What's Love Got to Do with It?

Vicky Cristina Barcelona, like all things related to Spain and love, is intoxicating. The inebriation might be a sort of osmosis phenomenon since the characters have a wine glass in hand for about 85% of the movie. The movie washes over the viewer like the buzz of a fine Rioja, leaving a warm sedated feeling. When I say sedated, I do not mean that the movie is uncomplicated. Ah yes, man never tires of the exploration of love: rational, irrational, passionate, calculated, new, old, loyal, desirous, etc. This movie covers a lot of ground on the map of love, though it’s not entirely clear how much headway it—and its characters—makes.

The actors come together wonderfully, all exactly right for their characters and clearly at ease in their roles. Penelope Cruz, as Maria Elena, swiftly steals the show with her brooding eyes and stunningly delicate features. Her fiery personality is what is truly gripping, particularly when she delivers the movies funniest, and perhaps best, lines. Javier Bardem also scorches the screen as Juan Antonio, the ultimate Don Juan. His asymmetrical features make him both strikingly handsome and almost primitively rugged, depending on the angle. He had me before, “hola.” Cruz’s and Bardem’s sadistic tango is both beautiful and painful to watch, although leaving the theater I’m sure everyone hopes to see them onscreen together again soon.

Where Cruz and Bardem provide the movie will its most vibrant color, Rebecca Hall, as Vicky, brings the movie soul and gravity. Vicky’s evolution over the movie is the meatiest thread of the movie. Hall’s anguish over her old expectations for love and marriage being toppled by one weekend in “stupid Oviedo,” is naïve but not completely crazy. One scene with her fiancé Doug, and the audience hopes she runs for the Catalan hills. We are constantly reminded that “only unfulfilled love can be romantic.” Sure, that sounds poetic at first. Then I realized that it was coming from Woody Allen, and I don’t know whether I’m prepared to take advice from Allen, given his sketchy romantic history. Vicky and Cristina, polar opposites in love and life, offer two alternatives, we can’t help but hope that there’s some happy medium.

The movie does pose one tricky riddle: why is Scarlett Johansson famous? It’s not that she’s unattractive, but I don’t agree that her looks alone can carry her fame—especially since her acting skills are utterly underwhelming. If Penelope Cruz had Johansson’s acting chops, we’d look the other way, but Scarlett is just not good enough to justify her pay grade. She, however, manages to get away with this role, because Cristina is unsophisticated and not an entirely likeable character: “I don’t know what I want. I just know what I don’t want.” That’s a great BS line to get out of any responsibility. The worst part is just how generic Johansson looked compared to Cruz. I cringed; thinking to myself that there must be a better representation of American beauty and youth that Allen could have juxtaposed with Cruz. The great thing about Vicky Cristina Barcelona, however, is that the warm buzz quickly washed away my irritation over Johansson.

The film is a truly vintage romantic comedy. It is made timeless not only by its European setting, but also because the age old question regarding love, and whether you should act with passion or reason, will never stale. Vicky Cristina Barcelona does not want to offer an obvious compromise between the two, but I’m not sure that people want an easy way out, as it would make life far too boring.