Dir. Woody Allen, Spain/ USA, 2011, 94 mins, in English plus some French and Spanish with subtitles
Cast: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cotillard
Review by Carol Allen
To enjoy to the full this charming fantasy about nostalgia for a past,which probably never was all it was cracked up to be, it probably helps if you’re a little bit in love with Paris. Judging from the long opening sequence with its Allen trademark style jazz soundtrack, which is an indulgent but gorgeous visual poem to the beauties of that city, Woody Allen obviously is and so is his hero, Gil (Wilson).
Gil is a disenchanted hack Hollywood screenwriter, who is on vacation in what turns out to be this truly magical city with his materialistic fiancée (McAdams) and her ghastly parents. While they breathlessly take in the shopping opportunities and mindlessly tour the tourist hot spots with know it all, pseudo intellectual Paul (a wickedly funny performance from Michael Sheen), Gil hankers for the glories of Paris in the twenties, when now famous names such as Picasso, Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein argued and partied with each other. Then one night at midnight, as he stands at a quiet crossroads, an old fashioned looking car stops and a couple in twenties costume invite him to accompany them to a party. Except the couple are from that very past he hankers after and Gil finds himself transported back to the Lost Generation era by none other than Scott and Zelda (Tom Hiddleston and Alison Pill), who introduce him to such literary luminaries as Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates) – she offers to read the novel about nostalgia he is working on in an effort to revive his dreams of youthful literary glory – and Hemingway (Corey Stoll), while playing the piano in the background of their conversation is none other than Cole Porter (Yves Heck). He also meets and is attracted to Adriana (Cotillard), current mistress of Picasso (Marcial Di Fonzo Bo). She too is disenchanted with her present Paris and nostalgic for a past she never knew. In her case it’s the Belle Époque era of the 1890s.
As Gil continues to take his nightly journeys back into the past, there is plenty of opportunity for cultural jokes and references, with a host of famous and lesser known faces playing celebrities from the past, including Adrian Brody as Salvador Dali and David Lowe as T.S. Eliot (“Prufock is my mantra”, exclaims Gil when meeting him). But Gil’s enthusiasm and delight at meeting his heroes in their own environment steers the film well clear of the self conscious pedantry of the awful Paul. The much publicized contribution from France’s first lady Carla Bruni incidentally is limited to a small and ironic role as a tourist guide in the present.
Wilson, who is often landed with rather crass movie roles, gives one of the most delightful performances of his career and McAdams is appropriately annoying as a particular type of American tourist “doing” Europe through blinkered eyes. The film has a light, satirical and slightly self mocking touch combined with genuine affection for its characters, an air of Gallic charm as seen through American eyes and is totally beguiling.
[cinemabase tt1605783 video_player]
