The world in Woody Allen’s latest film, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, is stained with wine and splattered with whimsical passion—but like a beautiful painting, its seductive aesthetics put it at risk of being written off as nothing more than a decorative diversion.
The film, his second since 2005’s Match Point, portrays an idealized Spain as experienced by two fresh-faced American tourists pulled head first into a summer filled with typical expatriate fare—lots of sex, food, and art. Scarlett Johansson takes on the role of Cristina, an art aficionada in constant search of the perfect romance. Rebecca Hall portrays Vicky, her no-nonsense, engaged friend. Both of them are seduced by Juan Antonio, played by Javier Bardem, a Spanish painter with a slightly psychotic yet charmingly clever ex-wife. A fourth, faceless character is the film’s narrator, whose bland, straightforward sentences are a contrast to the exotic backdrop and hint that there may be more to the film than the beauty that meets the eye.
Somewhat predictably, Cristina is the first character to find herself entrenched in an atypical affair in Spain. She becomes part of a live-in love triangle with both Juan Antonio and his ex-wife, played by Penelope Cruz. Vicky, on the other hand, spends one night with Juan Antonio, and obsesses over it throughout the rest of the summer. The experiences each has with Bardem’s modern rendition of Don Juan give the audience false hopes for a transformation of some sort. After all, Cristina is perpetually unsatisfied with life, while Vicky is stuck in a loveless engagement.
Appearances aside, this movie is not meant to be a predictable romantic comedy—rather a commentary on the obstinate nature of human folly. Allen incorporates into the script two stereotypes that students typically associate with a summer abroad—his characters drink and have sex, but they also spend time exploring their inner selves. In the end, though, neither of them are brave enough to reflect on their experiences, and the characters undergo very little growth over the course of the film.
It seems, from the contrast created between the direct narration and the turbulent scenes, that Woody Allen is practically laughing at his characters’ very human inability to change their habits. Vicky, who at the start of the movie is swathed in pretentious satisfaction with her fiancé, does not realize, despite her night with Juan, that something is inherently wrong with her original relationship. In fact, at the first sign of emotional intensity, she flees from her affair with him back into the arms of her polo-wearing, Blackberry-touting, aloof fiancé. Cristina, who enters the movie as someone entirely unsure of what she wants from life, exits in much the same way. While the film offers critical viewers a delicious chance to ponder their decisions, it will leave little to nibble on for those who wish only to be entertained.
