"Vicky Christina Barcelona": Just One More Flick Before I Reassess Woody Allen
*Blog post was started on July 9, 2021.
And I should say maybe two after the trailer for Ewan McGregor's collaboration with the auteur was shown before this DVD's feature began. "Trainspotting" is my favorite movie. How much resistance do you expect from me?
It seems like a good point to dive into the review or inevitable "need" to see "Allen v. Farrow", but this is a personal blog and I only get two to three minutes to talk about myself before an episode of "NinetyForChill - The Podcast", provided I do not fuck up the recording. This week will have the "Spaceballs" content I have been promising and it will allow me to figure out my worth as a producer.
I still cannot help but feel bad though that it took a multi-time zone podcast to find out my amateur status. And then of course, the guilt I have to deal with when you send a text message to the guest declaring the episode lost. Jessica Kwazz from "Second Chance Movies" has still been liking and sharing my promotional tweets, but I cannot help but worry if I offended a great guest with a text message. If Mitchell Whitt holds a grudge over a Facebook post promoting "Morbidly Macabre", can I be blamed for a wee bit of paranoia over the impersonal nature of text messaging? Of course, Jessica was a great guest, Mitchell...
There are other items to be paranoid about (That is mentioned in the blog post's title.), but we will work towards that. Was life a lot easier before text messaging and leaving comments? Communication probably was since you could gauge what the other person was saying by how they said it. But that requires confidence in terms of speaking. That is something I did not acquire until I entered professional wrestling. And, I have to acknowledge, that was and is perhaps still something I struggle with. Fortunately for me, there have been few times in the past 15 years that I needed to write that well-worded note with a thorough argument to state my position. In other words, dealing with those who can (or at least think) out talk me has not been an issue.
The nickname that my best friend (who is lacking fur) bestowed to me explains how people see me. Harshside screams impersonal. People do not seem to like to hear things as they are without an immediate chance to argue them. They especially dislike the people the people who deliver such messages. It is so much easier for 75 million America to cheer on the guy who loudly and simply tells them to blame the messenger. If only there were more elegant harsh people.
In other words, this country really needs to start focusing on the arts. I know it is Un-American to take a page out of the Old World's playbook, but lets get to the point where we are not encouraging the subpar with sports aspirations are not at the top level come high school. If there is one of the undisputed wrong things my parents did, it was allowing me to keep playing baseball when my arms were designed for softball. It is pretty much known that the lessons gained through speech and acting courses can help you more in the real world than being one with aspirations of bringing football home.
And this would help the professional wrestling business. Those who still like to keep their bodies in peak form (and appreciate a bit of the ultra-violence) will have a robust skill set.
But more importantly, we would have more creators and artists (like the fictional ones in "Vicky Cristina Barcelona"). This means we will have more people to learn from. That means we will not have to "reluctantly" watch features written and directed by Woody Allen as inspiration for brilliant dialogue and characters that the creators seems to know oh so well.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)
Vicky is completing her masters in Catalonian culture after developing a love for the architecture of Gaudi. This should be easy to complete after her aunt and uncle who live in Barcelona invite her to stay the summer at their home. To assure that she will have someone who speaks English, her impulsive and bohemian best friend Cristina is invited as well.
When you compare the two friends, their wants are the complete opposite. Vicky has a well-off fiance back in New York. Her life maybe paint by numbers, but she is happy. Cristina on the other hand wants to express herself but does not know the means and does not know who can love and appreciate her for that. This may change after they are invited by the charismatic Spanish painter Juan Antonio to fly to the island of Oviedo for sight-seeing and passion.
Cristina can not be told no when it comes to an impromptu adventures, so Vicky reluctantly joins her to, in essence, protect her from a strange artist who is best known for the exploits of his fiery and violent marriage to the beautiful Maria Elena. The stories and sites are fun, but Vicky is keeping her distance. Unfortunately, her best friend's ulcer flares up and leaves Juan Antonio to entertain her for the remainder of the weekend. The Spaniard's charms get the best of her, but at best, a possible fling can only last to the end of the summer.
