“Have you seen the new Woody Allen movie?”

“We’re actually on our way right now.”

“Oh, you’ll love it.  Allen’s best in years.  You’ll feel like you’re in Barcelona, great film.”

The empty pitcher of Sangria in front of this lone barfly told me I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but I couldn’t help it.  I had wanted to like the movie since I saw the preview.  Javier Bardem was amazing in No Country for Old Men.  Throw Scarlett Johansson and Penelope Cruz in bed with him, what’s not to look forward to?  

The plot is fairly simple, even if the characters aren’t.  Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Johansson) are on vacation in Barcelona.  There they meet Juan Antonio (Bardem), a charming artist who invites them to his house for a weekend of wine and lovemaking.  Vicky is engaged, but Cristina is adventurous, and the sexual tension rises when Antonio’s estranged and psychotic ex-wife (Cruz) moves in.

First of all, this film about sexual exploration in Spain is rated PG-13.  I’ll take it up with the MPAA, but it’s lame.

Objectively speaking, this isn’t a bad film.  Great performances by the whole cast and a light, carefree tonality made it at least fun to watch.  It’s not a comedy, it’s not a drama; it’s a Woody Allen movie.  The characters are intriguing, the setting is beautiful, and the elements of the film are all simple but solid.

The big problem I had with this film was, I admit, more of a personal issue.  I hate narration.  Fight Club, American Beauty, American History X.  These narrations are integral to the story, the tone, and the plot twists.  However, the majority of narration is, in my opinion, lazy.  I don’t need a movie read to me, I don’t need every scene explained by a guy I never see.  I feel offended that the director thinks I need a translator for his visual creation.

This is why I felt, five minutes into this film, like I’d been lied to.  I expected a whimsical, emotional and character driven film about sex and the self.  Instead, the juxtaposition of the film’s tone and topic with the monotone, scripted narration detracted from whatever attachment I tried to have to the location or the characters. 

Maybe it was an artistic decision, but I guess I just don’t have that much faith in Woody Allen.

If you’re a Woody fan, or just think Scarlett Johansson is really hot, you might enjoy this movie.  As for me?  Mental note: strangers drinking Sangria by the pitcher are not to be trusted.

Final Grade: C+