In Vicky Christina Barcelona, Woody Allen paints a love-addled portrait of two young American women, the straight-laced Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and the free-spirited Christina (Scarlett Johansson).  Their dreamy Spanish holiday is blown open by the introduction of local artist Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) and his mildly psychotic ex-wife Maria Elena, played by the pitch perfect Penelope Cruz (who did more than enough to warrant her Best Supporting Actress gong at the Oscars, even though she only appears in about a third of the film).

It all kicks off when Juan Antonio invites the girls to Oviedo, his hometown, for some no strings attached Latin love-making.  True to character, Vicky scoffs while Christina pants, and soon enough, lo and behold, a love-triangle emerges.  But, alas!  A mere love triangle is clearly not enough for Allen (who himself married his step-daughter).  Cue the introduction of Maria Elena, who forms the not so common love-square.  And this is where things get interesting.

I’ll stop there before I spoil the plot, but guys out there will probably want to know that there is a rather sultry scene between Cruz and Johansson that will be sure to fill up cinemas with a quota of men above and beyond that of your average romantic comedy.

Bardem successfully oozes new life into the stereotypical Latin lover with his charming, compelling approach to Juan Antonio that makes it difficult to believe that this is the same man who recently played the bowl-cut sporting maniac Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men.  British up-and-comer Rebecca Hall is equally convincing as the slightly neurotic Christina, torn between the easy existence promised by her disgustingly dull fiancé Doug (Chris Messina) and a yearning for something more magical in life ie. Juan Antonio.

Johansson is more or less the same nymph-like character that she is in most films, but this works just fine, especially when played alongside Cruz’s vibrant portrayal of Maria Elena, which reinvigorates the film in much the same vein that Harrison Ford once did with Han Solo in Star Wars.

The hectic pace of the film, which is constantly pushed along by the witty dialogue and driving narration by someone who isn’t Allen but may as well be, makes it a bit of a whirlwind adventure as we follow the two girls through their encounters with Spanish stereotypes such as long-haired guitar wielding lotharios, Gaudi architecture and Miro artworks.  Don’t worry though, Vicky Christina fails to fall into the dreary locale pitfalls of the terrible English based Match Point, with Spain providing a much more visceral surroundings for Allen’s musings on love and temptation.

Essentially, on one level Vicky Christina Barcelona is pure escapism.  It is a lusciously warm comedy set in the luminous Spain of our dreams, which might lead one to believe that Allen has replaced his trademark neurotic cynicism with, dare I say it, some sort of old-age romanticism.  Yet, we must remember that it wasn’t all that long ago that Allen stated that cynicism is merely an alternative spelling of reality.

With that in mind, Vicky Christina can be viewed as a thoroughly more complex entity.  The two young Americans that grace the title of the film are really just the tools that Allen uses in order to examine the inner struggle between the wistful joy of travel, lust and freedom, and that yearning sense of dreary reality that drags one back into a life haunted by the fear of regret.  Should we settle for what we have, or seek something more.

That said, Vicky Christina doesn’t have to be anything more than an entertaining rom-com, but there really is something in it for just about everyone.  While it might not live up to the magic of Annie Hall, it is none other than a return to form, a perfectly cast and brilliantly witty film that shows a refreshed and liberated Woody Allen back to his best.

8.5/10

Ben Cohen