Everything seems to be fine after this weekend, but destiny decides to throw some variables their way. Cristina and Juan Antonio seem content shacking up together, but having failed to make a name for herself in Madrid, a volatile and suicidal Maria Elena returns to stay at their home. Vicky's life receives and upheaval when her fiance decides that they should get married in Barcelona. Our two protagonists have suddenly found themselves stuck in lives revolving around passion. Is this something they will embrace or will they just presume it is too good to be true.
"Vicky Cristina Barcelona" feels like a fish out of water version of "Annie Hall" which I would consider to be a great compliment. The performances are masterful and Allen delivers on dialogue and scenarios. There are mad cap elements that are quite reminiscent of early 70's work while maintaining the yearning for escapism that all of his post-Oscar features center around. This is a Woody Allen film for Woody Allen fans.
With this being a film for his fans, they are the audience that will be comfortable with the same story being told over and over again. The story feels relatable and grounded in reality, so fans, like myself, will find themselves open to all the ideas being expressed. We will also find ourselves accepting that reality eventually shows back up, but it only makes us further enjoy the escape.
If you are not in love with Allen's ability as a wordsmith, after 30 years since his transition to a sense of seriousness, this may come across as pretentious. And I cannot say that those who think that are wrong. Everyone of his features seems like a veil allegory of his life. He changes the scenarios, but they all follow the same formula. For me, as a struggling artist looking for a voice, Scarlett Johansson, Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz tell a story that I love and see myself wanting to be a part of.
Perhaps Rebecca Hall's Vicky is Allen expressing how his detractors yearn for the freedom the artists have instead of security. Allen is telling them they want something different and they will regret not pursuing it. Sadly, with all the questions and hearsay surrounding his life, he may not be in a position to tell us that. Involving cleverly shot sex scenes and gun play are not going to make them look pass his alleged indiscretions and their judgements. I will credit Allen for trying to use those elements in that way. Maybe I will reclaim them in a rewrite for my z-budget, pro-wrestling, zom-com "Main Event of the Dead" (Please send any requests for a script treatment or advice on how to advance the production of this feature to russthebus07@gmail.com.). If you give this feature a chance, you will understand how the art of the deranged mind can greatly influence those who appreciate it.
"Vicky Cristina Barcelona" may have been told tens of times previously by Woody Allen, but his cast and script make this experience a worthwhile one. If we watch reboots by directors who are trying to tell someones else's story, why not watch a re-imagining directly from the source. This indicates that you have to love Allen's scripts and the playfulness that he always brings. Any prejudice towards him or apparent lack of originality may spoil a viewing of this for you.
*Blog post started on December 14, 2020.
This is a fun vampire flick, but it shows the limitations of John Carpenter. His direction seems stretched by the quest elements of the tale and without one of his go to actors in the lead, it loses some of the feeling his classics have. He was best in the mid 80’s leaning in to his regulars. I wish he would be more insistent on doing that. Still, the FUN is there and James Wood is great. On to Bon Jovi taking over the franchise.
Check out my video visceral reactions to "Vampires" at Main Event of the Dead.
I suppose I am stretching out the weekend technically. This was probably watched on Wednesday, but I am in the midst of a 13-day stretch between both jobs, so time is kind of lost on me. "John Carpenter's Vampires" is almost an appropriate place to start as I am trying to use meal replacement shakes for 50% of my meals (I skip breakfast, unless I wake up before the alarm. Wendy's is killing it.). Sucking the blood out of someone felt like a reasonable means of recovering from the lack of sleep that "Cyberpunk 2077" led to.
It did not help when a coworker goes home because they were not feeling well. I work for a big box store, so you know they have COVID-19 protocols for their employees. If you passed the screening for the day, you got to work your shift. The argument can be made that it is flu season so not everything is corona virus. How you can suddenly change symptoms in two hours is my counter to that?
Fuck food poisoning. That is why I skip breakfast. I need to make the proletariat look good.
When my manager asked me to stay an extra hour (We could not get rid of the customers till a half hour after the Semisonic moment.), it seemed like the ill-feeling one was not a full-time employee. This means they did not have any time to use to make up the lost wages. If your lungs have not been overtaken by the pandemic, that really is the only reason to leave a job early. Use the sick time or lose the sick time. I can understand that proposition.
