Film criticism by Ian Kay.

Posts tagged “woody allen

Big Time Fun: “Midnight in Paris” (2011), dir. Woody Allen

Gil with Scott and Zelda.

When Woody Allen allows his imagination to run free, he makes the most enjoyable movies you’ll see.  For sheer creativity, his new film Midnight in Paris falls into the same bunch as Sweet and Lowdown, Mighty Aphrodite and Zelig. Yet Midnight has a lighthearted romanticism, even a positivity, that is rarely seen in his other films. This is Woody’s best movie since Match Point, and his most fun since Bullets Over Broadway.

Owen Wilson plays Gil, a screenwriter disillusioned with Hollywood, who visits Paris with his fiancee Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her parents.  Gil loves Paris, and is in love with its romantic history of writers and artists, particularly the Lost Generation of the 1920’s. Inez, obviously a bad match for him, thinks Paris is “cheesy”, and prefers to live in Malibu. She likes money and the things it can do, and has no interest in Gil’s desire to write a novel.

As their differences – and Inez’s parents – pull them apart, Gil finds himself wandering the streets of Paris alone each night. But he’s not wandering the Paris of 2010; instead, he paints the town red with the likes of Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Salvador Dali in the 1920’s. At the chime of midnight each night, a 20’s style automobile pulls up and takes Gil to house parties, clubs and bars to hang out with the flappers, drinkers and artists of the era. Woody never declares whether this time travel is supposed to be real or Gil’s imagination, but the charm of the movie calls for such ambiguity.

The theme of the movie is the romantic mindset. Throughout the film, Gil is mocked and belittled for his unrealistic, romantic views of Paris and the era of the 1920’s, which Gil insists was a better time than the present. Not surprisingly for an Allen picture, the antagonists are Paul, a “pedantic pseudo-intellectual”, and Inez’s parents, “right-wing conservative nut jobs”. Both are completely incapable of comprehending Gil’s imagination and romantic feelings. Paul declares that Gil’s longing for the 20’s is a self-defense mechanism “for those who cannot face the troubles of the present”. Inez’s father has Gil followed by a private investigator.

Allen has several self-referencing lines, which feel like they describe his mindset during the writing of the script. Gil, a screenwriter, declares that writing screenplays is easy, but he wants to write “real literature”. He also scolds himself for being too literal, declaring that he needs to be more imaginative. And of course, Woody loves Paris. And the French love him back. The most romantic thing in the film is Woody Allen’s romancing of Paris. Nobody with anything less than a large dose of romanticized affection could make this movie.

The representation of the famous personages of the 1920’s borders on caricature, but in a way that reflects Gil’s opinion of them. If this is Gil’s version of 1920’s Paris, then of course the artists will be the people Gil has pictured them to be, based on their artwork, their biographies and his imagination. Hemingway is gruff and speaks in apocryphal, clipped sentences. Dali is bigger than life and cannot help grandly announcing his name over and over. “I am… Dali! Dali!”

But the most impressive element of the film is Owen Wilson. The whiny numbskull act that sometimes derails his characters is completely absent. His natural voice for comedic timing is dead-on, and the “sad eyes” that Dali observes are a reflection of the defeated tone that Wilson harbors through much of the film. Woody knew he had to cast a lovable… I almost said “loser” here, but that is exactly what he is not. Lovable romantic is more like it, one who marches to his own drummer.  And nobody does that better than Wilson.

As a long time Woody Allen fan, I am extremely and happily surprised at how fun it was to see Midnight in Paris. Whatever caustic thoughts were running through his head over the last few years seems to have taken a back seat while writing this one. And like Mark Twain said,”Write about what you know”. And nobody knows romanticized, wishful thinking more than Woody.


“You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger” (2010), dir. Woody Allen

Adultery. Painfully annoying mothers-in-law. Older men with much younger women. It’s the new Woody Allen movie! Woody’s latest, You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, is a claustrophobic, mildly funny and highly tense dramedy about dissatisfaction and the absurdity of humanity. Or, more precisely, it is about a group of people, too smart for their own good, making bad decisions.

Roy – played enthusiastically and awkwardly by Josh Brolin – is a novelist with writer’s block. He has one successful book, and worries he may not have another one in him. His wife, Sally (Naomi Watts) works in an art gallery, and one day wants to run her own. It is plain from the start that Sally is frustrated with Roy’s floundering, though she expresses support when he needs it. The wedge that pries them apart is two-headed: Sally’s mother, recently divorced, and Dia, a beautiful young woman who moves in to a neighboring apartment.

Gemma Jones plays Sally’ mother, Helena, with a hypnotic air of confusion, intertwined with a strong element of fear. She has been left by her husband so late in life… what will she do? Will she ever find love again? Even in her own despair, she believes her daughter can do better than Roy. She cannot seem to decide whether being alone is worse than being with the wrong man. But surely things need to change.  Helena is the most demonstrative of the characters, displaying open paranoia and grasping at the advice of a psychic for guidance.

Anthony Hopkins plays Helena’s ex-husband, Alfie, the one who runs off with a twenty-something former prostitute. Hopkins develops layers to his character, something he hasn’t done in some time. We see the familiar pompous intellectual who is control of every situation. But then we see the age fearing, pathetic old man running around with a younger crowd that he not only doesn’t control, but also doesn’t understand in the least. He literally gets beaten up for it.

As usual in Woody’s movies, the wife Sally loses patience with her struggling writer husband and develops a crush on her boss. Roy leaves Sally for Dia, who was engaged but breaks it off.  Yet the most interesting parts of the film don’t involve the relationship between Roy and Sally. There is a subplot which could quite possibly have been a much larger part of the film. Roy has a friend who is also a novelist, and has written a wonderful new book. The thing is, nobody but Roy has read the manuscript, and his friend dies in a car accident. Roy then submits his friend’s work as his own. I won’t spoil that part of the movie by revealing how it ends up, but this subplot brings a spark of thrill to an otherwise fairly dense little film.

The other breath of life comes from Alfie’s story. The prostitute Charmaine is portrayed by Lucy Punch with a happily surprising amount of introspection. Subtle facial expressions and tones of voice fleck her otherwise formulaic bimbo. There is an emotional confrontation in the last scene between Alfie and Charmaine that is the best in the film. For a few minutes, neither character is a caricature; both reveal the person they had, until then, been hiding.

Gemma Jones’s Helena could be considered in some ways the central character of the movie. She is the one that connects them all, and she is also very different than the rest. In her depression she has discovered a belief; a hope that a view of the future is possible, that communication with the dead is an option. In other words, that there is a power that can end fear. Everyone else tries to grasp at an earthly ideal, the perfect man, the perfect woman, professional success, youth. Helena shakes all of this aside and is, in some ways, the happiest of all at the close of the film. Perhaps Woody is making a comment on religion, or perhaps he is simply laughing at how we all struggle for the unobtainable.  Whatever it is, the film has a heavy sense of foreboding underlying all of the quick banter. The characters feel it and so do we.