Midnight in Paris

Written by Jonathan Jacobs

Woody Allen's protagonists are often narcisstic, paranoid, neurotic, but most importantly, they are downright lovable. Only Woody Allen can create vivid fictional characters that are loathsome to their lovers and utterly appealing to audiences. I cannot think of a more perfect cadre of characters than the demure Rachel McAdams, her soon to be husband Michael Sheen, the shining French starlet Marion Cotillard, and my guilty favorite Owen Wilson. Midnight in Paris is Allen's overarching statement on the futility of looking beyond one's time either toward the past or into the future as thought either one will offer a better life and a more satisfying experience. Despite the inadequacy of life, it is meant to be lived and in the now. In order to illustrate this commonplace absurdity of wishing one could live in another epoch, "La Belle Époque" to be more specific, Allen has taken a "perplexing" modern author and transplanted him into the roaring twenties in Paris, and into the 1890s and back again into the present. What a whirlwind of a journey.

It must be nice to hobnob with the likes of Pablo Picasso, Earnest Hemingway, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, Man Ray, Salvador Dali, Henri Matisse and others. Gil Pender's (Owen Wilson) crumbling engagement to Inez (Rachel McAdams) inadvertently generates this opportunity of a lifetime. They are Americans vacationing in Paris to satisfy her hyper-sensisitve and verbally abusive parents (demeaning only to Gil of course). When the cameras begin rolling, Allen takes viewers on a lovely tour of Paris. He seems to have an uber-fascination with la tour Eiffel, I could not help but think this is a silent jab at American tourists that see only the immediate glitz and glamour while ignoring the history and substance of Paris. When we finally get to Gil and Inez it is obvious she feels nothing but contempt for her fiancé, and he is uninspired to break off the engagement. This is where Allen's unique talent at creating conflict (an eternal trouble in paradise mentality) comes in handy.

Gil must not only suffer the future in-laws and their abuse, he also has to contain his desire to retaliate against Inez's former professor buzzing around their vacation like a hungry vulture (or sexual predator, call him what you will metaphorically). Professor Paul Bates (a.k.a. Michael Sheen, the lucky soon to be husband of McAdams) and his girlfriend are visiting Paris as well. Apparently the professor (labeled pedantic in a pejorative sense) has been commissioned to deliver a lecture at le Sorbonne. This sort of notoriety charms the pants of Inez because she is easily duped and has no moral scruples. While she is off gallavanting with the professing prick, Gil wanders the streets of Paris (a man after my own heart) to ponder on his flailing novel. He has courageously made the transition from Hollywood screenwriter to professional novelist, or so he hopes. His novel needs more than tinkering, it needs inspiration. Unfortunately, Gil is reluctant to allow anyone to critique his story, and so begins the heart of Allen's story.

Gil is written into the history books as it were. At midnight upon the sounding of the Parisian bells he is carted off from secluded alleyway steps in a brilliant 1920s automobile. First he meets F. Scott Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston) and his mentally unstable yet genius wife Zelda (Alison Pill). Through them he is introduced to Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll), and so on and so forth. It is Hemingway's famed editor Gertrude Stein (played by Cathy Bates) that inspires Gil to ameliorate his novel. Teemed with his interactions with the greatest American authors and artists of the twentieth century, Gil is able to begin deconstructing and then reconstructing his novel. Before I cease recapping, Gil also manages to fall in love with two women, one from what he originally envisioned as the golden age of history, the 20s, and one from the present who shares his worldviews. When in Hemingway's era, he becomes exhilirated by Adriana (Marion Cotillard, recently seen alongside Leo DiCaprio in Inception). Together they explore the trivialities of daily existence and dance the night away like old-time lovebirds.

Woody Allen's mind never seems to stop churning out buttermilk pancakes with mounds of butter and syrup. Is there are other film director/writer/sometimes actor with as much creativity and knoweldge of literature, film history and the human condition than Woody Allen? I think not friends. Midnight in Paris does something astounding. It makes Owen Wilson less comical and more vivid, and it turns the devourous Rachel McAdams into a loathsome immoral twit. Only in Allen's twisted world of drama could this happen. I recommend this masterpiece to anyone with a taste for literature or more particularly to those in my Jewish family who are curmudegeonly (you know who you are!). This film is worth every penny, and perhaps even more for your thoughts.