Bohemian Cinema By Jonathan Pacheco

“Vicky Cristina Barcelona” (2008)

Directed by Woody Allen

Satisfaction:Thrilled Tags: Comedy, Romance, Woody Allen

Ahh, the Spain of my dreams: passionate artists, tragic poets, beautiful countryside homes, and couples fighting in the streets. I can’t tell you whether or not this is an accurate depiction, but it’s nevertheless where we find ourselves as Vicky Cristina Barcelona opens, emphasizing a couple of young, smiling, wide-eyed American girls hopping off a plane and into a cab.

This seems to be the Barcelona for Cristina (Scarlett Johansson), whose pretentious disdain for conventions calls for a more Romantic-era open-minded look at life. But are her beliefs real? Several characters call BS on the young girl’s self-publicized philosophy. Like Cristina, the majority of Americans pride themselves in being free-thinking, but when confronted with core-shaking experiences, you can count on a heavy percentage of them being full of empty threats. She comes across as all talk while Vicky (Rebecca Hall) is all business, her visit to Spain more educational than experiential. These two opposites are confronted by the same force: a charming, eccentric, and very forward painter, Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem).

Deconstructing Cristy

After sputtering a few times at the start—Rebecca Hall’s acting was rough and a few conversations ran long—the movie finds a certain groove, and really picks it up when Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz) enters the picture. Her chemistry with everyone, especially Bardem, is a huge source of energy, as if they were all running on batteries and suddenly, the charger is plugged in. She’s a belligerent foil, transforming every scene with her among the film’s best. Of particular enjoyment are those of her and Bardem bickering, where we can see a bit of Woody Allen in Juan Antonio as he hopelessly repeats to Maria Elena that she must speak English in his home. I’m reminded of any time that one of Woody’s characters would try to assert himself as a dominant male to a woman who obviously has control over him. He can repeat all he wants, but no one’s buying this show of authority.

Cristina struggles to keep an open mind when she’s approached with the idea of Maria Elena sleeping with Juan Antonio, who until now has been Cristina’s lover. Since the beginning of the film, it’s been obvious that Juan Antonio is still and always will be in love with Maria Elena. They seemed meant for each other but something was missing—they just never knew what. Maria Elena believes that something is Cristina. She likens the American girl to a tint that, when added to a painting, changes the whole dynamic of the picture. But I see her as mere glue that holds the two lovers together. Her presence soothes both Spaniards to the point where they can finally love each other without all the other stuff getting in the way. Cristina initially takes this all as a compliment, and the complicated relationship even encourages her to grow as her own person in her ideas and her pursuit of photography. But it’s ultimately not what she wants, and I suspect the real reason is that she was always going to just be the glue; she never felt like anything more than a third wheel.

The Narrator—Mr. Obvious or a Little Bit More?

A very basic, elementary, and redundant voice over narration covers the film. With almost no exception, the very descriptions and situations presented to us by the narrator can be gathered from the images they are spoken over. It didn’t kill the movie for me, but taking out this redundancy would have made the film that much stronger.

But it does add a certain style that brings some interesting implications. The narrator’s pristine White American speak definitively grounds the film in a comfortable American arena. This, a film almost exclusively set in Spain. What the narration does is bring me back to a “safe zone,” much like the “safe zone” the protagonists revert to. A certain clash of cultures is subsequently created, which I find interesting. Had the movie ended a different way, or had it been from a slightly different perspective, it could have been narrated by a Spaniard—perhaps Juan Antonio. But I now see the voice of the narrator as a very specific choice. He’s clearly from “home,” telling me that this chapter in the lives of these two American girls is only a brief one. They’re coming back.

What We’re Capable Of

Vicky’s story is a little less exotic, but it fits with the picture. There’s something in the Barcelona air that takes a rational woman and methodically fills her with thoughts that she never knew could formulate (plus it makes her have wilder sex, as her husband finds out). It’s an interesting dynamic to have Cristina’s storyline focus on the relationship she’s having with Juan Antonio and Vicky’s focus on the possibility of a relationship with the same man. Her life back home is going to be filled with children, a successful and safe husband, and probably a summer home in the Hamptons, but…what if? Some of the best moments in Barcelona were those oh-so-decisive but small moments for Vicky.

The Spaniard begs her to come spend just an afternoon with him so that she can see what they could be together. Fighting temptation, Vicky honors her morals. But there’s a moment, after hanging up on Juan Antonio, where she walks to her husband, who asks, “Who was that?” “My language teacher,” she answers, and the choice has been made. It was a decision in her eyes, a decision to do something that she fears, a decision that could and will bring so much pain. But she makes it. She makes it with her heart pounding, a cold chill washing over her body. This isn’t the type of choice she would make, this is what they do in stories and movies. Yet she did do it—so what else, what more—is she capable of?

I think that’s what Vicky Cristina Barcelona is really about: the fear of what you are willing to compromise. These woman think they know who they are, and one summer in Spain sends them back to New York with their heads spinning and their tails between their legs. The very real possibility of a three-way relationship pushes Cristina to wonder who she really is, and sadly, she convinces herself she’s someone she’s not. With Vicky, she’s dead-set on who she is: a secure, wealthy, intelligent New York wife. But it’s not until a night of passion with Juan Antonio that she begins to question her entire future. When Juan presents her with the opportunity to become a part of his exotic lifestyle, Vicky timidly dips her toes into the water, until Maria Elena shows up in a craze, firing a pistol, calling to mind the opening scene of Deconstructing Harry. This is Juan’s lifestyle; you ready for it Vicky?

But who cares what I think? Buy Vicky Cristina Barcelona from Amazon and give Bohemian Cinema a little kickback. Proceeds go to feeding and providing more movies for aspiring film bloggers in the Pacheco household.