Midnight in Paris (2011)

Impression: I would say on average, I enjoy Woody Allen movies. But, some more than others. He has a formula, which he has now been repeating for most of his 50 movie, but he often manages to pull out something new and fresh, and enjoyable, and that’s impressive. I liked this one more than most of his films in recent memory.  The soundtrack is fabulous, and reminiscent of the one to Sweet and Low Down, which I also liked very much. This time, Owen Wilson as Gil is the stand in for Woody himself, the neurotic writer, around whom the action centers. Although the movie is only 6 years old, it feels like a throwback to some happier times, when you could joke about Tea Party Republicans with much less bitterness because they were not actually running the whole country. Owen Wilson is like a caricature of himself, as a confused guy in a permanent pout, but very entertaining. His girlfriend is also a caricature of a self-obsessed, materialistic airhead (except that she hangs on every word her friend Paul – who is a self-proclaimed expert on everything- says). Other than she is very good looking, it is never quite explained how the two would ever have made it to a second date, let alone gotten engaged. But none of this made the film any less enjoyable for me. I loved the magic realism, and time travel aspects of it, and the nerdy run ins with artists from the 1920s, from the Fitzgeralds to Cole Porter to Bunuel and Hemingway. The plot involves Gil finding a portal to the 1920’s Paris every night at midnight, an era which he idolizes and is writing a novel about. He drinks, discusses, and dances with his idols all night long, but then wakes up in the present. Adrien Brody as Dalí is the best thing I have seen onscreen in years. I don’t think I love any actor as much as I love Adrien Brody. He is to acting what Eugene Hutz is to rock stars! The costumes and the backdrops are beautiful, the writing is sharp and witty, and the movie is very entertaining.

Facts: A successful Hollywood writer dreams of making ‘real art’ and on a visit to Paris finds a portal to the roaring 20’s which he visits nightly to hang out with his artistic idols.

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