![]() Of course, because all of Allen’s women seem to be just begging for a man to break down their self-reliant walls (if they had any to begin with), Vicky succumbs to Juan Antonio, seduced by the gentle picking of a Spanish guitar - she says it “moves” her (yuck). Vicky, still unmoved by Juan Antonio (despite his suaveness), is forced to spend some time with the handsome lug when Cristina succumbs to food poisoning and spends the day sick in bed. (This is as good a time as any to interject, and to explain that we don’t really see any of these sights - VCB isn’t scenic - because each touristy sequence is executed via montage, and explained to us in play-by-play narration that tell us things like “that afternoon, they all went for a walk,” because apparently we can’t see for ourselves that they’re walking). Vicky tags along as Juan Antonio shows the girls around Oviedo, taking them to all sorts of gorgeous locales and architectural wonders located on the island. It’s because she, seemingly, likes the image of being with someone of that caliber, perhaps because she feels there’s no hope for herself. ![]() Apparently, she’s really into intellectual guys, artists, creators, but not because she’s engaged by them in any emotional way. ![]() Once in Oviedo, it’s Cristina, as expected, who first goes after Juan Antonio. Her character is given no nuance she’s just a crazy Spanish nutter, who serves the plot in a contrived and ridiculous way (but we’ll get there in a minute). Here, Cruz is asked to screech obnoxiously - and spout Spanish obscenities at an arriba-arriba-rate - because that’s what Spanish women do, apparently, to Woody’s mind. Take Maria Elena, for instance, a blustery femme - and Juan Antinio’s ex-lover - played by Penelope Cruz, a fine actress who deserved a shower of awards for her voluptuous, sumptuous performance in Pedro Almodovar’s Volver. Or, in some cases, there’s no attempt to transcend stereotypes in the slightest. But the fact is, Allen can’t seem to write a three-dimensional character anymore to save his life, and it hurts the movie badly everyone’s defined by their quirks and eccentricities, and when they try to break free of them, it all feels forced and contrived. Vicky Cristina Barcelona is meant to be Woody’s steamy three-way movie, and all the actors are game. Of course, a third of the title would be wasted without her, so Vicky tags along. Finally, he makes his way over to their table, and - spur-of-the-moment - invites them both to Oviedo on his plane, where they will “drink wine” and “make love.” “Who will make love?”, Vicky queries, to which Juan Antonio confidently replies, “Hopefully the three of us.” Vicky, being the sensible one of the duo, writes the guy off right away - she’s engaged to be married at summer’s end - but Cristina, being the character who Woody’s imbued with an absurd amount of acceptance and curiosity (not to mention insecurity), takes Juan Antonio up on his offer. While taking in the sights and sounds of the city, Cristina also takes in the sight of suave abstract painter Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), who eyes her back. Johansson is Cristina relative newcomer Rebecca Hall plays Vicky and both are on vacation for the summer in Barcelona. Now, she’s called upon to play an absurdly oblivious and dubiously insecure bombshell in his latest movie, Vicky Cristina Barcelona. ![]() Scarlett Johansson seems to be feeling the brunt of this - asked to play a quirky sexpot, who acts and sounds just like Allen in 2006’s Scoop. The chicks in Allen’s flicks no longer come across as real or convincing, or anything more than the approximation of a dithering old mensch who’s clearly lost his mojo. What Woody Allen just doesn’t seem to get anymore - overlooking the fact that his dialog is basically paraphrased versions of the same stuff he fed us back in his heyday, yet not as funny - seems to be women.
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