Getting out of Manhattan has done Woody a whole world of good. Matchpoint, set across the pond in a very unmerry old England, was a surprisingly focused, dismal work reaffirming that Allen still had his chops. His latest film, set in the eternally spry, golden hue of Barcelona, is even more of a cobweb-clearing sweep to the mausoleum Woody was rapidly sealing himself in. It’s amazing what a simple change of scenery can do.

This is precisely what Vicky Cristina Barcelona is all about: two credulous American girls, Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlet Johannson), taking a holiday abroad in hopes of finding something, anything that can inspire them. What finds them is a sultry Catalan painter, Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), and his tempestuous ex-wife, Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz), who fascinate and repulse our heroines along with us as an audience. They embody everything our American culture is not and will never be, with their gutturally instinctive, art-loving bohemian way of life, free of the moral hang-ups that always paralyze Allen’s characters. It’s impossible not to fall in love with Bardem and Cruz like Vicky and Cristina do, especially when situated in a Woody Allen movie. They’re everything his characters ever wanted to be, yet couldn’t due to a lack of courage. Simply put, the screen presence of Spain’s two most current (and yes, also talented) actors is what makes Vicky Cristina Barcelona so damn good.

But don’t get me wrong. Everything that makes a Woody Allen movie a Woody Allen movie is still here, namely pretentious socialites nowhere near the worth of their own useless knowledge who do the exact opposite of their self-assured and frequently proclaimed morale (the same thing ultimately goes for our Spaniards, too). And of course, Allen’s own signature neuroses still serve as the backbone of the story. Where his recent films depart (the murder mystery/comedy Scoop and the somber Cassandra’s Dream included) is with the inclusion of the Foreigner in the Allen canon, but from a decidedly American viewpoint that proves both insightful and stereotypical in that double-edged sword sort of way so characteristic of Allen’s films. With Vicky Cristina Barcelona, one gets the sense Woody finally let out a sigh and took a European vacation, yet couldn’t keep from making a movie in between his seaside piña coladas. This filmgoer hopes he has every intention of extending his holiday.

This review originally appeared in DenverProjectionBooth.blogspot.com in August 2008.