything, but as you say the fact that it sounded exactly like Allen but in a different, even more obnoxious voice is one of the chief reasons I found it deeply troublesome. That, and, again, unlike you, I thought it contributed nothing to the story. Beyond the opening, it does not tell us anything we would not have picked up from simply viewing Allen’s visuals, which are rather strong. It was needlessly distancing, and Allen’s work these days requires just about every little thing to help bring the audience in emotionally. (Here he had Bardem and Cruz, thank goodness.)
I think the film would’ve been too choppy without it, but when I see it again I’ll try to imagine it without the narration.
(full disclosure: part of the reason it didn’t bother me may have been because it DID bother Jeff Wells and I tried extra hard to make him wrong…maybe)
The narration and the entire film did NOT work for me at all. I think this omniscient male-voice-over, may have been intended as a sort of emotional clarity for a work of short fiction, but it comes off as a kind of nattering, collegiate stuntedness, that is far from novelty and precariously close to self-parody.
Cruz was fine as was Ms. Johansson, but Javier Bardem, out of his element was extremely self-conscious and awkwark.
I was not so impressed with the intoxication of the settings, as 1.) they were just as amply effective in the far superior MATCH POINT and 2.) we have seen dozens of European art films over the years that have made this element integral to the story, thus rendering its use here as supperfluous, except for its unavoidable use as the setting of the piece. ENCHANTED APRIL is one such example of perfect use of setting in this sensual context. I found the entire film a trival and trite affair, but Allen has proven in the past he can often make more with less. This is just not one of those times.
I am practically a New Yorker, (I live in North Jersey, maybe 12 minutes by car from Manhattan) I have seen every Allen film multiple times through the years, and make the annual Woodman pilgrammage one of the most anticipated filmic rituals. He is one of my absolute favorite of all American directors. This is just one instance where he flubbed the ball.
So what of it? Am I trying to emulate some pompous fool and some contrarian party crasher? Not quite. There are bad reviews out there as well as the majority of positive ones.
Craig Kennedy remains as one of absolutely finest reviewers on these blogs, as everyone on LIC has known for quite some time. He is not a loquacious blowhard like me, not a perpetuator of academic, film study discourse, and neither is he a charletan posing as a film critic.
He is the real thing, a man of poetry, a man of passion, a man of startling eloquence. He is a man not prone to overate films, or to issue angry pans. Hence it is hard to dispute him, not that it’s fun to do so.
I didn’t like VCB. Who really gives a shit?
This review by Craig Kennedy is so well written and so deeply felt, that I honestly feel like hiding in a hole right now.
Sam, there’s really no need for you to agitate so much over disagreeing with someone.
True Jeff, but Craig Kennedy is not just “someone.” I appreciate what you are saying, but I have endless respect for his opinion, so it does bother me when I have to lock horns.
Admit it Sam, you’re dead inside! I’m kidding of course.
Though I disagree, I get your (and Alexander’s) problem with the voice over. I take issue with people who dismiss such a thing out of habit, but I see that neither of you are doing that here. That one we’ll just have to chalk up to personal taste I expect.
As for your other points, I can’t deny VCB’s similarity to other, perhaps better films, but as I’ve said before I’m considering this one very much in a vaccuum. I never had a ‘been there, done that’ feeling while I was watching it, so I didn’t let such a thing creep into my review. It’s a fair point though and I can see how it would stick out and irritate if you weren’t already engaged by the film in other ways.
I have to say though, your takedown of Javier Bardem is a total mystery to me. I’m not saying you’re wrong, but that my experience with his performance was totally different. Interesting that you didn’t buy him at all. For me the weakest link in the chain was Scarlett, but she has a permanent get out of jail free card from me.
Anyway, I sense that you (and perhaps Alexander as well) took a much more intellectually rigorous approach to this film, big fans of Allen as you are, and I wonder if that was the utlimate stumbling block for you. My response to the film was purely emotional and I tried to convey that a little bit in the review.
I’m not suggesting one approach is better or worse than the other, I’m simply trying to account for two strongly different reactions from people who seem to agree more often than not.
I have to say though, it’s nice to argue once in a while. Sometimes I worry that people are too nice to me.
Craig, you’re the first I’ve read to say anything positive over the narration. Critics either hate it (and go after it with butcher knives in hand) or seem to be ambivalent, not mentioning it at all. I was more in the ambivalent set; it didn’t bother me at all, but I found it didn’t add much either.
But some people are really hating on it, which I find interesting. Your dismissal of that perspective (“Every hack with a copy of Robert McKee on his bookshelf will stomp his feet and shake his head at this supposedly lazy screenwriting trick”) probably rings with quite a bit of truth. I would imagine that the casual filmgoer will not be bothered at all by the narration; they might find it odd, but it won’t set their inner rage a burning.
“For me the weakest link in the chain was Scarlett, but she has a permanent get out of jail card from me.”
Not THAT’S a classic!!!!
Yeah, I can’t explain it, but in this role Bardem rung completely false to me–he seemed labored. And Scarlett always passes the test for obvious reasons. LOL.
I can’t dispute your emotional reaction, that’s something that can never really be explained as in a similar reaction to any film. It interesting that Evan Derrick’s very fine review over at Movie Zeal seens to fall right in the middle of our own assessments–he praised the sensual setting, but seemed a bit aloof to the playing out of the slight material.
All I can really say to you is that it didn’t resonate with me on an emotional level, so perhaps that explains it’s distancing effect, but I highly respect your different reaction, and being that it’s an Allen film, another side of me is beaming.
I’m no fan of David Denby, but he compares the Allen narration to that in Truffaut:
http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/cinema/2008/08/11/080811crci_cinema_denby
Congrads, Craig, for your richly descriptive — even sensual — review. I’ll see VCB no matter what, but I feel you’ve put me in the best frame of mind (or nonmind) for it. Now if only that loquacious Mr. Juliano hadn’t hated it. . . . (just kidding, everyone).
I can’t speculate, Sam, as to why you reacted negatively, but the film does seem to fall outside of Woody’s usual ouvre. And the ad campaigns and reviews seem to be laced with an anticipatory undercurrent, that is, “Woody’s best in 20 years,” as if to lower our expectations.
I’ll form my own opinion of the narration but am reminded that, despite Mr. McKee’s admonitions, narration — when used inventively — can greatly enrich a film. (Tom Jones comes to mind, but there are others.)
You didn’t mention Patricia Clarkson, Craig. Did she get lost in the fray?
I’m going to go out on a small limb and suggest you will be seduced by this film Pierre, but I’m not very good at such predictions.
The narration doesn’t add as much as it does in…say…a Coen film or film noir…but I’m standing by my claim it was a necessary and welcome element….for now.
Clarkson got edited out of my review. She was engaging as always, but her part was pretty small.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona ranks among your best film reviews, Craig. I don’t know what I’ll think of the film but I loved the craft on display here. As many have noted before your writing flows with a silky rhythm, and nuanced and sophisticated observations effortlessly unfold. It goes down as smoothly and pleasingly as fine brandy.
Like Pierre I feel that you’ve given me a way into the film, of bringing the right mindset to forgive the less original or interesting aspects and to savor what it does well.
I like reading that the film shows off a sense of place. Barcelona is one of my favorite places on the planet.
Sam, I appreciate that it pains you to contradict in opinion someone you hold in such high esteem. But a world in which we all have the identical reactions to art wouldn’t be a very passionate and intellectually stimulating one. And when in disagreement you never offer a contrasting take in a disrespectful manner.
Ohhhh….I have EVERY expectation that our fair PIERRE (see…I made a rhyme) will be seduced by this.
Your eyes fill up with beauty from this one, PIERRE. Of every imaginable kind…
WOW. My lovely and erudite Sam is raining harsh on the gorgeous Mr. Bardem. Have to say, I have a LOT of experience with these types in the real world and I thought he was magnificent. He completely convinced ME.
When you compare JUAN ANTONIO to that goof ANTON…
Well, THERE IS NO COMPARISON. That’s an astounding range. This is why he’s a great actor. Plus I have an interview with him that I put up onsite where he claims to be NOTHING like JUAN ANTONIO. AT ALL.
