Showing posts with label Penelope Cruz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Penelope Cruz. Show all posts

17.3.12

I'll Go To Your Room, But You Are Going To Have To Seduce Me: Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)

I rarely go into Woody Allen films expecting something terrible, at the very worst one of his films will be wrought with existential wit and a swooning jazzy soundtrack.  What is nice with Allen's films are the times when he offers something so much more, as is the case with Annie Hall or Midnight In Paris.  While certainly not as prestigious as either of those films, Allen's 2008 offering Vicky Cristina Barcelona is quite enjoyable.  It is a cinematic vision that takes on new understandings of love and seduction, both in terms of romance and friendship.  However, as is often the case with any film by Allen the narrative delves into something much grander and more concerned with human existence, it is not blatantly obvious nor is it similar to every viewer, but despite the film involving a cast of incredibly attractive actors and being set in Spain it seems so common and accessible that you quickly forget that it was indeed directed by one of art house cinema's most beloved children.  When you place this in Allen's entire body of work it is nice to see him making his way back into Hollywood movies with big budgets, without losing his keen sense of contradicting the traditional images of said films.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona, like so many of Allen's films, is multi-faceted.  However, the main focus of the film is centered on the title characters the reserved Vicky (Rebecca Hall) who idolizes traditional love and conservative romantic values and the wiley Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) who seeks sporadic encounters and assumes romance to be a fleeting occurrence with little few positive outcomes.  Vicky, who is set to be wed to Doug (Chris Messina) an average but likeable guy, agrees to go on vacation with Cristina to Spain for one last celebration as friends before she become married.  It is during this lengthy vacation that the couple meets Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) a local painter who is infamous for his troubled marriage that procured near fatal results.  Not one to mince words, Juan Antonio invites the girls to return with him to his hometown to sight-see and make love. Naturally, Vicky dismisses this offer in disgust, while Cristina swoons over ever one of Juan Antonio's words.  Despite her demands against engaging in affairs with Juan Antonio, Cristina's demands win out and the trio takes a dangerous airplane ride to Juan Antonio's hometown.  At this point in the narrative things become incredibly convoluted as Vicky accidentally falls for Juan Antonio in Cristina's absence.  Realizing her mistake after Doug surprises her with a visit, Vicky detaches herself from Juan Antonio who has now taken a keen liking to Cristina.  As Cristina and Juan Antonio's relationship evolves, another woman enters the picture Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz) Juan Antonio's ex-wife for which he still has strong feelings.  Their relationship evolves into some artistically inspired threesome, while Vicky comes to discover her own love for Doug.  Ultimately, and explosively the film ends with both women finding themselves at the same place as the story began, however, this time they have accepted their ways as just, agreeing that their behaviors, while not suitable for everyone are perfectly acceptable as longs as they work for them.

I can say with certainty that Vicky Cristina Barcelona is Allen's most artistic work.  Sure, he has dabbled in expressionism and surrealism throughout his career, but much to my surprise the melodrama that is Vicky Cristina Barcelona proves to be his most visually appealing.  Perhaps this is because Allen's film is so clearly inspired by Spanish architecture.  As the repeated images of Gaudi's work show, Allen is preoccupied with the unusual structures of the world that still appear to work.  If one reflects on Midnight In Paris is is obvious that he is influenced by the work of French authors in the film, so it is no surprise that Vicky Cristina Barcelona borrows is narrative leanings from Spanish work.  Each character in the film is arguably a reference back to the zany and winding work of Gaudi that still manages to stand without trouble.  Vicky, while the most conservative character in the film, has her own crevices and secrets that would seem to cause her inevitable falter, but despite this she manages to hold to her own steadfastly and independently.  Even Cristina, who appears to flourish off codependency, actually finds herself most fruitful when alone, although she finds out quite quickly that self-motivation is incredibly difficult when attempting to engage in artistic endeavors.  Even Juan Antonio, who appears completely independent, displays twists and bumps that influence his being and despite thinking he has it made when engaged in a polygamist relationship come to understand that his life is solely involved on his own self perseverance.  I would argue that Allen's ability to depict the tough yet resilient natures of human existence, on the backdrop of Guadi's work are precisely what make this his most artistic film to date.  Of course, I could be reading way into the film, but I doubt Allen would mind that at all.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona is quite easily one of the best bluray films I have seen to date.  I would encourage purchasing a copy if you are a fan of Woody Allen films, but at the very least rent the film, it is well worth your time to watch.

30.7.11

The Jealousy of Fascism and Four Sisters: Belle Epoque (1992)

When the Academy Awards choose their winner for Best Foreign Film based on two criteria.  The film has to be unbearably depressing, or relentlessly upbeat and feel-good.  Thankfully, for my sanity during this particular viewing, the 1992 Spanish film Belle Epoque falls into the latter.  It is a film about lust, love and friendship that spans generations, gender and class.  It is also an extremely idealistic film in its portrayals of a war torn Spain that manages to exist harmoniously despite divisive political and religious beliefs.  As I noted in a previous review on All About My Mother, melodrama is a staple of Spanish movies.  It relies on all the elements of the genre, including over acting, emotion inducing music and visual textures that seem at times surreal.  Despite being a rather conventional film, Belle Epoque is humorous, enjoyable, and a great study on the frivolous leanings of young love.

