Love Art Threesomes and Absolutely No Commas

One rather sarcastic movie goer commented to a friend: “Vicky Cristina Barcelona — why are there no commas? I do not know.” Although the film as a whole was slightly better than mediocre — but not quite up to par — the title is certainly justifiable, and representative of the movie’s most distinctive characteristics.
Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) play best friends who fall in love with the same local Spanish artist, a sensual and spontaneous character named Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem). Propelled by unexplainable passion, each woman embarks on a romantic journey with the artist.
The strange circumstances under which the whirlwind romances occur is arguably the “commaless” component of the movie and is perhaps why the title is so incredibly fitting — the romances are haphazard and inherently connected by the girl’s prior friendship with each other. Neither the characters nor the audience has time to stop and catch their breath between pairs of lovers, so why should a title ask us to stop and breathe between words?
The most creative and compelling component of the script was the interweaving themes of — and parallels drawn between — art and love. Each character has an associated artistic medium. In fact, Vicky’s romance with Juan Antonio is catalyzed by a whimsical night of Spanish guitar, which affects her so profoundly she is shaken from her pragmatist core and changed into a woman who can acknowledge the presence of passion within her. Although this juxtaposition of guitar with romance initially made me nervous — since the ideas of love and music are so commonly related — Woody Allen succeeded in delivering the idea as a fresh concept. The film did not suffer from any loss in artistic value vis-à-vis the Latin-lovers-and-Spanish-guitar cliché. Ultimately, maybe the best part of the movie was this very fascinating parallel between love and art.
But that’s not to discount the passionate performance of Penelope Cruz as Juan Antonio’s ex-wife, Maria Elena, whom he is incapable of entirely removing from his life. Through her presence, Woody Allen creates a “threesome” of lovers that is insane enough to make sense. Maria Elena and Juan Antonio seem destined to be together, save the absence of a certain ingredient — the same way a painting could be a masterpiece if it had just one other thing — and in the tapestry of this convoluted romance, the missing color is Cristina.
The movie is clever in its incorporation of threesomes. Maria Elena, Juan Antonio, Cristina. Vicky Cristina Barcelona. It will leave you pondering whether or not the conventional twosome is really how it’s supposed to be. Our world is easily defined in pairs, but perhaps sometimes it is just a little bit more complicated than we think.
However fresh and fascinating though, the film was not without its flaws. Probably in an attempt to reduce production costs and shorten the length of the movie, an omniscient narrator occasionally speaks over scenes to provide the audience with character insight.
The beauty of cinema is that an audienc should be able to understand characters by watching their responses to different situations, not through explicitly stating, for example, that the character “felt moved by the music.” In a medium where visuals are the most crucial component, the audience should be shown subtlety through speech, body language and character interactions. A blatant narration is appropriate in very few circumstances. Ultimately, it a distraction that did nothing to enhance the movie.
My other complaint is the casting. Call me crazy, but I think a man who is supposed to be the love interest (nay, deep obsession) of three separate women, should be a hunky heartthrob. Sadly Javier Bardem was not caliente — more luke-warm than anything else. Maybe I was just so perturbed by his disappointing score on the hunk scale that I held an inherent bias against his acting, but I simply wasn’t impressed in that department more generally: Both Bardem’s and Johansson’s performances were incredibly lackluster. Johansson seemed to be a deer-in-headlights, and there were points at which it seemed she did not really understand her own character. Overall, she failed to hold her own against Penelope Cruz’s fiery spirit. (Cruz’s performance will make you wish that you were as absolutely insane as the beautiful Maria Elena.)
All in all, the movie is undoubtedly entertaining and moves at a good clip; you will not be bored. It’s script creates excellent material for discussion, so ladies, if you want to witness a romance (or several) that are more twisted than your own, it will provide great fodder for post-movie lady talk at Starbucks.
And, well, if you want your boyfriend to go, just tell him he gets to watch Scarlet Johansson and Penelope Cruz lock in a passionate embrace. But let the morally-sound beware, or you might get talked into a threesome yourself.