Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Manhattan, with its dramatic black and white images of iconic New York landmarks complete with a Gershwin score, was Woody Allen's love letter to the Big Apple. In press reports he's said that he wanted to do the same thing for Barcelona, and if the golden-tinged cinematography, Gaudi architecture, and Spanish guitar don't resonate quite as deeply, it's probably because the city is an icon that is a little less familiar to America. But that doesn't mean it's not a success.

Initially, I had my doubts about where the film was headed. The voice-over narration, placed sporadically throughout, struck me as unnecessary, and some of the dialogue sounded a bit unnatural: it was articulate but not really conversational. Eventually though, the film seemed to find its rhythm, and turned into an intriguing yet breezy reflection on love and desire.

As always, Woody and casting director Juliet Taylor assemble a strong ensemble. Rebecca Hall (as Vicky) and Scarlett Johansson (as Cristina) compliment each other nicely and are a near perfect contrast in temperament. Cristina is attractive, impulsive, and a romantic, whereas Vicky is elegant but pragmatic. Yet Vicky's development is one of the chief strengths of the film.

There is also the Spanish half of the equation. Javier Bardem, fresh off his dark turn in No Country For Old Men, effortlessly portrays Juan Antonio, an artist and a natural charmer. His ex-wife, Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz), is a passionate though unstable artist seemingly adept at every artistic discipline. Her fiery presence in the film's second half is sure to generate a lot of Oscar buzz.

Somehow, these two American tourists get tangled up emotionally and physically with this Spanish couple, and though their escapades reveal Woody's deeply pragmatic (some would say pessimistic) views on desire, it stops well short of being any sort of morality play. While it carries some of the familiar Allen trademarks (affluent lovers, highbrow interests, urbane locales) it is fresh and lively, having a decidedly European tone, even for Woody. Roger Ebert has, I rightly believe, compared it to some of the works of French director Eric Rohmer.

Ebert also wonders if maybe we've taken Woody Allen for granted. Perhaps we have. This film is just another in a long line of remarkably consistent efforts. It may be under appreciated even by Allen fans who feel this film suffers by comparison to Annie Hall or Crimes & Misdemeanors. But I wonder that if years from now we'll look back and say, maybe with some surprise, "Hey, remember Vicky Cristina Barcelona? You know, that was a really beautiful movie!"