Unbelievable b***sh*t

Rating: Null/10 (21 December 2008)

Let's begin with: I've seen every single movie of Woody Allen's several times, so I do know what to compare the latest one with. And I love his classics, "Annie Hall", "Hannah and her sisters", "Crimes and Misdemeanors" and what have you. So I really loved the world of Mr. Allen, the topics he dealt with and many of the characters he created in the past.
But since the last few of his pictures I get the slight impression that Woody Allen is trying to be someone he isn't and never will be. He was great at making films such as the aforementioned but he always failed when he tried to be Bergman or Hitchcock. Recently - I presume due to his constant successes in Europe - he has turned to doing ultimately more "European"-style films. After two (supposedly) British films, he tries to bring us a Spanish-flavored movie, dealing with (as usual *yawn*) the topics of people in search of relationships, the meaning of life in general and art in particular, and - especially - the question of how to express one's feelings in art, depending on if one has talent (or even genius) or none. (And of course we know from ten thousand films in history that artists are troubled personalities. *yawn again*)
Now this one is full of clichés, in fact if one were to give an annual prize to the film containing the most clichés and one-dimensional characters (I would suggest calling it the "Imitation of Life"-award), then "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" would beyond any doubt be the winner in 2008. It is barely unbelievable how many unrealistic, silly, and stupid clichés that one would expect only in a cheap novel appear in this picture. The story is silly beyond belief, it even requires an off-screen narrator (truly a badge of bad screen writing as one has to tell the audience things which one isn't able or willing to convey with more elegant - visual - means: basically missing everything what real film-making should be about...) to keep all parts together, the characters are so lifeless that even the good acting by Bardem or Cruz are wasted, and Catalonian life - of course - consists mainly of constant guitar music, the architecture of Gaudí and the pleasure of good food, sex and wine...
All that is so unbelievably superficial that one could imagine it having been conceived by a Harold Robbins-style writer. (As a mere example: sure, any painter would have a friend owning a private jet and would be able to fly it; and obviously, all characters are wealthy past compare and never have to deal with any day to day worries.)
Which brings me to the last point of criticism: Woody Allen's universe has always been one-dimensional to a certain degree. His characters have always only been inhabitants of the limited cosmos of Mr. Allen; you find artists, writers, filmmakers and actors and the likes. Unfortunately, the world in which I live also includes engineers, scientists, tax inspectors, waitresses, car mechanics, cab drivers etc. And their everyday life is quite different, yet most interesting and rewarding as well.
So, basically I think this anaemic world view of Mr. Allen's has ultimately lost its charms. What remains are merely clichés, clichés, and clichés. And they are getting worse and worse from film to film.