Movie Review Monday #9: Midnight in Paris

I have previously only seen two Woody Allen films: Hollywood Ending (which my mom and I watched during a trip to New York purely to escape the heat so I don't remember anything about it except that it was air conditioned) and Melinda and Melinda (which I saw in Spain and all I remember was that it had Spanish subtitles and I liked it). So I didn't have a deep knowledge of his style or anything, nor did I go in expecting to either love or loathe the film. I feel like people who have seen a lot of Woody Allen films automatically know whether they'll enjoy new ones or not. 


Anyway, we went to Midnight in Paris last week. Observations:
1. Paris is beautiful. Yes, this is an obvious statement to most of you, but for some reason I never grasped it. Even though my husband can talk for weeks about a few days that he spent there, I still didn't comprehend the draw of it. The cinematography in this film gave me a glimmer of understanding though. 
2. I am an uncultured dolt when it comes to 1920s painters, writers, filmmakers, and musicians. I think I would have enjoyed the film a little more if I'd taken a class on the Artists of the Roaring 20s. With my current base of knowledge, I understood some of the Ernest Hemingway humor, I knew who the Fitzgeralds were, I recognized Dali, and I vaguely recalled Cole Porter. That left a slew of characters that were flatter to me than Allen probably intended. 
3. Rachel McAdams is capable of being not adorable. Who knew?
4. Owen Wilson completely held my attention. I don't think he's the best actor of ever, but he does entertain. Other Owen faves: Bottle Rocket, The Royal Tenenbaums, and, of course, Zoolander. (I'd probably also enjoy him in Marley and Me, but I refuse to watch that. I was inconsolable for a solid two hours after Turner and Hooch, so now I avoid sad dog movies at all costs.)
5. For me, the film's message was to focus on the present when creating art, which was encouraging. Like Owen Wilson's character, I sometimes look at past authors and think there's no way I could recreate such incredible works. But here's the thing about art (and in my case, art is literature): It shouldn't be recreated - it should be created. Which means there is always an opportunity for new greatness. There can always be a new golden age of artistry. Not to say we shouldn't be inspired by past artists - just that we shouldn't feel belittled by them.


I have left out several tidbits of information about this film on purpose. There's a delightful mystery about it which I hope you experience yourself. I recommend watching it at home with the encyclopedia open in front of you so you can learn as you go. Not necessary, but I know I would have enjoyed that.

Two claws up, Lobsters!