Painting with broad strokes

Rating: 8/10 (18 October 2008)

Many have referred to the recent career of American auteur Woody Allen as his 'European vacation', having departed his beloved New York to begin experimenting with different narratives and cultural observations overseas. It would seem Vicky Cristina Barcelona proves the end of Allen's 'vacation' (his next film marks a return to New York) and as such, Allen seems determined to make the most of his last departure from tradition, toying with narrative, character and thematic development. The resulting film as such feels slightly piecemeal, but hardly in a negative sense, as Vicky Cristina Barcelona merely brims with the impulsive exploring one would expect at the end of a vacation, and the impulsive sense of artistic whimsy is one difficult to resist.
While once again abstaining from his traditional New York locations (this time transposing his pallet from England to Spain) and trademark neurotic humour, Allen demonstrates a welcome return to his acute knack for dissecting and observing human behaviour. Exploring a myriad of sexual habits and practices as well as his usual meditations on the nature and quality of love, the potentially redundant and overdone source material is given a fresh and fascinating spin in the hands of the veteran storyteller. But given his past credentials, it is interesting to see Allen experimenting with a different cinematic voice, albeit one which is still easily recognizable as his. Despite his complex and profound subject matter, Allen's sparse and rather matter of fact script feels almost overly simplistic, the bulk of the character development and contextual grounding of the plot performed in concise, clipped sound bites - rather than the viewer inferring Johansson's character to be neurotic and afraid of commitment, we are simply informed that she is as such, a tendency which comes across as rather jarring at first.
However, Allen's shrewdly cunning scripting makes such a narrative voice clear to be a deliberate choice rather than simply poor writing, as if tiding the viewer by with blunt surface description while leaving the inherent subtleties left to be discovered by the viewer. The comparison can be made to Bardem's painter character, as it seems Allen has simply chosen to paint with broad strokes, his deceptively simplistic overtones masking a far more complicated and fascinating underbelly left mainly to the viewer to discover through what is not said, rather than what is.
Nonetheless, not all of the film's potential problems can be explained away as deliberate artistic decisions quite as easily, particularly an ill-advised omnipresent narration, which starts off giving the impression of being sharp and satirical, but becomes quickly overused, after which it abruptly disappears for almost the rest of the film. This tendency to tell not show makes Allen's film feel remarkably un-cinematic at times, with the narration seeming a lazy and complacent way of quickening the story rather than letting it unfold, undermining an otherwise refreshingly unique and fascinating narrative. Similarly, the overuse of certain musical motifs becomes frustratingly repetitive, although the beautiful Spanish architecture and locations are captured with an excellent touristic flourish, sweeping the viewer up in the heady luxury of a Spanish holiday as the protagonists themselves.
Despite excellent past work as Allen's latest female muse, Scarlett Johansson appears somewhat wasted here, her usual spunky exuberance and sultry charisma appearing oddly stunted. Paradoxically, her character, who in theory should have been the most interesting (the struggling artist attempting to find her niche in life and love, while welcoming experimentation along the way) disappointingly proves one of the more poorly written, and although Johansson does her best, infusing her character with an appropriate degree of teasingly seductive charm, it is a shame her character was not explored more fully. The true breakout star of the picture is Rebecca Hall, last seen as Christian Bale's wife in magician thriller The Prestige. Hall shines as a more typical Allen leading lady, mastering the neurotic self-guessing, pragmatism and guilt-inducing impulsive spells of her character with a particular down to earth yet bubbly style all her own - an entirely credible and hugely enjoyable performance.
Javier Bardem is perfectly cast as the suavely overconfident artist just as determined to drink in the pleasures of life as he is cynically convinced of its worthlessness, his comic deadpan and extravagant screen presence making him a perfect foil for both leading ladies. However, it is the entrance of Penelope Cruz halfway through the film when the plot really picks up speed, her suicidal, fiercely proud yet chaotically unpredictable artist and ex-wife of Bardem's character proving a sublime catalyst for the other major characters to play off of. It is impossible to imagine a more fitting performance than Cruz's for the role, her ferocious, borderline psychotic energy proving alternately hilarious and terrifying. Patricia Clarkson also gives a typically strong performance as the family friend of Vicky's putting the two women up for the summer, and Kevin Dunn is a suitably distant presence as her absent husband.
Few movies provide such an odd mishmash of quietly whimsical storytelling touches, but there is no question that Allen's Vicky Cristina Barcelona adds up to an altogether pleasant experience. With appealingly complex undertones discernible beyond the deceptively simple exterior and peppered with an array of terrific performances, while the film may be somewhat of a departure of form for Allen, it is a welcome return to his intelligent introspection and quality of old, and one without question worth a watch.
-7.5/10