I just saw this down at the old Coconut Grove movie theater, and then returned home to listen to tango music, drink red wine and eat quiche with my mother and talk about how much we missed Spain, how beautiful the houses, gardens and cities were, how great the dialogue, how riveting each developing scene.
An excellent movie, not only due to the beauty of the principal actresses, which in and of itself would have kept my eyes glued to the screen, but due to the elegance with which the plot developed, the twists and turns, the conflicts and crisis. I don’t know as much about Woody Allen movies as perhaps I should, but my mother who is infinitely more familiar with them said that at times the character of Cristina seemed to channel him perfectly, and that it was a great addition to his oeuvre.
The movie is about love, about love in its many guises, and our search to understand not only ourselves but the kind of love that we wish to have in our lives. Security versus passion, the safe versus the impossible gamble, satisfaction against the insatiable yearning to see what is just around the corner. In an almost Shakespearean interchange of roles, interests, passions and desire, the cast of VCB seek and find and lose and then pull away from that which they think they want. It’s reassuring for all of us who haven’t yet found that which satisfies, which answers all our questions, and perhaps indicates that there are no easy answers out there for anyone.
The only things that I came away certain of was that Rebecca Hall is gorgeous, that life in Barcelona seems rife with good food, good company, and beautiful environs, and that Woody Allen knows how to tell a tale of the heart in all its complexities and perplexities.