So I’m even more impressed…
“even the hookers are pleasingly photogenic…”
Craig, you passionate romantic, you. Hardy hardy har…
Awesomely fabulous review. AS ALWAYS. I see we both gave this four stars. Just like MY BLUEBERRY NIGHTS.
I knew there was something I liked about you, crab boy.
Great minds, baby. GREAT MINDS….
And nice to have you back, sartre. If I didn’t tell you all ready…
I decided in the end that I was more positive about the film than negative. But I do think that the film has Allen’s lech’s gaze, particularly as it pertains to the Vicky story, which I didn’t buy at all. Match Point seemed like an effort to justify some of the more famously sordid aspects of his love life. The Vicky story feels like a aggrandized fantasy of his sexual prowess.
I left all of Woody’s personal baggage at home while I was watching the movie. I didn’t get a sense of self-aggrandizement so much as a sense of wish-fulfillment that is ultimately disappointed.
I haven’t gotten around to many other reviews yet besides Denby and Darghis, but it should be interesting. This one seems to be dividing people pretty strongly.
It’s certainly true that a taint has followed Woody ever since the Soon-Yi mess and it’s difficult indeed to separate his films from that cloud. It was hard enough to view him as a sexual being in the first place as he paired off onscreen with the likes of Diane Keaton and Mariel Hemingway.
But I’m not going to judge him. Since the first silent films were created, plenty of salaciousness has occurred behind the camera and away from the set — much of it we don’t know about and a lot of it may be inaccurate or misunderstood. Every time I see a Jeff Chandler film, for example, I can’t help but imagine him in full female regalia, as he was known to do behind closed doors. When studio boy-god Irving Thalberg’s name pops up, I can’t stop the images of him and Norma Shearer enjoying a genteel dinner at home — she garbed in a man’s tuxedo and Irving in full drag.
Even in the general populace, so-called kinkiness we’re not privy to regularly occurs behind closed doors in our suburban tract homes. So I simply can’t bring myself to use my purchasing power at the multiplex to be affected by what an actor or director does offscreen.
Call me amoral or whatever, but that’s how I feel.
“she garbed in a man’s tuxedo and Irving in full drag.” thanks for that picture!
In this case, I think I was helped enormously by not having Woody actually in the picture. Yes they were obviously his words in the dialogue and narration, but I didn’t get that lechy feeling at all. This was not Icky Cristina Barcelona for me, despite what we know of the Woodster.
Thanks Sartre for those kind and reassuring words, as always.
Pierre: I can pinpoint why I didn’t care much for VCB, but I do admit I am disappointed to feel this way. Your speculation though, on that one point seems sound though.
Cannot wait to see this! Ugh
Well, it’s not so much judging as providing context to what I find questionable in the film. I have a difficult time with the Vicky character, because I think either she’s too arty to be so committed to the guy she’s committed to, or she has too much of an intelligent corporate personality to fall for an artist for so little. It seems to me that it could be one or the other, but not both. I think Allen is painting the landscape unrealistically for the benefit of his stand-in character, who just happens to be hunkier than he is.
Then again, look at how many women he’s nailed that are out of his league. Maybe I should be trying Spanish guitar.
I really agree here with K. Bowen’s observations and then some.
I didn’t take Bardem as a stand-in for Allen at all. He may have intended it that way, but it didn’t cross my mind. If anything, there’s a piece of him in all the characters and they’re at cross purposes.
Vicky is indeed a contradiction, but that’s what makes her interesting to me. It’s the old left-brain, right-brain war. She’s an artificial construct, but I wasn’t looking for this movie to plumb the depths of the human soul. It entertained while dipping its toe in more resonant issues and that was enough. For me.
I just saw this last night and enjoyed it very much, I think it’s Allen’s best of this decade, ahead of Match Point or Small Time Crooks.
If Vicky seems to be unrealistic, I’d suggest that it’s because Allen’s conception of her has more to do with women of his generation than women of that age today. She’s hemmed-in, married to a bland businessman, with no clear sign of an actual career of her own beyond decorating their suburban house, and her attitudes seem to be more based on women of the 1950s than today.
I didn’t see Bardem as an Allen stand-in at all, and while the narration seemed a little stilted, I didn’t have a big problem with it. Maybe it needed a different actor’s delivery.
Even as a fan of the narration, I think a different delivery would’ve been better. Honestly, I might’ve liked it better if Woody had done it himself, though his voice is so recognizeable it might’ve been too much.
Interesting point about ’50s Vicky. I hadn’t thought of that, though I definitely didn’t feel like the characters were intended to be realistic in a modern sense. There was a heavy degree of stylization all around from the postcard rendering of Barcelona on down to the dialogue and the characters.
Not Woody himself, but it needed to be someone with a little more age and authority, along the lines of a Sam Waterston or Brian Cox.
Woody popped into my head because the words were so Woody…it’s easy to imagine him doing it, but I like your take better, particularly Cox.
I saw this film last night, and about that narration. . . . I thought it was novel and effective. Everything about it — including the clipped pace — seemed directed by Allen for a specific purpose. I firmly believe that the narration was added not for exposition per se, not to blend in with the film’s other aspects, and not as a substitute for Allen’s literary voice.
Rather, the narration seemed designed to place the film in a context that would not exist without it, attempting to alter the audience’s perspective and, in so doing, creating a different meaning and significance of the film.
To me, the narration placed the film in the context of “case study” — as if to suggest that we were watching the film as psychologists or scientists viewing the unfolding events as sociological or anthropological phenomena. Let’s face it, Allen is presenting us a series of events that reflect a social order that is different and apart from the traditional American norm. We become witnesses to adult social interactions that operate with fewer constraints from — along with different relationships with — existing societal structures so that we can look at ourselves without all the chatter that tends to dominate our decisions and behavior.
By inserting the narration as he has done, Allen apears to be trying to supply the viewer with a perspective that is unbridled by moral value judgments about the behaviors being portrayed. I believe he’s attempting to remove for us, in his cinematic context, the manmade, artificial strictures that control our lives (both inter- and intrapersonal) and strip things down to naturally occurring human impulses and feelings.
Rather than construct and define our lives by what other people have decided is “good” or “bad,” Allen is suggesting the advisability of looking at ourselves as ourselves — not what society tells us — with the goal of more easily finding personal fulfillment and, therefore, happiness.
Since I’m apparently on a roll here, let me add a couple more observations. The Vicky character (Rebecca Hall) to me is a clear example of inner struggle and contradiction. Her physical appearance seems reserved and her fiance, though attractive, is rather conventional. On the other hand, she’s drawn to a good friend (Cristina) known to be attracted to various excesses that Vicky may vicariously savor. In addition, Vicky’s academic area (study of Catalan culture) can represent, without much effort — a deep, hidden desire for — or at least a fascination with — a bohemian life unfettered by convention. Vicky appears to have framed these deeper visceral impulses in an academic context and, through the process, has distanced herself from them — while at the same time keeping them nearby via her friend Cristina. Seems to me that a trip to Spain, aided by the wings of chance, render her ripe for the plucking by her Catalan admirer (Bardem).
Regarding Bardem as a stand-in character for the film’s director, I feel that Woody is using him as a signpost, not just for himself but for others, as well, just as he’s using the Vicky and Cristina characters as signposts so that we can safely place ourselves in these characters shoes, savor the wine as it tastes to them at the moment, and take in the view from their perspectives.
I’m still digesting what you’ve said about the narration, but moving on to your second comment about Vicky “Seems to me that a trip to Spain, aided by the wings of fate, render her ripe for the plucking.” I totally agree. For me she represents every timid and uptight person who deep down has a romantic soul…like me, which is perhaps why I so strongly identified with the film.
Craig, when I see a film by a director as experienced and accomplished as Woody Allen — and containing narration in direct contrast to the style and tone of the rest of the film — I have to ask myself why. There must be a reason. . . .
