Film of the week: Vicky Cristina Barcelona (12A)

Damon Smith • Published 19 Feb 2009 12:00 1 Comment

The Spanish sun evidently proved a tonic for Woody Allen.

After a sojourn to London to make three very different and equally disappointing films (Match Point, Scoop, Cassandra's Dream), the writer-director heads to sunnier climes for this romantic comedy about two friends whose lives are turned upside down by the same passionate hombre.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona is not vintage fare from the bespectacled New York filmmaker, but this picture postcard is a long overdue step in the right direction, with obvious financial backing from the Spanish tourist board, which accounts for the flattering shots of the Catalan capital and its architectural splendours.

Antoni Gaudi's most famous buildings and the Picasso Museum contrast beautifully with the city's bohemian and gothic quarters.

It's a far cry from the drab, concrete vision of London, which emerged from Allen's residency on these shores.

Flighty and single Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) and soon-to-be-married Vicky (Rebecca Hall) head to Barcelona for the summer.

Taking in the sights of the city, the young women catch the eye of artist Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), who is the talk of the town because, as a local explains, "he had that fiery relationship with that beautiful woman who was nuts." Cristina falls under Juan Antonio's powerful spell and they embark on an affair, only for crazy ex-wife, Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz), to reappear and stir up dormant desires.

A love triangle becomes a rhombus when Juan Antonio casts admiring glances at Vicky and she questions the depth of her feelings for her workaholic fiance, Doug (Chris Messina).

Vicky Cristina Barcelona is a jaunty holiday romance that really catches fire when Oscar nominee Cruz slinks into shot, bringing a fiery, damaged quality to her sassy senora.

"You take beautiful photographs," Maria Elena tells Cristina sweetly as she massages Juan Antonio's neck.

"How do you know I take pictures?" asks the American nervously.

"Because I went through your luggage," replies the ex-wife without a flicker of shame. "I wanted to know who was really sharing the bed of my ex-husband."

The film reaches its dramatic and comic crescendo as Cruz takes her character to the brink of emotional breakdown.

Sexual heat with Bardem overpowers any chemistry between the actor and Johansson and Hall, the latter adopting the neuroses and insecurities usually reserved for Allen himself.

An omnipresent voiceover could have been excised entirely, as could a subplot, mirroring the central romantic dilemmas.

"I'm quite delighted with the way things turned out," Vicky tells Juan Antonio towards the end of the film, as she explains where her heart lies.

We're delighted too. Allen is back on form.

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This article appeared in Reading Chronicle 19 Feb 09

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