Summer in the city. Being on vacation in the nation's capital is a nice change from the Orange County scene. Of course the small streets and bad parking of D.C. reminds me of Venice or Santa Monica by the beach, but with a more Euro flair. Focusing on summer movies there are not that many I wanted to see this summer and MIDNIGHT IN PARIS was not exactly on that list. Like most movie buffs I'm partial to pre- 1980's Woody Allen but the heat and free time got the best of me so I took the plunge.
Paris has a special place for most literary minds. It has always had a certain mystique of romantic alley ways, hard baguettes with tasty cheap wine and cheese. Many of America's most creative minds flocked to this city in the early turn of the century so you can't really question their choice... since there must have been a reason. Of course it was the birthplce of new ideas, where everything goes and social norms were constantly contested in favor of pushing the creative envelope. Woody Allen knows this and uses this same situation to create an interesting story with a small twist. I'm sure that more times than not, many screenwriters have played with the idea of a story that brings back a important historical figure to modern day life. What would they say, do or even create in this new crazy modern times would be an excelent plot engine. But to have a modern, simple man enter the past and be mesmerized by it is another. With Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen does so in a very simple way that actually makes it look very easy when the best of us know how hard it is to pull such a story off.
So we take GIL, the main character, (much like every other character in his movies, he's a Woody light) He's a successful screenwriter. He makes a good living but has always wanted to move to Paris and give the old college try at writing the great American novel. He lives in a world of admiration of Scott Fitzgerlad, Hemmingway and others of the time who used the Parisien muses to drink, fight and make love through the many days of writers block. Gil is the stereo typical modern california guy, not to intelectually informed but enought to have studios buy his work, not strong enough in character to really take his dreams to the next level and very out of sync with the weaker sex as his fiancee has more control of his manhood than him of his computer keyboard. Top that with the stereo typical medling inlaws (rich and ignorant like all Americans that travel abroad in Allen movies), mix and serve.
But Gil is missing something. Ines his fiancee is the typical SoCal gal, Fred Segal and Coffee Bean are her homing beacons of interest and culture, and Gil is trying to set himself free from this - but doesn't know it yet. Also he's written his first book but hasn't showed it to anyone. Again another sign he has no faith in himself. He likes walking in the rain, she doesn't. He wants to move to Paris she wishes to put roots in Malibu. Anyway you get the picture.
One night, frustrated by his wife's strange devotion to an old flame, Gil decides to take a walk and of course gets lost, just as the clock strikes midnight. Then suddenly up pulls a 1920's Peugeot and he's invited by a gentleman and his party to join them. He goes and ends up in an underground Jazz bar. His new friends, to Gils's amazement are SCOTT FITZGERALD and his wife. He can't believe it but goes along with it. They start to bar hop and meet another friends of Fitzgerald... a burly unshaven man in a thick mustache who introduces himslef as HEMINGWAY, who right away asks Gil if he's afraid of dying. Gil is awestruck but tries to soak everything in. That same night he meets COLE PORTER singing for the crowd and hits a bodega where JOSEPHINE BAKER is dancing for a very small group of friends. The night ends with Hemmingway taking Gil to GERTRUDE STEIN'S house to ask if she'll read Gil's book. It would be full night for anyone... for a Gil it's shocker!
He returns and lays next to his fiancee, awestruck by the expirience but can't let go of the dream. Here is were you just loose total sense and either you follow or tune out. Anyone would think he's being pulled a prank by Ryan Seacrest, but Gil is so charmingly naive that one follows his folly.So the next night he urges Ines togo with him. They wait and wait, she gets bored and leaves... he stays... but right after the clock strikes midnight... again the old Peugeot comes rolling along... this time another fellow parisian pops out.. who? T.S. ELLIOT.. and another crazy night ensues.
The plot then goes as predicted. Gil's inlaws suspect he's up to no good since he's never with them at night and refuses to go out on trips to stay writing. His fiancee gets mad as Gil gets more involved in the Parisien nightlife, that she doesn't believe is happening. He falls for a girl who's PABLO PICASSO'S mistress and begins his journy of self descovery. During the movie we see from TOULOUSE LAUTREC, to MATISSE, GAUGIN and other geniuses of days gone by. I have to say my favorite performance was Adrien Brody's interpretation of SALVADOR DALI, it had me in stitches. Again Woody Allen has a very great wit for dialogue and it's interesting how he can mix serious intelectual banter with off the wall SoCal frankness that creates the best of both worlds and a classic "fish out of the water" situation. When Gertrude Stein asks Gil, who's just arrived, if he thinks the price she paid (500 francs) for one of Matisses's painting is fair, he goes : "500 francs I think it's fair, in fact I'll take six or seven". Also the dialogue works very well coming out of Owen Wilson's mouth.
In the end Gil comes to the grand conclusion that the best of times is not the past nor the future but the present, that everyone mistaknely thinks is a bore, but in reality they are the times of our lives since we are living and expiriencing things that they happen.
The conclusion of the movie is a bit rushed and convinient but the journey getting there was so entertaining that one doesn't care. Gil finally finds his way, his writting style and his city of choice with a gal, who actually enjoys walking in the rain.
Scott Fitzgerald, Hemmingway and Gertrude Stein would probably aprove.