I ask myself, what does this narration remind me of? The most obvious answer is some kind of nondramatic, nontheatrical film. Then I keep asking. . . .
I think I asked less because it didn’t bother me at all. I agree with Alison and a few others that I would’ve preferred a different voice actor, but Allen isn’t a hack and I don’t think he’s just lazy. He was going for something. Whether he succeeded or not is debatable, but it worked for me.
Craig, if you would’ve preferred a different voice actor, then the question might be — why didn’t Woody do that?
He obviously had his reasons. At first like Alison I thought perhaps I would’ve preferred he did it himself, but I’ve reconsidered. The words just sound so much like him, it seemed odd hearing them come from someone else.
After making dozens of films, many of them critically praised, and aided by the help of creative advisers and a talented, experienced casting director, Woody had his reasons and I’d bet the farm on it.
So far we have a few possible ones, including:
1. Woody was lazy
2. Woody didn’t know what he was doing
3. Woody is over the hill and can’t see the nose in front of his face.
Assuming — for the sake of argument — that Woody Allen knows as much about filmmaking as we do, what other reasons might there be?
I have no problem with the context or manner of the voiceover but I think the delivery was off-tone because of the casting of the actor. Which reminds me of what I think is the common major flaw in Allen’s films of the last decade or so, which for me is stilted dialogue readings, in ways that real people don’t speak. Stilted dialogue basically destroyed Cassandra’s Dream for me above and beyond its dramatic flaws.
4. Woody has lost it…?
I skipped Cassandra’s Dream, but there was a layer of artificiality to VCB that didn’t bother me in the slightest. Perhaps because of the lightly comic tone.
I believe realism in movies is overrated anyway. Things that have been more stylized have been appealing to me lately. My Blueberry Nights for example. Not realistic at all, but genuine in the emotions it taps. I feel the same about VCB.
Craig, I agree that ‘realism’ isn’t necessarily something that should be valued over emotional truth, but when emotional truth doesn’t really feel present, whatareyougonnado?
I agree with Pierre’s marvelous analysis of the narration as helping to define the film as a “case study” on Allen’s part. It made the film into something of a Brechtian exercise, kind of a more pleasing, less discomforting Deconstructing Harry. The idea is quite interesting, but I found the execution to be distracting, needlessly distancing, annoying and ultimately pointless–and I agree with others that the particular actor’s voice and delivery doubtless had a good deal to do with that.
I’m with Pierre and Craig on Vicky. Her interest in Catalan culture, the guitar-playing… The way Bardem’s character merely points out how she was moved by the guitar, the lushness of their evening together–Allen certainly made her an outwardly conservative person with a very strong but usually hidden and reserved romanticism. Allen makes the point with greater emphasis near the end, when, after Vicky has finally recounted the entire tale to the bubbly, impulsive Cristina, her friend is blindsided and is almost in disbelief. She didn’t see those elements to her friend beneath the surface, and perhaps Vicky didn’t see them herself until they finally surfaced, but they were there regardless.
Ok, now I need an analysis of why I’m so defensive about this particular movie. I think I already know, but feel free to pull me apart. :)
Was it that one night of forbidden passion with Javier Bardem, Craig?
Sounds to me like you were just taken away by the film and you sort of fell in love with it, Craig. It took you to a magical place with exquisite, evocative beauty and tenderness. There are many parts of the film that did that to me, too, especially once a particular Spanish beauty entered the story. Sadly, I found it uneven, but as I said at CCC today, you and others have convinced me to take another look before too long. I’m too much of an Allen fan to casually dismiss anything he makes–well, maybe Scoop… ehh, maybe not…
I don’t think it counts as forbidden with the Europeans, Jeff. Just another weekend in the country.
That’s part of it, Alexander, but usually I can understand people’s different reactions better. I get why people hated Speed Racer and I also get why people hated My Blueberry Nights. At worst, VCB just seemed so pleasant and harmless.
I honestly haven’t found anyone who hated Vicky Cristina Barcelona, though. If you have, Craig, point the way, because I’d be sort of interested in such a radical viewpoint. I ultimately hated one aspect of it, due to what I thought was unfortunate execution, but even there I can see the point to it and the rationale behind it.
It is largely a harmless and pleasant film, though, which was another reason I found it more “classically” Woody Allen than some of his more recent borderline intellectually nihilistic affairs.
Thanks for the compliments on my analysis. I’ll only reemphasize my belief that the delivery of the narration was purposeful — and specifically directed by Allen for intended effect. There’s an entire layer of meaning there that brings this film to another level. Although VCB can be enjoyed without it, this film stands to survive scrutiny in decades to come.
Some of the greatest films emerging from the New Wave or the neorealists had aspects that commentators initially found out of place or jarring. If I could think of an example, I would. Maybe later in the day when my brain wakes up. . . .
I feel that if the pacing had been a bit quicker, this film would rate among Allen’s best.
It was purposeful, but the purpose was muddied by the execution, in my humble opinion.
Your comment begs my next question, jeffmcm — how was it muddied? What could be different about the narration that would make it better? And how would one define better? Do you feel that the narration should have been delivered in a manner or tone more consistent with that of the film as a whole? If so, why?
This discussion may seem pedantic to some by now, but I don’t really believe that. To me, it’s just too easy to draw conclusions about a film or a director’s perceived intentions and to assume the worst without asking questions. When a significant aspect of a film by someone with Allen’s talent and stature seems to jump off the screen as curiously out-of-place or just plain odd, I don’t think it’s wise to characterize it as a mistake or shortcoming, especially after one viewing and without exploring some alternatives. That’s a drawback to having to write reviews quickly — and a particular drawback to awarding star or “thumbs up” ratings. I know it’s the nature of the beast when one reviews films on a regular basis, but blogs like this one allow us to ponder with the help of others’ input, some of it contradictory.
Many of the films we now regard highly were initially received poorly by critics and/or the public — only to be revisited, reinterpreted and rediscovered, in whole or in part. Aspects of films by directors such as Hitchcock, Antonioni, Rossellini and Cassavetes, for example, have been criticized at times and then reevaluated.
The acting area of narration and voicework is highly competitive where only the best get work. Allen’s longtime casting director has been enormously successful in finding for Allen what he seeks in his performers. Allen is known for his meticulous production style and ability to elicit from his performers what he wants as evidenced by the many awards and critical acclaim bestowed. It does not seem logical to me — especially as someone who has done radio and voice work in the past , as well as acting and producing — that such a prominent aspect of an otherwise very good film might be so easily bungled. Rather, I find it preferable to consider possibilities that challenge my imagination.
Well, the flip side of that coin is the idea that every choice of an auteur is intentional, meaningful, and desireable, and while someone like Woody Allen has certainly earned the benefit of the doubt in his career, he also has earned some skepticism over the last decade or so. Like I said earlier, one trend in Allen’s last batch of movies, which was particularly obvious just a few months back in Cassandra’s Dream, has been good actors giving stilted, artificial line readings. Ewan McGregor and Colin Farrell were being directed by a legendary, multiple-Oscar-winner, and they sounded like amateurs in an off-Broadway production. It was that bad, for me. So it’s very easy for me to believe that Allen simply bungled this aspect as he’s bungled similar aspects lately as well.
Let me also clarify my issue with the narration: I don’t have a problem with it’s presence, its dry, Brechtian qualities, its after-the-fact case-study aspects. My issue was simply that it felt like it was being read by an actor too young and a little too callow and that the words and thoughts were those of a much older, more experienced man, and there was a conceptual and tonal disconnect as a result.
I’m not aware of any other possible interpretation that would make this ‘right’, if you are, let me know.
If there was one movie that the narration would seem to be designed to resemble, it was what Kubrick did in Barry Lyndon. That, and I keep reading what Truffaut did in Jules and Jim in other reviews.
The comparison to Truffaut’s Jules et Jim makes a world of sense, considering how much of an “homage” Allen’s story is to that film, though it’s difficult for me to judge the difference in effectiveness since I don’t know French. What the narrator says in Jules et Jim, however, seemed much more interesting and less superfluous. That’s it, I’ll have to see Jules et Jim again later this week.
