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*Disclaimer: As I said in this review, I
was never a huge Woody Allen fan, and that was before I heard about Dylan
Farrow’s allegations against him. I’ve only ever seen a few of his movies, and
this was the only one I ever loved. This isn’t the first time I’ve said this,
but it bears repeating – I hate it when predators taint beautiful and creative
things. I used to love this movie, but Woody Allen wrecked it.*
I saw
this one back when it first came out, at the Heights in Minneapolis – terrific
old theater. Before I saw it, I didn’t
have much of an opinion about Woody Allen one way or another. While I’ve not gone out of my way, I’ve seen
several since then, and this remains my favorite to date. Is that sentimental? Probably, but Allen wasn’t playing fair; this
film is completely up my alley.
Affable,
neurotic Gil (Owen Wilson standing in for Woody) is a self-described Hollywood
hack in love with the Paris of the 1920s.
Back then, the City of Light was the haunt of artists and authors and
American expats living life all the way up.
He’s come to Paris on vacation with his fiancée and her family, and none
of his travel companions can see what he sees.
He’s dismissed as an overly nostalgic fool with no taste, a
stick-in-the-mud stuck in the past.
Soon,
however, other people’s opinions mean very little to Gil. By accident, he stumbles across a certain
street where, every night at midnight, he’s transported to the old Paris of his
dreams. Suddenly, he’s dancing to live Cole Porter and slinging back
drinks with Ernest Hemingway. Night
after night, he returns, and he quickly finds himself head-over-heels for a
beguiling young model.
It’s
not a perfect film by any stretch.
There’s a bit too much wish fulfillment in the ‘20s segments (of course, the likes of Gertrude Stein and
the Fitzgeralds are immediately enamored of this yutz,) and all the present-day,
non-Gil Americans are basically insufferable, every foreign country’s worst
tourism nightmare. I have to say, though
– I really don’t care. The concept is
fantastic, the historic characters and cameos are a delight, and the ‘20s
atmosphere is perfect. I have a weakness
for that period – the jazz, the writing, and my goodness, the dresses! – and this film is just delectable.
Not to
mention packed to the gills with good performances. On the modern-day side of things, Rachel
McAdams does well as Gil’s awful fiancée, and Michael Sheen does one of the
best boorish know-it-alls I’ve ever seen.
Marion Cotillard plays Adriana, Gil’s would-be 1920s love interest, with
a winning effervescence (no surprise there.)
Kathy Bates makes a strong Gertrude Stein, and Adrien Brody is a scream
in his brief turn as Salvador Dali. This
film was my introduction to Tom Hiddleston (great in his small but memorable
role as F. Scott Fitzgerald) and Corey Stoll (his Ernest Hemingway is
pitch-perfect – the highlight of the movie,) for which I’m exceedingly
grateful.
So much
love for this movie. It has its flaws,
sure, but it’s creative, sexy, and fun. Definitely one to watch again and again.
Warnings
Some
sexual content, and tons of drinking and smoking.
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