To Rome with Love ***

Director: Woody Allen

Cast: Alec Baldwin, Alessandro Tiberi, Alison Pill, Ellen Page

Fabio Armiliato, Flavio Parenti, Greta Gerwig, Jesse Eisenberg

Judy Davis, Penélope Cruz, Roberto Benigni, Woody Allen

When watching the newest Woody Allen movie, it's almost impossible not to bring up familiar issues; the most prominent of all being, of course, how Woody always brings up the same issues. However with each passing film, it becomes more obvious that even if his themes become repetitive, they are never dull and a so-so Woody Allen film is still leagues ahead of anything else being done.

Take To Rome with Love for example; after the delight that was Midnight in Paris, it seems almost "mediocre" in comparison to the pure joy exuded by the previous one and the deftness with which it wove different eras and stories. Yet the truth is that in each European city, Woody has made a movie that reflects the city's personality through his own neuroses. 

Time and time again, he has exclaimed that his movies aren't autobiographical, and it would be easier to believe him, if he hadn't created a persona we have come to assume is the real Woody Allen.

In Rome, he plays Jerry, a retired musical director, married to a psychoanalyst (played with extreme gusto by the oh-so-ever-fabulous Judy Davis). Jerry is recently retired and according to his wife, equates this with being dead, therefore he sets his hopes in his daughter's (Pill) future father-in-law (Armiliato) a mortician who also happens to have an extraordinary voice.

Obsessed with turning this man into a star, in the process regaining back "life", Jerry dares to stage a version of Pagliacci that defies all good taste and after the critics speak unfavorably, his daughter goes "he's been called worse".

This fighting spirit, which acknowledges how Jerry didn't manage to please critics, might as well be meant to represent Allen's career. For all we know, what if the time-travel concept of Midnight in Paris had been deemed ridiculous? Or what if the ghostly themes in Scoop had been universally praised?

What we come to understand is that he isn't as obsessed with the result as he is with the creative process and that might very well be the unifying theme of the movie; how people are in a constant search of creation.

Besides Jerry's story, we have three other plots that make up the film: there's newlyweds Antonio (Tiberi) and Milly (Mastronardi) who get caught up in a misadventure borrowed from Fellini's The White Sheik and involves movie stars and prostitutes (played by Luca Albanese and Cruz respectively). We also meet John (Baldwin) a famous architect who becomes the voice of the conscience to the young Jack (Eisenberg) as he struggles between staying with his girlfried (Gerwig) or going after her free-spirited friend Monica (Page). Finally there's Leopoldo (Benigni in an unusually restrained performance) an everyman who one day wakes up to realize he's become famous.

All of these stories are told effectively and all seem to represent something that Woody might've wanted to explore further (perhaps on a feature length?) and the film's biggest flaw might be precisely that it wants to cover too much.

The forced finale of the John/Jack story for example (which echoes of the brilliant Vicky Cristina Barcelona) make it seem as if it's the resolution what matters the most and not the fact that we are never told if John is the older version of Jack, or if he's just a "friendly" manifestation of his subconscious or perhaps some playful spirit. Nuances like the Bergman-ian fact that Jack and John are practically the same name, get lost in the tangle of overwritten dialogues and awkwardness from Eisenberg and Page who never fully bloom as truly sexual creatures. 

Then there's the delicious ode to home as seen in the newlywed story, which might not be linked to any other plot (none of the stories ever cross paths) but shares a theme with Leopoldo and his sudden overdose of fame. Allen is a wry observant and lets us know he's aware of how all the Kardashians of the world are occupying spots that once were allotted to people who earned their notoriety on positive terms. 

The movie as a whole, despite its golden cinematography and constant reminders of the city's beauty, can't help but be tinged with bittersweetness, something Allen must've gotten from Fellini's La Dolce Vita, which also made us wonder about the price we pay for fame and reinventing our humdrum lives. 

While Fellini's masterpiece had almost nothing pleasant to say about our society and even declared at one point, everyone would give their backs to purity in the name of hedonism, Allen's take is meeker and shall we say humbler? He is aware of the destruction and chaos, but he makes us look at Rome, with its gorgeous ruins and timeless architecture, and asks us if this isn't worth trying a little harder for.

Midnight in Paris ****

Director: Woody Allen

Cast: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Adrien Brody

Alison PillCarla Bruni-Sarkozy, Corey Stoll, Kathy Bates

Kurt Fuller, Léa Seydoux, Marion Cotillard

Mimi Kennedy, Tom Hiddleston

From its opening scene, Midnight in Paris establishes itself as a love song: we see how a series of shots of the city comprise a verse that thrills us because of its familiarity (ooh it's Notre Dame! ooh it's Place Vendome!) and despite its otherworldly beauty.

Paris is one of those cities that becomes universal because of the feelings they inspire even if you have never visited them. Tons of films have been set in Paris, tons of romances have been set there as well and to those less inclined by emotions, the French capital has also been the stage for some of the most revolutionary cultural movements in the world.