Regarding Pierre’s point about Allen choosing the particular actor to read the narration a certain way–knowing what he wants at all times–I have no doubt Allen’s decisions were all conscious efforts to realize his own vision, the success of which we are left to judge.
We’re starting to go around in circles, jeffmcm. The reason I mention imagination is to suggest, where does a particular device take you? Interpreting art is not about setting limits to one’s imagination, it’s the opposite. Mentioning stilted line readings by actors in past films is valid but limiting if that’s where it ends. If Allen were dissatisifed with a narration such as that in VCB, however, it would be easy to fix or replace as compared with a performance by an actor appearing onscreen.
As far as coming up with an interpretation that would “make this right,” I’ve already done that. I don’t want this exchange to become an issue of wills or egos, but I’ve yet to hear how you would change it so that it would be “better.”
I like the Barry Lyndon reference…but then I’m a sucker for Kubrick.
As for the narration, I can only speak to my own response, and I have. It may well have been exactly as Woody intended, but the fellow’s manner was a little discordant to me. That too ma have been Woody’s intention, but I can’t read minds other than my own.
Just because a movie came out the way it was intended, doesn’t mean it ‘works’ for me, and if it doesn’t I have no choice but to say so. There have been plenty of movies that may have been perfect replicas of the artist’s imagination, but I hated them anyway.
Is it fair to criticize a film for not being the movie I wanted it to be? Probably not, but I don’t see where I have a choice. And I don’t think any artist is perfect. They’re all capable of making choices that don’t ultimately suit their intentions. Unless we ask Woody hiimself (and choose to believe his answer), we will probably never know.
I guess I’m trying to carve out a territory that is closer to where Jeff is on the narration than Pierre. The content and concept were perfect, but the line readings were discordant. I’ll allow that second viewings (and I aim to have one soon) may alter my expectations and conclusions.
Alexander, I too should probably revisit Jules et Jim since it keeps cropping up. Not that I needed an excuse…I’m just saying.
What I’m trying to do, Craig, is relate the narration — as is — to the whole and to suggest an interpretation that represents an additional layer of meaning that would not exist were the narration more aesthetically pleasing taken by itself.
This point gives rise to the more general issue of listening to first impressions but not letting them interfere with one’s imagination.
Yes I completely understand where you’re coming from, I’m just saying I can’t get there until I see the film again.
Well that’s the best that anyone could do, and I appreciate your forbearance, Craig, of what may seem to some like button-pushing.
After I posted my last comment, Craig, I tried to edit in more but didn’t do it quickly enough. Essentially I was saying that one of the best aspects that I perceive of your own reviewing process is that you seem to approach a film as if you were a blank canvas, thereby allowing all possibilities to occur, as devoid as possible from letting preexisting attitudes and judgments to cloud the experience. I believe this quality extends to your written reviews, and I acknowledge that your VCB review, for example, helped lead me to possible interpretations I wouldn’t have come to on my own.
Let’s face it — when directors are interviewed about their thematic or symbolic intentions regarding a particular film, they often plead ignorance and innocence to the interpretations that others have made from their creative output.
In the case of VCB’s narration as a cinematic device — the above paragraph notwithstanding — one is well-served to consider possibilities on all sides of the coin. Sometimes it takes me years — and multiple viewings — to see something that ultimately seems as clear as day and affects my regard for a cinematic work. Sometimes I miss things that are plain as the nose on my face. The goal of the process is to remain open to the possibilities, which you have done — and graciously so, as always.
It’s impossible to remain completely open minded, but I try to make clear what my biases and pre-conceived ideas are when they crop up. I also try to remember that, while a review captures an impression at a moment in time, these things are mutable. A person’s mood or what they had for dinner can color their response to a film and each person’s experience is different. The nature of reviewing calls for taking a stand one way or the other, but I’m glad for the comments section for the interesting discussion.
“. . . but I’m glad for the comments section for the interesting discussion.”
That’s the beauty of the internets. Intellectual discourse that occurs with such immediacy and rapidity is something we didn’t have until very recently. Although there’s no substitute for feeling an experience in real time, the opportunity to compare notes in this manner is as good as — or better than — a year in film school.
Agreed, and I don’t think good professional critics are going away either. The ones who can adapt to the new medium and the give and take will thrive more than ever before.
The ones who insist on preaching down from a perch of wisdom and all-knowingness aren’t going to be very happy however.
I hope that my comments aren’t perceived as preaching — I’ve spent considerable time here trying to emphasize the benefits of open process rather than a necessity for the deduction of a particular conclusion.
Pierre, I understand what you’re saying, but I think in this particular situation my work as a viewer is done because I’ve reached a conclusion that feels right and appropriate (aka, that the voiceover mostly works except for one aspect, where Woody did what he wanted, and which I find distracting).
I believe I said earlier in this thread that to improve the voiceover I would have cast an older, more seasoned actor like Brian Cox or Sam Waterston. I don’t see on this thread where you offer your interpretation on Allen’s choice of the youth of the actor, which to repeat myself, is the aspect that I find problematic.
If I were to offer an interpretation based on ‘what’s on the screen” I can only say that the casting of the narrator and his delivery of the lines tends to undermine the narration and the content of the voiceover, because it’s being delivered by somebody of roughly the same age and social milieu of Vicky and Cristina – therefore, what makes him an expert on their inner lives? He lacks authority, therefore it suggests that he shouldn’t be taken seriously. But since the narration is already at a level of disconnect, a second level of ironic disconnect would seem to be redundant and self-defeating, and out of tone with the rest of the film.
Jeff — thanks for hanging in there, but why would the narrator need to be an expert on the inner lives of Vicky and Cristina? Why would he need authority?
No doubt it was clear to Woody that his narrator projected youth. Why is it so difficult for you to imagine that Woody did what he did for a reason? (For one thing, his youthful-sounding voice adds a layer of humor.) Why do you seem so reluctant to imagine the possibilities in that direction? Why are you so relucant to consider the possibility that Woody — an accomplished filmmaker who has made an otherwise very good film — knew what he was doing?
Long after the rest of the human race may have grown weary of this exchange, I might add a note of thanks, jeff, for helping me gain more insight into this film. For example, when you mentioned the narrator’s social milieu as similar to that of Vicky and Cristina, I found my mind wandering — while in the bathtub — considering the notion that, because he may be of similar age and social milieu to these characters, he also might be as much of a voyeur as he is a clinical observer — or at least more likely to NOT be judgmental of the characters’ bed-hopping behavior than someone older or who projects authority (a set-up not dissimilar to Vicky’s early, well-defined academic interest in Catalan culture).
These conversations — perhaps seeming belabored to some — can have value.
I’m enjoying this conversation as a voyeur myself. I have nothing to add to it, but as you know I really liked the movie and I like seeing two people politely hashing it out.
Conversations like these are why I blog…that and because I’m an attention whore.
. . . and here I thought you were checking for insurance purposes — to make sure no one requires medical attention. . . .
Taking Pierre’s quest for greater understanding of the narration in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and why Allen opted for it, with the “young” narrator and everything else, I think it’s safe to say that for a long time now narration in films has been a risky choice.
While I’m certainly more than willing to ponder the probability that Allen knew just exactly what he wanted, and had his reasons–which in this instance, I think, was to treat the film as a comically shrouded analysis, not dissimilar from his apparent distancing technique for Husbands and Wives (but it was much more fitting for that film, in my opinion, since it’s like a Bergman film with a running, parallel Q&A documentary, as in The Passion of Anna, and the Q&A contributes some significant insights into the characters).
An older man narrating Vicky Cristina Barcelona may or may not have been better than what Allen settled on. Depending on the kind of voice and delivery, it might have felt strangely creepy to hear an obviously older man discuss the love lives of a couple of twenty-something women (of course, that might be because it’s a film by Woody Allen, zing), or it might have been completely “right.”
I do think that even the most accomplished, consistent and brilliant filmmaker can have what he or she thinks is a tremendous concept in mind, but for whatever reason that may just not “work” for certain viewers.
