David O'ConnellMidnight in Paris
October 20th 2011 02:10
Woody Allen’s recent forays outside of his home and regular backdrop to his films, New York City, have prompted critics to labels a number of these works his best in years. The overrated Match Point (2005), with an excruciating Scarlett Johansson, couldn’t have been further from the truth, whilst four more subsequent films, such as Scoop (2006) and Cassandra's Dream (2007) have, likewise, failed to ignite. Only Vicky Christina Barcelona (2008) stood out amidst the mediocrity with an exotic love triangle that created genuine sparks.
But now Allen has finally delivered a film worthy of the title, 'His Best Film in Years'. In fact, so infectious, sweet, witty, funny and sly is Midnight in Paris it must surely rank amongst the very best of the director’s career. Owen Wilson, whose name doesn’t readily come to mind as a perfect fit for an Allen film, is a free-spirited but frustrated writer, Gil Pender, visiting Paris with his wife-to-be, Inez (Rachel McAdams). Clinging to wonderful memories of the city of love from his youth, Gil openly pines for a fresh start here, but Inez’s resistance to the idea is crushing.
But then a magical transformation takes place once Gil, disheartened by Inez’s apathy, her insufferable omniscient friend Paul (Michael Sheen), and thoughts of his hack screenwriting job back home, ventures solo into the Parisian night. Upon the stroke of midnight, Gil is able to forget his ordinary, unfulfilled existence, to leave it behind for an alternate version of the city where his creativity is encouraged and nurtured.
Midnight in Paris has an intoxicating effect, from its gorgeous day and night contrasting locales to its tidbits of historical punctuation. The whole effect is of being immersed in a tender and warm appreciation of the city. Indeed, Allen's screenplay overflows with a love of history, art, culture and literature, treating all with a nostalgic fondness that ensures a rich cinematic fantasy. In some ways, Richard Linklater recently pulled off a similar feat in the vibe he created for the superb Me and Orson Welles (2008), likewise constructing a loving approximation of a time and place rich in artistic significance.
For me the whole film could have played out in the midnight realm of Gil‘s late night sojourns. Each scene is brought to vivid life by Wilson’s perfectly judged wide-eyed innocence, and his naïve acceptance of the strange reality enveloping him. Gil is a welcome variation too on the neurotic, self-obsessed protagonists of past Allen films, so often boringly reiterated by the director himself.
Wilson may be the real surprise packet but a brilliant support cast doesn’t do any harm either. Has Allen ever chosen his tiniest roles with a keener eye for how superbly each might contribute to the overall effect? The work of Adrien Brody, Kathy Bates and Marion Cotillard are particularly worthy of mention.
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