But on the flip side, at my bank job, we have one employee who uses the time that has been allocated to them while the coworker who should get more than six days of paternity leave cannot use his sick time to spend more time with his child and the kid's worn out mom. Should I rant about the corporate structure (Thank the gods that there is not really any right-leaning charities in Champaign. I would be judged for not participating in casual days for charity because of the not-for-profits that dominate the rest of Downstate Illinois [Christian pregnancy support groups, United Way, etc.].), or management at this location for not covering for the most senior banker here:?
If wanting to drain the employee who left with two opening to closing shifts is the only drama I have right now, things are pretty good. There was some hesitation about reviewing two James Woods movies because of the conservative moron he has become (I wanted to see the Democratic Party be destroyed after the Clinton impeachment trial, but I was an 18 year-old Mortonite. With experience, I learned who the bad guys truly are.), but everyone knows that the works of great directors should take precedence over the whom the producer believes will put butts in seats. Maybe this double-feature will let me get over my reservations and buy the Hades from "Hercules" Funko Pop. You cannot have Zeus without the douche.
And that reminds me, we need to bust our asses to get Tiny Lister into the WWE Hall of Fame this year. We must influence WWE programming some how. The WWE video arena must be conquered. Death to the McMahon family's Videodrome. Long with the new flesh.
Videodrome (1983)
Max Renn is one of the three partners who operated Channel 83 in Toronto. Their goal is to provide viewers with something they cannot get from traditional and regulated television stations. They must not be the only content providers with that goal, so when exploitative foreign entertainment seems to be too tame, Renn begins to search for programming that is down right sleazy and horrific. Luckily for them, their satellite technician Harlan is the master of television piracy and has discovered a show out of Pittsburgh called "Videodrome", an arena for torture, exploitation and murder.
Because of the signal scrambling, Channel 83 cannot just go air it. This leads Renn on a mission to find the people behind the show. With every clue he obtains, he starts experiencing violent hallucinations. Most of these involve his sadomasochistic girlfriend, Nikki, who has also made it her mission to "star" on "Videodrome". As he absorbs more of the shows content, the visions of his body becoming a means of distributing the content are the most prevalent.
He can neither make heads or tails of what is real or not. As far as he can tell, someone is manipulating him into becoming an organic VCR who will act on whatever tapes they insert into him. Is Renn a slave to Videodrome or is he the evolutionary link between television and humanity?
"Videodrome" gives you an almost incomprehensible concept and demands that the viewer sense of it. David Cronenberg is such a talented director that the audience wants to put this puzzle together while the violent and sexual themes suggest that they should be examining who they are.
The casting of James Woods is perfect because of his cynical and self-righteous demeanor many of his previous (and most of his latter) works have had. His characters tend to think that he is smarter than everyone, thus he can handle questionable material without being influenced by it. If you want a person who seems amoral, Woods was the go to. Renn starts out as the caricature of Woods and you become enamored with his journey from being amoral to trying to find meaning in a world that is falling apart.
Cronenberg keeps the atmosphere ambiguous enough that it is even hard for the audience to tell what is suppose to be real in this world and what is only in the head of the lead. By the third act, everything that happens has to be accepted as real if you hope to make any sense of it, but you know in the back of the mind, it cannot be.
Geiger body horror is never going to be a real thing. It is something that is so traumatizing, you want to believe that it cannot be real. This is the feeling that makes this film a classic.
If there is any shortcoming, it could be an under-developed supporting cast. Then again, if you add more characters to muddle Renn, the visceral discomfort might be lost. The impact of the body horror would be stretched so thin that the impact of it might be lost. Debbie Harry as Nikki and Jack Creley as video guide Prof. Brian O'Blivion are great avatars to ground Renn's journey without taking the focus away from the insanity.
"Videodrome" still makes viewers question the impact that visual content has on them and consider what the limits should or should not be. It is an expression of a dream that the audience has to be brave enough to indulge. David Cronenberg is happy to take you by the hand and drag you through it, and he rewards you for it. This definitely makes it one of the top horror films of the 80's, and I would not be surprised if Cronenberg dominates that list.
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