I agree that the “young” narrator is perceptibly less inclined to be “judgmental” about the bed-hopping you describe, Pierre. And, as a result, I think that going that way was probably the correct route, but perhaps another “young” man’s voice would have been more appropriate. Possibly a fellow with a mellifluous, romantic voice, or at least more ephemeral delivery, which could have better suited Allen’s film… Or, you could say that Allen wanted that starker contrast between the narration and the rest of the film to make a point, and that was one of his chief reasons for using the man, the delivery and the dialogue he had written.
Thanks for the comments, Alexander. Often, the best films are cryptic and subject to intense analysis and debate. While I don’t consider VCB a great film, I think there’s more there than meets the eye, and part of it has to do with the narration and its connection to the rest of the film. An aspect of any film by a good filmmaker that stands so apart from the remaining tone of the film makes me sit straight up and hesitate to make judgments.
To me, the film with narration as is works better because it seems funnier that way, avoids a few pitfalls that might’ve been there with an older-sounding voice, and somehow seems to lend better accessibility to Allen’s themes.
At first I was a bit let down by Bardem’s performance until I considered the notion that it was played a little toned down because of the character. He could’ve played it bigger, broader, more Oscary, but I don’t think that would’ve fit. That was Penelope’s job.
After all this analysis, I’m anxious to see it again.
Congratulations to Pierre, Jeff, Craig, and Alexander for a fascinating and erudite discussion. It’s particularly welcoming to read so much from Pierre again. He’s a wonderful writer who always offers thoughtful and original analysis. I can have no opinion on a film unseen. But the discussion here has given me so many interesting angles against which to gauge my own subsequent experience of it. Can’t ask for more.
When’s the movie coming to NZ?
I have no idea Craig. I suspect it’ll be sometime in the next 2-3 months. Some art house films get here relatively quickly and others not. But you’ve got a greater chance of seeing them in small cities here than in their US equivalents..
Just for the record, I’m on the same page with Pierre re: the voiceover. We’re just on different paragraphs.
Nicely put Jeff.
I like Pierre’s approach of challenging oneself to try and understand deliberate choices made by an auteur that feel discordant. It can open up a whole new layer of craft and meaning as it does for him with this film. Then again, I also appreciate that such openness and effort doesn’t automatically redeem or validate the artistic choice for a given viewer.
That, plus we’re also talking about a filmmaker who has admitted in public that he arranges his shooting schedules so that he can make sure to go to Knicks games and have nice dinners every night. I love Woody Allen, but he’s not exactly a Fincher-esque demon for the details.
True, but do you think his choice of the narrator’s age and style was likely a less calibrated one?
Less calibrated than what?
By referring to Woody’s less Fincher-like attention to detail were you suggesting the age and style of the narrator didn’t necessarily imply deeply thought through decisions?
Well, I think ‘lack of deep thought’ applies better to a bad movie, like Cassandra’s Dream or Anything Else. I think the style of the narrator worked more than it didn’t, but it still wasn’t up to 100% success for me, and I would attribute that to either laziness or a tin ear on Allen’s part.
Like I said, though, I still like the movie quite a bit and believe the narration as is adds more than it subtracts.
Just when I thought this thread had become part of the Dead Sea scrolls, it has risen like a phoenix. Thanks for the kind, thoughtful, comments, sartre.
The bulk of VCB carries a noteworthy aesthetic appeal not always present in Allen’s films. This includes the camera work and lighting, locations, and use of color and music. The onscreen performances, as well, are well modulated. In addition, the screenwriting seems well thought out and executed. When I noticed the narration, initially grating in its quicker pacing and delivery by a seemingly youngish amateur, I found myself thinking there might be a reason for this. I didn’t think much about it until afterwards because there was something quite funny about the narration — meaning I laughed over the notion that some wet-behind-the-ears scientist, still moist from his postdoctoral diapers, was providing exposition, plenty of it unnecessary because it was duplicative — in other words, the nature and quantity of information that an overly eager young clinician might provide early in his career. This leads me to suspect that this role was cast in this manner because it was conceived, written, and executed to be that way.
Since I have found not only humor but layers of meaning in such an interpretation, it doesn’t make sense to presume that Allen was either negligent or in error. Though a different reading or a different actor may have been employed to greater aesthetic affect, I can’t think of any value this would have added other than aesthetics for aesthetics’ sake. Likewise, the meaning of the film as a whole might be altered, in a way that to me would at minimum be less amusing and quite possibly less engaging in terms of accessing themes.
And I’m happy for you.
And I don’t intend that to sound snotty – just that (a) speaking of the movie as a whole, we’re probably only about 5% apart in our respective estimations of the whole thing, and (b) if we continue the discussion, that’ll make today Belabor Day.
Well, it’s safe to say VCB is no disaster as some critics contend when a comment thread can run for over 80 posts, mostly in an attempt to quantify the narration alone.
Interesting stuff here. Other than the narration though, which I thought worked for what it was but didn’t work well for me, the film was really great in every other respect. The music really held the film together for me and added an airy pace that benefited the otherwise tiresome narration (which in turn the narration palatable to me, because more exposition would have simply destroyed that pacing). Without the music, I don’t think I would have enjoyed the film nearly as much.
hahaha…Belabor Day.
Care to weigh in a little on what about the narration you didn’t like Joel? I’m already on record in liking its intent (I thought it added a nice layer of breezy lightness), but I’m on the fence about the executuion (ie, the choice of narrator).
That breezy lightness you mention, Craig, is what has made it so easy for me to write these in-depth analyses. The successful pursuit of meaning comes from saying, “Yes, that’s possible” rather than “No, that’s not possible.” There aren’t that many filmmakers currently working — and who have sufficient artistic control — whose output is complex and accomplished enough to merit such attention.
I’m not sure Pierre. If you’re wondering whether my idea of “breezy lightness” is a backhanded way of criticizing it, it’s not. It was the twinkle in the film’s eye for me and that’s a good thing.
As for the deep analysis…as I said before I’m simply not there yet, though I agree with your premise of (when it comes to great artists) giving the benefit of a doubt. I prefer to look for the intentions behind an artists choice rather than automatically questioning their soundness.
Au contraire, Monsieur Kennedy. I took your “breezy lightness” as a plus.
As for deep analysis, that’s a difficult if not impossible thing to do for a film blogger who needs to stay current with everything in the marketplace and what’s coming up — not to mention what has transpired in the recent and not-so-recent past.
I chose to focus on VCB basically for 2 reasons. First, Allen touches upon themes that not only place our American view of life in perspective but also are existential in nature. Next, he is an auteur whose work in this case merits close examination of the kind merited by our best filmmakers, past and present. Going to Europe seems to have liberated Allen from the self-consciousness and seriousness that sometimes invades his work, not always to good effect.
Yeah, the breezy lightness was what made me enjoy it. If the film had taken these characters too seriously, the whole thing would have been as pretentious as Bardem’s character superficially was (and I still enjoyed him).
I didn’t mind the choice of narrator that much, and it certainly didn’t bother me as much as it did some. I just felt like the narration was overwhelming the narrative in the first half of the movie. I don’t mind narration for the sake of narration at all and in some cases, it works wonders for a movie, but in this case it felt like it was deliberately steering me though the film and the characters. I suppose in many cases, that’s exactly what narration is intended for. The narrator wasn’t only omniscient, the narrator was a substitution for my own interpretation of the characters. I found that frustrating. Luckily, Allen pulled back from that overbearing tone in the second half of the film, allowing the characters to more or less speak for themselves and allowing me to draw my own conclusions.
I guess I liked the characters enough that I would have preferred to see the narrative develop more organically from their words and actions rather than the narration. However, there was so much exposition and narrative that the narration eliminated that the tradeoff of a 90 minute running time worked in its favor. Regardless of the casting of the narrator, I’m guessing Allen figured this out for himself and that’s why the narration is there.
Having just discovered this thread I’d just like to chime in and point out that VCB is doing very well at the box office and obviously enjoying great word of mouth. Perhaps the narration isn’t as bothersome as some are making out.
