There is something a little uncomfortable about watching Woody Allen films. You are essentially watching an old man vicariously living his lothario fantasies- in this case through Javier Bardem. Of course, in recent years, it has also been uncomfortable watching the slow and seemingly irreversible decline of an important figure in modern cinema. And this film shows that there is life in the old dog yet. This isn't a comeback of Mickey Rourke proportions- his lows were never as low as Mickey got and this isn't a career-best as Mickey's Randy 'The Ram' Robinson is- but if Mickey wasn't about, this would be the comeback of the year.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona develops an intriguing story at its own pace, it is confidently crafted and the use of a narrator to tie together the various scenes allowing the scenes themselves to develop characters with no necessity to move the story along necessarily is inspired.
In addition to this, Allen has a high-powered cast and elicits first-rate performances all-round- with Bardem being the pick ahead, slightly, of Cruz. All too often with a number of name players the movie is unbalanced by their demands for more screen time, better lines and the hostility that results is clear for all to see on screen. Credit to Woody Allen for what shines through the screen as a genuine ensemble piece. A word too for the soundtrack, which breathes life into the whole piece and is as good as I've heard since Jonny Greenwood's minimal masterpiece for 'There Will Be Blood'. The repeated use of the longing 'Barcelona' by Giulia y los Tellarini is beautifully judged.
What stops this being absolutely vintage Allen is that it is less affecting at the finale than the likes of 'Annie Hall' and 'Manhattan'. Nonetheless, it is wonderful in its own right- 7/10.
