Woody Allen continues his new millennium tour of Europe
with a jaunt to Rome in his latest comedy, To
Rome with Love. Perhaps after churning out a movie a year like clockwork
for the last 30 odd years, Woody finally tired of New York City as a setting
for contemporary stories of relationships and intellectualism. Though the
backdrop has shifted recently from London to Barcelona to Paris and now the
Eternal City, the signature wit has remained. It hasn’t always worked well but
I’m glad that he put out one more fine film in Midnight in Paris before the inevitable end of Woody. To Rome with Love is a bit of a letdown
after last year’s wonderful fantasy.
Woody ties together four separate vignettes that have
loose thematic links. Perhaps not coincidentally, Midnight in Paris could almost fit in as a fifth vignette. I wonder
if he had several ideas mulling around all centering on the price of fantasy
and fame and chose the best one to develop into a full length feature while the
other four were relegated to glorified short film status and plopped together
in To Rome with Love.
Although the four vignettes are intercut with one another,
seemingly playing out concurrently, there is no crossover from one to the
other. No characters from one story appear in any other. Allen’s choice of
structure creates a bit of confusion as one story must take place through the
course of a single day while others are spread over several days or even weeks.
By cutting between the four I was often left scratching my head as to how and
if the stories were connected and I felt a sense of temporal flux by the lack
of a cohesive timeline.
Allen makes his first screen appearance since Scoop in 2006 as Jerry, the father of a
young woman living in Rome. He travels with his wife (Judy Davis, making her
first appearance in a Woody Allen film since 1997). Their daughter Hayley
(Alison Pill) is dating Michelangelo (Flavio Parenti). Allen knows how to paint
characters with broad strokes and Michelangelo is no exception. He is the
epitome of a young European socialist who loves to make off the cuff remarks
about the plight of the working man and the inherent goodness of labor unions.
Jerry has little patience for it and the two butt heads, especially on the
subject of Michelangelo’s father Giancarlo (Fabio Armiliato). Giancarlo turns
out to have a spectacular voice for opera, a talent that is sort of hilariously
only possibly to display while showering (this has something to do with the
combination of warm water and soap). Jerry, an opera producer, sees great
opportunity to stage a rather unorthodox production of Pagliacci. This makes for one of the most absurdly funny scenarios
in a Woody Allen movie since he played a character who accidentally becomes the
dictator of a fake Latin American country.
In one of the other three vignettes there’s Roberto
Benigni as an ordinary working man who is suddenly and inexplicably thrust into
the spotlight one morning with reporters crowding around his house begging to
know how he likes his toast and what his shaving technique. It’s a transparent
commentary on fleeting celebrity and the perils of the 24 hour news cycle and
the public’s obsession with people who are famous for being famous. I kept
thinking of the vapidity of people’s interest in the likes of Paris Hilton and
the Kardashians and the way magazines report on their every move as if it’s of
any value. After several days of exposure under the microscope, he wants the
madness to stop. But then when the reporters are interested in someone else he
finds he misses the attention. Such is the psyche of many a celebrity who
enjoyed a little more than 15 minutes.
The third features a young newlywed couple moving to Rome
to start a new life and a series of mishaps has the young bride (Alessandra
Mastronardi) lost in the confusing streets of the city while her husband
(Alessandro Tiberi), in a classic bedroom farce scenario has to pass off a prostitute
(Penélope Cruz) to some relatives as his new wife. The fourth has the greatest
potential to have been developed further, but is constrained by the film’s
structure. It has Alec Baldwin as an architect on holiday with his wife and
another couple. He gets to reminiscing about his youth when he spent a semester
studying in Rome. A walk through his old neighborhood has him encounter his
younger alter-ego (Jesse Eisenberg) to whom he attempts to dispense the advice
he never got, but could have used in the past. Greta Gerwig plays Eisenberg’s
girlfriend and Ellen Page her best friend come to visit and attract his
wandering eye. Page’s character is full of it, according to Baldwin, who
continually advises Eisenberg not to give up what he has with Gerwig for the
momentary pleasure of being with someone who’s a self-involved con-artist.
The connections between the four stories are tenuous
enough that it feels like Allen just threw together several half-formed story
ideas he’d been working on. Fame is a thematic element in both the Allen and
Benigni stories and is a background presence in the Baldwin one. The main
unifying theme is that of fulfilling a fantasy: spending a day with a sexy
seductress; becoming an instant celebrity; becoming an overnight opera star
(but really that story is Allen’s character’s fantasy of producing a visionary
opera); meeting your younger self to steer him in the right direction.
But even if the four stories had an obvious overarching
connecting thread and if the film weren’t confusingly edited, it would still
contain laughs that are few and far between. This is not classic Woody Allen a
la Annie Hall or even his last
effort. This is lazy, puts out a film every year for the sake of tradition
Woody Allen. It’s a middling success, not even bad enough to trash completely,
but lacking in true creative vision.
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