Thanks for commenting, Fielding. Sorry it took so long to approve your comment. I was actually watching VCB again. Loved it even more the second time.
Now that I’m used to the guy’s voice, the narration didn’t bother me in the slightest. It completely works.
Though I have to say there was a woman in the lobby talking on the phone on the way out saying she loved everything but the narration. Go figure.
Well here’s a question, Craig – do you now think the voiceover completely works, because you’re ‘used to it’ or because there’s some piece of information that you didn’t get before that you do now? There’s a difference between those two reactions.
I think it’s a combination, Jeff. For one thing, the guy’s voice just fit better now that I’m used to it, but also I think the narration in general added a couple of subtle layers.
First of all, and this I think bounces off of what Pierre said earlier, I think there’s an irony to it because, like Allen himself, it attempts to intellectualize or rationalize the events on screen though it never succeeds in doing anything more than describe what is happening. The narrator and the story are continually confounded by the vagaries of the human heart which frequently defy narration.
It was also frequently pretty funny. Most of the blurbs set up or ended with some bit of Woody humor.
Finally, I think it conveyed important information more frequently than it’s given credit for. Many times it was simply describing actions on the screen we could see for ourself, other times it was explaining the characters’ inner states (which surely could’ve been expressed visually, though I don’t know why it’s important except from a hardess “purity of cinema” standpoint), but it also frequently included nuggets of important information. Had the narration only been used to convey these important bits, it would’ve been more obvious and distracting.
As it was, it was kind a continuum. Just another layer with a shifting role.
Not sure if any of that makes sense.
It makes sense, and a lot of what you’re saying I agree with – I’m just still skeptical of certain aspects.
So it goes, as some dude said.
I’m glad to see this conversation has continued. From where I sit, the woman in the lobby may have been looking at the narration in the short view, perhaps judging its aesthetics in a vacuum. From that perspective, reactions like hers are as valid as anyone’s.
As I’ve been saying, some films — those that operate on multiple and deeper levels — also offer a long view in which juxtapositions, in aggregate, offer an additional aesthetic and can trigger further emotional reactions or thematic possibilities.
No doubt many movie patrons who saw No Country for Old Men were turned off by aspects of the film’s concluding sequences and perhaps felt cheated by resolutions that didn’t provide the kind of payoff that Hollywood films most likely give us. What many of us know, though, is that deviations such as this are constructed to provide a bigger, better payoff that can be seen and felt — unless one is preoccupied with surface disappointments.
It’s difficult to argue with people who simply found it annoying (or unfunny) as this woman seemed to. They’re not wrong, I just had a different experience.
I think finding the narrator an unnecessary component, or grating, or as Craig says, “annoying,” is a different matter from rejecting Allen’s narrative schema. The concept is intriguing, even if it’s so familiar in Allen’s hands, but having problems with the execution would, I think, perhaps be analagous to questioning the execution of the abrupt shift in No Country for Old Men from cat-and-mouse thriller to solemn meditation in its final act even if you applaud the effort. (That said, my position on No Country is very different from that, as that film “worked” for me on the first viewing from beginning to end and then some.) I can see why Craig sees the narration as aiding Allen in making his picture breezy and evanescent, but for me it bogged the narrative down and took me out of the film (the latter of which was doubtless intentional, at least to some extent). I’m looking forward to seeing it again and seeing if all of its parts go down more smoothly.
As I was watching it, I tried to imagine the movie without the narration and I couldn’t do it. It just didn’t work the same way.
As someone for whom it didn’t work that well Alexander (and again, I’m not framing that as a right or wrong issue), what do you think his intentions for it were? It can’t be ascribed to filmmaking laziness because the gap filling he did with it was relatively minor. So many times he was just describing what our eyes could see. As Pierre says, Allen isn’t stupid. He must’ve had a reason and I’m just curious what your thoughts are.
Well, again, I think it was Allen playing around with his narrative, trying to add a layer of “storytelling,” in the traditional sense, viewing the tale from a somewhat omniscient perspective… As I said “up-thread,” I think it comes from a similar place as the Q&A docu-drama sapidity Allen went for in Husbands and Wives. Judging by my own innate response to the respective first-viewings of each of those films, for me, the Husbands and Wives approach instinctively worked and offered greater insights into the characters and situations Allen weaved, while the narration in Vicky Cristina Barcelona failed to contribute much for me…
Allen certainly isn’t stupid in the least, though. And, again, I think most of his newest work is rather well rounded… Though as I said in my own review, I do wonder about Allen’s personal opinion of Scarlet Johansson sometimes.
Ahhh…see if I’d refreshed my memory of the thread I could’ve answered my own question. Sometimes I forget who has said what and when. Maybe I should take notes…
I’m unable to quickly compare one Allen to another simply because I’m inexpert having always enjoyed his work without going crazy for it. I’m thinking of having a little retrospective covering some of his big hits and a few of the ones (like Husbands and Wives) that have slipped through the cracks.
I wish I could remember Husbands and Wives better, but I can’t. But I do feel that in VCB, Allen’s use of the narrative device is novel and nontraditional. But I’m too whacked out from Gov. Palin’s hockey mom jokes to expound further.
I find this genuinely surprising – and I mean that in the most amiable, lighthearted way imaginable.
Craig and Pierre, you two both have wonderful intellects and possess equally impressive, broad based knowledge about film.
Having been exposed to WOODY’S ouevre in its totality (with the exception of CASSANDRA’S DREAM), it’s my opinion that HUSBANDS & WIVES is the best motion picture he ever made.
So your mutual reaction is kind of astonishing to me.
But I’m certainly cognizant of the fact that this is all completely subjective.
And that’s 101…..
Miranda — I’m curious to hear what’s so astonishing to you. Are you surprised that Craig and I like Allen’s films in general?
Every person’s filmmography has holes in it and, as I’ve admitted on these pages before, my biggest and most surprising revolves around Woody Allen. It’s just one of those things and it will soon be corrected.
Oh, no, Pierre.
I was making a direct observation about the fact that you said you can hardly remember H&W – and it sounds like Craig has never seen it. I consider it to be the best thing he’s ever done. So it’s a total 360 between my impression of it and what you two both think.
That’s all.
I adored VCB and I think there are a number of parallels between it and H&W. Maybe even more than I can come up with off the top of my head at this moment in time….
Oh. I’m still a bit confused, Miranda. I do remember liking Husbands and Wives, I just don’t remember details at the moment. As I recall, Judy Davis was nominated for her supporting role — deservedly so. Maybe it’s time for me to refresh my memory and see it again.
So I’m back to the thread that wouldn’t die…
106, y’all…
I just saw VCB for the second time last night and I’d like to contribute some brief musings.
I fell in love with it all over again. I had the same brief blast of ennui going in and the identical thought crossed my mind as before. Am I going to be able to get into this…?
Setting the scene at the outset is a bit bland. But as soon as JAVIER arrives at the girls’ table at the restaurant with his provocative proposal, it gets interesting REAL FAST and then sets the tone for the rest of the action. As it were.
I found the settings, the architecture and the general loveliness of Barcelona enchanting beyond belief. So gorgeous…and the perfect backdrop for these lost romantic souls to be bewitched, bothered and bewildered.
I found my supreme identification with CRISTINA solidified. (I certainly relate to SCARLETT JOHANSSON a great deal in any case.) When she talked openly about not knowing what she wanted but being aware of PRECISELY WHAT SHE DIDN’T WANT…
It’s uncanny. I DID notice that the first time. But those exact same words have been spoken by me OVER AND OVER AGAIN since adolescence. But I had forgotten about her “tragic, romantic, free thinking outlook on life” that was discussed in the VO.
No wonder I adore this.
Though there are a few significant differences between CRISTINA and myself, WOODY has created a character that could be me on any given day. To be able to see into the hearts and minds of twentysomething women with such perception, realism and wisdom when you’re a straight man in your 70s is a significant and rare accomplishment.
Nearly impossible…and WOODY did it with such style and grace.
