Midnight in Paris

Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Michael Sheen, Corey Stoll, Tom Hiddleston, Kathy Bates, Adrien Brody, Marion Cotillard

Dir & Scr. Woody Allen

Midnight in Paris has all the elements we have come to expect from a good Woody Allen film – it’s charming, self-indulgent, intellectual, surreal, silly, sentimental, wordy. It will frustrate some, as does all his work. But it will delight many more – it is truly a love letter to Paris in the 1920s. For my money, this is Allen’s best film since the late 90s and I’m pleased to see his fantastical whimsy back on screen. It’s not perfect and could have done with a touch more ruthless editing, but I defy lovers of art and literature not to grin their way through this film.

Owen Wilson plays Gil (who is, of course, a version of Allen himself) – a Hollywood writer who truly wants to be a novelist, on holiday in Paris with his fiancé (McAdams) and her parents. Gil adores Paris, especially in the rain, an infatuation that his fiancé does not share. The “golden age”, according to Gil, is 1920s Paris and one night, while drunk and alone and lost, Gil is transported back to this era. On his midnight excursions through time, he meets his heroes and an array of the great and the good in the creative world – the Fitzgeralds, Hemmingway, Stein, Picasso, Dali – as well as Adriana (Cotillard), the beguiling mistress of Picasso. Gil is smitten, with both Adriana and the world he finds himself in. Romance, satire and insight ensues. The moral of the story? We all long for a more enchanting time, even those in the seemingly most enchanting time. And, in the wise words of our protagonist, everyone’s present is “a little unsatisfying because life is unsatisfying.”

Midnight in Paris, visually, is a delight. I have never been to Paris (a hole in my character and, dear I say it, my soul that I plan to remedy in the very near future), but this film (and many like it) make the city feel so familiar and beautiful. And Paris in the 20s, wow. In an inspired twist, we even get a glimpse of Paris in the roaring 1890s.

Allen has a great deal of fun portraying not only his own neurotic self, but also a host of wonderful true-life characters. Was Zelda Fitzgerald quite as flighty? Was Dali really a madman? Was Hemmingway truly as intense? Maybe. But the accuracy of these men and women matter little – Allen is clearly enjoying playing with such creative geniuses. And some of the characterisations are simply wonderful. Hemmingway (Stoll) is exactly as I would have loved him to be – honest, intense, insightful and actually quite dull (until he gets a few drinks in him). And Dali (Brody) quite simply steals the show in his one (alas, only one) scene.

I can’t fault any of the acting on offer in Midnight in Paris. All those playing true life personalities are clearly having the time of their lives. Brody, Stoll and Hiddleston (as Fitzgerald) are particularly good. McAdams is truly and utterly vile, which is spot-on. Sheen gives a wonderful turn as a know-it-all academic – oh, how I both despised him and recognised myself in him. Wilson’s performance is solid if somewhat annoying, although this certainly isn’t unusual for the lead in Allen’s films. The real star is the wonderful and beautiful Marion Cotillard – utterly enchanting as always, she is an actress who simply delivers every single time.

Midnight in Paris is an easily likeable movie which, for Allen, is certainly not always the case. And it has dialogue to die for. This is not necessarily a substantial cinematic work, but there is enough insight here to make it more than just an enjoyable 90 minutes in the dark.

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Luis Buñuel: A man in love with a woman from a different era. I see a photograph!
Man Ray: I see a film!
Gil: I see insurmountable problem!
Salvador Dalí: I see rhinoceros!