The reviews have been mostly favorable for Woody Allen’s latest, “Vicky Cristina Barecelona,” and I’m not sure why. Not offensive — not anything, really. More later.
(later)
Actually, why revisit this trifle? It was basically a masturbatory fantasy by the director: “Gee, I’d love to discuss art and have threesomes with Penelope Cruz and Scarlett Johnasson.”
It’s sad, really. I was turned on to movies by “Zelig,” Allen’s greatly under-appreciated 1983 mockumentary. I’m a fan of so many of his films, though there’s been little worth recommending since “Sweet and Lowdown.”
It’s like watching a fortysomething Willie Mays trip over himself in center field for the Mets, or a chubby Muhammad Ali lose decisively to Berbick. I’m not saying Allen needs to retire; I just wish he’d stop tarnishing his resume with slight vanities like “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.”