This time around, I found the narration mercilessly annoying. Yeah, the guy is significantly YOUNGER than WOODY. Perhaps not as young as VICKY and CRISTINA. But still…
For someone omniscient (narrators have that nailed down by the nature of the job, right?), he really did come across as a pompous, annoying fool awash in his own self importance. His tone is quite pretentious.
As Craig and Pierre were saying earlier in the thread, WOODY has plenty of experience in these endeavours. It’s likely that he intended for the narration to expose SOMETHING. Have a specific purpose or point.
I know that many times people have read grandiose things into WOODY’S actions in terms of character motivation or writing and when people have asked him about it (in interviews or at Q&A’s), his answers are generally rather mundane.
But I wonder if he really means it.
Perhaps he thinks that if we don’t get it then there’s no point in an explanation. Or possibly he prefers to be mysterious in some way. Guess we’ll never know for sure.
I also found DOUG a hell of a lot more annoying on this particular journey as well. He’s attractive and he’s NOT a bad person. But I wouldn’t have been able to be in a room with him for two seconds flat.
He is SO relentessly shallow and utterly conventional. He’s the kind of guy that you’d have 2.4 kids with and have sex with on a Saturday night if he’s not too preoccupied with the fluctuations of the market. And that’s ALL YOU’D GET for that particular week, too.
Such a entirely soulless corporate suit. There’s nothing to him.
No thanks, babe.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m a sensualist and sensualists CAN NOT be happy without money and a comfortable lifestyle.
(AT LEAST. However, it’s always good to provide that stuff for yourself regardless. Be independent and whatnot.. Then if someone can bring something else to the party, that’s always fun.)
But there has to be more meaning and actual significance in life THAN THAT.
But a lifestyle and a particular level of upper middle class affluence are ALL that DOUG has to offer VICKY. No wonder she fell for JUAN ANTONIO. Who the hell could blame her????
The ending got to me harder too.
*********MINOR SPOILERS***********
When the girls hit the airport stateside, the looks on their faces were very telling. They seemed absolutely miserable, melancholy, HAUNTED.
I talked at length on other blogs (and at my site) about how I felt about all this. Not that it was a lark or anything. But that I have an acceptance for life just the way it is. No sugar coating that little pill. Just take it and wash it down with something good.
But it is horrificly sad to watch VICKY and CRISTINA come home like that. They had experienced life over there – and they were clearly both devastated.
*********END MINOR SPOILERS**********
But.I was genuinely awestruck by this.
It’s playing at one of my favourite cinemas in town – the 40s movie palace at the edge of the city centre. It will still be in the downtown area for some time but VCB does end there Thursday to make way for (wait for it…) THE WOMEN.
From the sublime to the ridiculous.
MY GOOD GOD…..
So I’ll be going again this coming week. It’s the perfect place to experience it (and believe me…..mood and ambience mean a hell of a lot to me) and I intend to take full advantage of it as the summer comes roaring to a close……….
Glad you saw this a second time Miranda and that you continue to say good things about it. I’m not sure I’d characterize Vicky and Cristina as devastated upon their return, but they certainly register more than flight fatigue.
My sense is that, as a result of the trip, the quality of Vicky’s marriage will improve — for starters, their sex life appears to have an additional spark.
Regarding the narration, your word “pretentious” seem apt. Again, I believe that’s intentional, and for me it serves a purpose that enhances the film.
I (continue to) disagree re: the intentionality of the ‘pretentious’ narration. If there’s one thing that Woody Allen has not been known for, it’s awareness of his own pretentiousness.
Jeff, Miranda was referring to what she characterized as a pretentious tone adopted by the narrator. Are you suggesting that Allen wrote lines for him that were pretentious? If that were the case, then your suggested casting — Waterston or Cox — would have carried a pretentious quality, as well. Or are you suggesting that Allen directed the actor playing the narrator to give his lines a pretentious tone? If that were the case, Allen would have been aware of his “pretentiousness” in order to provide that direction.
Disagree if you will, but arguments that aren’t plausible — arguments that seem molded to serve a predetermined outcome — aren’t effective.
Happy to see this movie continues to inspire conversation, even if it’s in disagreement.
To one degree or another, I found each one of the characters relatable on some level. I’m probably more like Vicky however; someone who’s a litlte too uptight to really know what’s good for her.
I have nothing else to add on the narration. I’m finally at peace with it, but I take issue with Miranda’s take on the tone of the ending. There’s a melancholy for the loss of what could’ve been, but I sense a note of optimism in that perhaps each of the women have grown and changed in some way. There is hope for the future.
Pierre, I’m responding you saying that in your opinion the lines were directed to be read in a pretentious manner, suggesting that Allen did that in order to add a layer of irony to the narrator’s manner – that the lines were written in a deliberately pseudo-pretentious manner and thus directed to be so in the delivery. And my response is that a younger actor is, by definition, going to sound more pretentious than an older, more established/respectable actor. That’s what the word means.
And that Allen’s single greatest flaw throughout his post-Annie Hall career is making pretentious decisions and not recognizing them as such (Interiors stands out as a major example).
Also, your last statement cuts both ways – if the predetermined outcome is ‘everything happens for a deliberate reason’, ditto.
Jeff, here we go again. I did not say that Woody directed his actor to give line readings that were pretentious in nature. Nor did I say that the lines were written in a deliberately pseudo-pretentious manner. Pretentiousness does not denote age — or lack of it.
One of things I’ve been trying to do in this thread is emphasize the value of an openminded approach to film analysis. If I respond strongly to an aspect of a film — whether it’s positive or negative — I feel it’s worthwhile to examine why. What are possible reasons, both within the film and within my own experience, why I’ve reacted that way? Other factors to consider include the quality of the remainder of the film and the expertise of the filmmaker. If I draw a conclusion that has survived the level of first reactions, it may or may not be the same conclusion as before.
I’m also open to alternative views that provide plausible rationale. Even an opposing view may contain insight that deepens my understanding.
Well then, I don’t understand this:
“Regarding the narration, your word “pretentious” seem apt. Again, I believe that’s intentional”
And my point has been, open-mindedness is great, but there’s also such a thing as diminishing returns when travelling down open-mindedness alley.
Jeff, we’re splitting hairs here. The word pretentious didn’t appear in this thread until Miranda characterized her reaction to the narration. That she had this reaction I consider consistent with Woody’s intentions.
What is important to me as one who discusses film in depth is this: Where do my reactions — whether negative or positive — lead me? In the case of an accomplished filmmaker in an otherwise accomplished film, I’m particularly suspicious of strong reactions that close the door to potential, reasonable interpretations.
I don’t disagree, but like I said, there’s such a thing as overthinking something. We wouldn’t be having this conversation about Cassandra’s Dream, a film that was, more or less, exactly as intended by Allen, and more or less, a total misfire.
Jeff — I didn’t see Cassandra’s Dream and therefore can’t comment on it, though it’s no secret that Woody has made some films that are somewhat duddy. VCB, on the other hand, is an accomplished film regardless of what one thinks of the narration.
Although we’ve spent a lot of time discussing the narration of VCB, I don’t feel it’s been overthunk, at least on my end. (In fact, I feel that people in general spend too much time thinking and not enough time allowing or examining their feelings.) Most of my many comments here are an attempt to say basically the same thing in different ways. They reflect, among other things, what I was taught in film and acting classes with world renowned teachers and on the job as an actor, producer and reviewer regarding an open, nonjudgmental approach when exploring such things as character and intention.
My comments have as much to do with one’s approach to film analysis in general as they do with dissecting a particular aspect of a particular film.
So far, I’ve offered an interpretation of VCB “as is” and have provided rationale as to why I think it’s good as is.
You’ve provided an alternative you seem to say would improve the film. I’ve considered your suggestion to recast the narrator in a particular way but so far have been unable to imagine how that would bring about an improvement. All you’ve provided up to this point is justification that the narration, if recast as you indicate, would result in a better aesthetic in and of itself . But you’ve yet to offer an explanation as to how your vision would make a better film. Going outside the film — to Allen’s failures in other films — does nothing to effectively support your arguments.