It makes absolute sense then, that Woody Allen would fall head over heels for it. Not since Manhattan had he shown such passion for a place as he does in this film. Structured like his iconic ode to New York City, Midnight in Paris is formed by a bookend in which we first develop the crush, a large plot development in which we suffer through the ups and downs of love and a final thought that reminds us, not only of our insignificance but about the immortality of beauty.

Throughout the film, Allen, aided by cinematographer Darius Khondji's breathtaking framing, reminds us that Paris will remain even after we're gone.

Take for example the scene in which we meet Gil Pender (Wilson), our protagonist. We hear him talking to his fiancee Inez (McAdams) about the beauty and romanticism of Paris but we can not see either of them. What we see instead is a huge pond filled with fragile water lilies. For a moment, we're not even sure if we're watching a painting or an actual real life image, Then Gil mentions something about Monet and our mind clicks, but so does the camera and we move to find ourselves in front of the people we're about to meet.

In several other scenes throughout the movie, first we see places and things and only then do the characters enter the scene. The camera is sometimes placed before them, as if suggesting the characters need to catch up with time - and wondering if they ever will be able to do it - and sometimes it seems to wander about trying to take in the riches of a city that's too overwhelming for a films's running time.

The subject of catching up with time might be the plot's biggest preoccupation, as Gil finds himself yearning to live in a different place as his writer's block increases. After working as a Hollywood hired hand- and being quite successful at it- he's trying out a novel for the first time. His trip to Paris is meant to inspire him but all he gets are insults from Inez and her parents (the pitch perfect Kennedy and Fuller).

Things get worse when they run into Paul (Sheen) and Carol (Arianda), two friends of Inez who tag along everywhere they go. He's a pseudo-intellectual who knows it all on the surface, she's the loving companion who nods at his every word.

Allen never has any problem revealing to us that the world that surrounds Gil (who in this film is the "Woody Allen character") is truly atrocious. As he usually does, he has no problem affirming that this is a misunderstood man, perhaps a bit too sensitive to be surrounded by the shrewd beings he knows. Allen has never been good at hiding his disdain for bourgeois apathy and while his characters are never exactly saints of any kind, he has always excelled at making us like them.

Gil for example seems to breathe by inertia, we're meant to dislike Inez (the things she says often make you gasp) but we're not supposed to be rooting for Gil just yet. He needs to earn our liking, he needs to achieve a breakthrough.

Woody provides him this opportunity by relying on a fantastical twist that resembles what he did in his brilliant The Purple Rose of Cairo, as in that occasion, everything happens so fast that we're unable to try and reason. Anyone who cared to deconstruct either movie by ways of physics and probability could probably accuse of them of being truly preposterous. During one scene Inez's mother describes a movie she saw as "infantile" and lacking in any believable qualities, but she doesn't deny it had charm (is she talking about the movie she's in?).

However Allen becomes the ultimate alchemist, turning the dullness of the quotidian into magic that defies the most complicated visual effects. Midnight in Paris gives him an opportunity to bask in his love for the Lost Generation and all things 20s, giving us glimpses of a city where you could run into characters the likes of Hemingway (a phenomenal, scene stealing Stoll), F. Scott Fitzgerald (Hiddleston) and Gertrude Stein (Bates) among others.

Leading us in this tour of a golden era is Marion Cotillard, playing the woman who captures Gil's heart. To reveal the many twists and turns in the movie would be to rob the audience of what can only be called utter pleasure. In the past Allen has expressed his love for classic things, however this might be the first time when he seems to find his voice through others.

While sometimes it might seem like a film meant for culture snobs (and what Allen movie isn't?) Midnight in Paris is also remarkable for its unaware passion for the arts. When Gil says to a character "you take art groupie to a whole new level" he might as well be talking about Allen and the movie.

It's no coincidence that the film seems to be based on the theory that places of great antiquity and history are forever plagued with the ghosts of those who once lived there. At many times during the film there are mentions of the main character in Gil's novel; a young man who owns a nostalgia shop, the places where you can buy old records and Shirley Temple memorabilia.

For some this is an enchanting concept (Cotillard's character is "hooked" by it) while others find it creepy and childish. "Nostalgia is denial" says Paul condescendingly, while Gil looks away finding himself in a place far away from judgment.

The movie toys with the possibility of transporting yourself to a time where everything can be perfect and Allen approaches his everlasting obsession with mortality in a way that makes the heart ache and puts a smile on your face.

We realize eventually that Allen is the shop vendor mentioned so much, he's the one always selling us nostalgia, whether it be his use of music, artistic references or the affected way in which his characters talk (the use of words like "pseudo-intellectual", "lovely" and "erotic" usually give his screenplays away).

Midnight in Paris can be read through countless layers, the magic of its ensemble alone is enough to warrant an essay but like the greatest art what's easiest to discuss, perhaps because it inspires excited, clumsy eloquence, is the feeling that it leaves you with: something that resembles the warmth of a good meal and the exhilarating joy of being in love.

After his last movie which failed to invite us into its dark world, in this one a character reminds Gil that a writer can not succumb to despair, his duty is to find an antidote to the emptiness of existence. Woody Allen seems to have taken this advice and Midnight in Paris is the kind of movie that reminds us that heaven might be a plane ride away.