The film begins with a young man named Fernando (Jorge Sanz) avoiding detection after desertion from the Franco Army.  After a close brush with local law enforcement Fernado meets the elderly Manolo (Fernando Gomez) who is belligerently against the war and while literally impotent, sees Fernando as a vision his younger self.  After a night of drinking and talking, Fernando departs from Manolo.  Upon walking to his train for Madrid, Fernando views Manolo's gorgeous daughters arriving.  Infatuated with the four daughters Fernando purposefully misses his train and asks to stay with Manolo.  What occurs next is awkward sexual relationships with three of the four daughters, one who is bisexual, another who is widowed and one who has an off-and-on relationship with the local momma's boy.  The only girl Fernando overlooks is the youngest, and arguably most attractive, of the daughters Luz, played by a young and wide-eyed Penelope Cruz.  Amidst religious divides, underground rebellion and unscheduled visits from world famous flamenco singers, Fernando and Luz end up together at the alter.  In a sweet, yet bitter, closing scene Manolo watches the couple ride off to Madrid realizing he is yet again alone and left merely to exist in his old age.

The film deals with love liberally.  The types of relationships displayed in the film are as broad as they are complex.  Obviously the film deals heavily with sexual love as it relates to Fernando, the sisters and even clergymen.  It depicts physical love, however, as a lower form used primarily for gratification, as opposed to stability or comfort.  The film invests greatly, as it should, in notions of emotional love.  Each of the sisters comes to respect Fernando and love him for his good nature and excellent cooking skills.  They are able to forgive both themselves and him for their sexual encounters, realizing that the fleeting intimacy is far inferior to lifelong bonds of friendship.  Given this, it is easy to understand why Fernando and Luz end up together, she is the only one of the sisters to project this notion of love from the films onset.  While less obvious, the film does play on non-biological familial love.  This is evident in the relationship between Manolo and Fernando, one that Manolo claims to be purely friendship.  However, it is obvious that Manolo seeks to be a father figure to Fernando, particularly in regards to teaching him the world of politics.  In fact, Manolo and Fernando's first night as friends is spent together in Manolo's room, a completely platonic moment that still serves as a reminder of the frail barrier between the emotional and physical realms of relationships.  Belle Epoque posits a fluidity of relationships that can be as simple as loving ones mother, or allowing your wife to knowingly make you a cuckold.

Belle Epoque is a sweet movie and one well worth watching.  I would not go out of my way to purchase it personally, but a rental from Netflix is highly suggested.

9.6.11

I Can Lie Very Well, and I'm Used to Improvising: All About My Mother (1999)

I am a huge fan of Pedro Almódovar.  I particularly enjoy his newer works and their critical focus on contemporary Spanish familial relations.  However, I only began watching his works in the recent years and have yet to make it through much of his older work, All About My Mother being one such film.  All About My Mother is, in many critics' eyes, his masterwork.  From the onset of the movie it is apparent why such opinions exist, the film is perfectly executed and provides the viewer with great acting, breathtaking visuals and more than a fair amount of laughs, not to mention one of the most somber death scenes I have seen in quite some time.  It also reflects all of the elements that cement Almódovar's auteur status: a cast full of sexually ambiguous characters, a vibrant and diverse color pallet and references to both Spanish and world culture.


The film follows the experiences and interactions of Manuela who is searching for her recently deceased son's father Lola...who happens to be a transvestite.  Along the way Manuela meets another transvestite Agrado (known for being agreeable), Sister Rosa (a nun who was also impregnated by Lola, played by Penelope Cruz) and Huma Rojo (an aging actress who as is befitting of her name always wears red).  Along the way Manuela learns to come to grips with her own sexual confusion and also the untimely death of her son.  In the films closing moments she reconciles with Lola, takes on Rosa's baby named Esteban, in honor of Manuela's own lost child and even has an opportunity to rekindle her previous dreams as an actress.

The beauty of this film comes not only in its vibrancy and its open-mindedness, but in that it is complete subversion of traditional melodrama.  Framing itself directly in relation to All About Eve, the film sets up every trope in the melodrama tradition only to break it down shortly after.  Almódovar inserts heavy string music into scenes of raunchy sexual debauchery and even plays on the visual elements of melodrama, taking the image of a train tunnel to not be a metaphor for Manuela's own dark past, but as a return to the vaginal role of mother, given her matriarchal nature to the childish people in her own life.  In fact, at no point does a male character provide a source of guidance.  Rosa's father is senile and easily confused and as mentioned earlier Esteban's father is now a woman, failing to assert his masculinity prior to his/her son's death.  The film is ultimately about motherhood, an idea that is reiterated in Almódovar's closing statement of thanks to all people like his own mother.  It is a far cry from a film about patriarchy, because in the world Almodóvar has created the notion simply does not exist.

If you are unfamiliar with Almódovar, I would recommend visiting Volver first, and then one of his earlier works such as Tie Me Up, Time Me Down or What Have I Done to Deserve This?  If you are versed in these films, but have yet to give this one a shot I cannot urge you more to watch it immediately.