Along the way, I’ve considered your insights and am pleased to say they helped me better understand the film. (In fact, one of your points/arguments ended up providing support for my view.) That you’ve maintained a presence on this thread — despite my prodding — to me is a good sign of things to come.
Pierre, do you consider it a possibility that Woody’s instincts in this case were simply incorrect? This seems to be one sticking point between you and Jeff on this issue.
I agree that your attitude of approach makes for more stimulating and potentially enlightening thinking, but I’m wondering if you’re taking it as an exercise or as a point of fact that Allen is correct in this case.
It really is a splitting-hairs thing, or perhaps a glass-is-half-full/empty thing. My attitude is that every movie is made up of many, many discrete parts, and the goal of the filmmaker is to unify and harmonize those parts. Most of the time, a filmmaker will consider his or her job to have been successful if a mere majority of the elements (performance, cinematography, music, editing, story, etc.) are in harmony with each other and if a few elements aren’t quite up to snuff, no big deal.
So when a movie like this, which I consider to be good-but-not-great, has most of its constituent parts humming along nicely but a few things that are not quite up to par, it seems best to me to follow Occam’s razor, which in this case means to follow the simplest solution (Woody was almost there but not quite) than something that is, indeed, more playful and interesting but doesn’t offer any satisfaction that I can find (Woody’s choice was revealing of some elusive thematic depth.)
I hope that all makes sense. And Pierre, I don’t really have a ’supportable’ argument because my contention isn’t something quantifiable or suitable to rationalization – my position is simply that the voiceover, as delivered, felt out of tune to me, simple as that – a mistake within the bigger picture of the film. You can try to prove to me that there was some bigger picture reason for it to be as it is, but I can’t prove a negative to you, beyond the gut-level reaction.
Hi Craig!
Yes. In fact, my first consideration was that Woody’s instincts were wrong. My second was to try to ignore it or, at least, to get used to it. As the film progressed, I began to see how the disparate parts might fit together — to actually enhance the effect of the onscreen action and serve the film as a whole.
When others expressed critically negative views of the narration, I could relate. But by then I also felt that it would be too easy to dismiss this aspect of an otherwise accomplished film.
I considered alternatives extending from the negative views of others but couldn’t imagine how changing the narration would’ve improved the film overall. Nor did anyone offer examples — despite my urging — of how altering the narration in any way would’ve improved the film as a whole.
I’m a big believer in listening to first impressions. But I also believe one needs to understand what they represent. A filmmaker of Woody Allen’s stature deserves consideration that extends beyond an initial knee-jerk response.
I’m no expert on classical or Pavlovian conditioning, but I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Allen to engage in such fun.
I don’t understand that last part.
Jeff, I posted my last comment (#119) before I read yours (#118).
There are two reasons, or effects, that I think Allen was trying to achieve by employing narration in marked contrast to the tone of the onscreen action. I’ve discussed them at length above, but essentially they fall into two categories: humor and social mores.
We’ve discussed the humorous possibilities of using narration that doesn’t blend aesthetically or not quite logically with the action.
We’ve also discussed the collision of two different systems of social mores (in simplistic shorthand, American vs. European).
I believe the narration, as used, helps condition viewers to be more receptive to the value in — and less likely to judge disapprovingly — the culturally atypical behaviors portrayed.
A “prettier” (more traditional or predictable) narration might seduce or lull us, keeping our attentions too sharply focused on the level of story. A contrasting narration might “wake up” some of us to the possibilities of new life perspectives, that indeed we do have more choices than we think in deciding who we are and what our human relationships can be — that different societies have different conventions and different ways in which to feel fulfilled and happy — that we don’t need to do things just because they’re expected of us — that we don’t have to think and feel a certain way just because we’ve been told that’s the way it works — that personal and professional success has more than one measure, and so on.
My disappointment comes when I witness a conscious decision to exclude such possibilities in favor of rationale that cite aesthetics while concluding it’s all just a mistake.
Yeah, and I completely agree with you on everything in post 121, except that I think the decision to use such a young (callow) actor in the role of the narrator counteracts some of what seems to be the intention.
We aren’t that far apart on this one, but you’re going to have to remain disappointed because I remain unconvinced on that one fragmentary detail.
Um…WOW.
This is pretty damned extraordinary.
Pierre, two things…
“(In fact, I think that people spend too much time thinking and not enough time examining or allowing their feelings.)”
Here, here.
As a girl who is wildly emotional but a deep thinker nonetheless – and almost equally divided between my head and my heart – I’ll lead with my feelings EVERY DAMN TIME. They seem more authentic and meaningful to me.
Despite what I just said, I find that it’s my heart and my hormones that are usually battling it out for first place. It’s almost inevitable that it will be one or the other. My cerebral side DOESN’T STAND A CHANCE.
I also feel that #121 is particularly insightful and makes the most astonishing sense. That’s what I was actually thinking all along. But I certainly didn’t articulate it in such a fluent fascinating way.
But I’m glad YOU did, Pierre.
As for you, Mr. Kennedy…
Well, obviously you’re an optimist.
In spite of my flights of fancy, perpetual romanticism and extravagant hormonal displays, when you get down to the FINAL layer, I’m a hardcore practical realist.
I didn’t say the girls were gonna kill themselves or anything. They’ve lived and they will certainly learn from their mistakes. But I think VICKY’S marriage is doomed. She may stay in it for decades for all I know. However, I do think it’s living on borrowed time.
I don’t know what’s going to happen with CRISTINA.
But the entire point of the film is that life changes drastically and, even if you end up with what YOU THINK YOU WANT, it will turn out NOT to be what you wanted AT SOME POINT IN TIME.
So even if you stay in that relationship or marriage there is no happy ending or victory. Everything fades or becomes something else. There is no escaping this.
If this had been a different film, then I could give this the benefit of the doubt and concur with you, Craig. But not this time.
WOODY’S entire point is that we are ALL condemned to go on searching, longing, lusting, smoldering or pining away for something we can never possess. Even if it’s only the lovely dream that we imagined our current relationship to be at one point in time.
During a glorious summer day, you can chase a beautiful butterfly ALL OVER the countryside. It’s so gorgeous that you just want a closer look. Need to hold it in your hands. But how can you catch it if it never lands…?
Can’t tell you how disappointed I am that you said you were like VICKY. Ah, well.
But at least she allowed herself to be seduced. Even she knew that she had to let loose a little.
Every now and then….
I just read that Woody got a great deal on a loft in SoHo. Instead of paying his realtor vast sums of money, Woody let the guy’s son do the narration for Vicky Cristina Barcelona.
Just kidding.
Miranda, I’m not saying it was a happy ending, it was certainly cynical, but in an amusing, not altogether unhealthy way.
OK, Craig.
I understand. I gotcha.
Ha ha hah….
Pierre, you may be right. You just never know.
According to the almighty IMDB, the narrator in question is CHRISTOPER EVAN WELCH.
He’s done theatre (THE CRUCIBLE off Broadway), TV (several versions of LAW & ORDER, THE SOPRANOS) and film (THE HOAX, THE GOOD SHEPHERD, THE INTERPRETER).
But hard to believe that he chose this fella unless, as we both think, there was a particular objective that WOODY was striving for. Mr. Welch doesn’t have a great voice. He’s not mellifluous, dulcet toned or even particularly interesting to listen to.
So there must be something else going on…
Hell, I wish WOODY would’ve asked me. I know WOODY’S NOT sexist. But I doubt that he would’ve wanted a young woman to describe the events of that particular story. Would’ve placed a completely different spin on it.
But VO work is likely something that I’m gonna be doing a lot of at some juncture. KATHLEEN TURNER was a huge success back in the day…and her voice was one thing that can be attributed to that.
She and I really sound alike.
So I imagine that that kind of employment may very well pay the rent for a spell…
Voiceover work can be very lucrative, Miranda, but only for a select few. That area is even more competitive than acting. If you can develop a tape with samples of the voice “types” you wish to market, it’s best to ensure that they create a clear — and immediate — impression.
Thanks, Pierre.
I’ll keep that in mind…