Considering that I could not even

Get the title right, in yesterday's fauxluxe post -- the film is called To Rome with Love, not From Rome with Love -- that should give you some idea of my expectations going in to the movie.

And, I got just about what I expected.

One of the most disconcerting things about Woody's Tour Through Great European Cities, is the fact that his films are way too long now.  Just as you could always count on seeing those elegant Windsor EF light condensed typeface white on black title sequences, could you also count on Woody getting you out of the theater in about an hour and a half.  Not any more.

Woody's signature typeface.

To Rome with Love certainly could have used an edit job.  So, could have Midnight in Paris, to be honest, which I like less and less every day, the further I get away from it.  There are four stories in this movie, and only two of them are really worth exploring:  the newlywed story, starring Penelope Cruz, and the Jesse Eisenberg/Alec Baldwin/Ellen Page/Greta Gerwig love triangle story.  


The newlywed story is a tip of the cap to dozens of Italian filmmakers, telling the old familiar yarn that outside experience for both partners can bring the "true" lovers closer together.  Even Tinto Brass has been exclusively ploughing this field for decades now.  


(By the way, I love how my own Wife is now scooping this blog, writing about Ms Cruz on another platform yesterday.  Thanks, dear.)


The Wife is absolutely correct, though.  Ms Cruz is a crackling hot "perfect" version of feminine beauty.  And, there were moments when I was not paying attention to the subtitles, either, preferring to admire Ms Cruz taking off her shoes and lay supine on a hotel bed.  

Ms Cruz is five foot six.

The love triangle story, though very funny, and insightful at times, ended very limply, indeed. Our heroes never really seemed to be in any serious danger, and the confrontation scene is never played, at all, due to the fact that a deus ex machina whisks Ellen Page back stateside, making it all a "very close call" in the end, and no one gets hurt.  


That ain't what Manhattan is like.  Or Annie Hall.  Or Hannah and Her Sisters.  Or Crimes and Misdemeanors.  


(I am flipping watching Crimes and Misdemeanors today.  That is a gripping dangerous love triangle story, two of them.)


I had a good time.  It was my first time at the Orinda Theater, which was really cool.  There was a decent sized house.  We were the youngest people there, and we sat closest to the screen.  The older folks sat way at the back and clearly enjoyed the film, laughing uproariously throughout.  


After Renee and I saw Moonrise Kingdom at the Metreon, we talked about the film.  Renee liked it, but admitted that she was probably "over" Wes Anderson now.  Of course, I adore Moonrise Kingdom, and probably will love it forever.  But, Renee said, also, that she will never get "over" Woody Allen.  


Maybe it is that Windsor typeface? Once she sees those credits roll, Renee knows she will be in a pleasant, comfortable, very funny environment that makes her feel warm inside.  She keeps speaking of nutritional qualities, and her lack of interest in films/art that seek to enrich her life.  


But there are all different types of enrichment, and you really should not judge them.  They are just different.  I think she is getting more nourishment from Woody's films than she cares to let on.  And, that is a beautiful thing.


Or, heck, she will probably start her own blog, and rebut everything I have said here.


(just kidding, Angel)


































Monday, going to see Ms Park in a couple of hours, "Look at me.  Open your mouth.  Not so wide."  






















Mwah, ...