Theoretically, I love going to the movies. In reality, however, I’m mostly too tired to sit in a darkened space for a couple of hours without dozing off (and, I’m told, I do so noisily!) I haven’t been to a cinema in ages, but recently I went to see the new Woody Allen film, Midnight in Paris.
The film immediately seduced me with its opening sequence of Parisian views. If, like me, you’ve lived there, it brings back all sorts of memories and, if you’ve never been, I defy you to watch the film and not want to go there immediately.
Midnight in Paris is on a par with Annie Hall and Manhattan. The movie, unlike much of Allen’s later work, is sweet-tempered and charming. Despite the exquisite use of fantasy throughout, the film is a joyous celebration of accepting one’s reality and of the transforming power of love.
I recommend it highly.