The Immoral World of Woody Allen

I was at work, finishing a project with some students. A co-worker and I were talking. I told her that I was reviewing the new Woody Allen film, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and it looked like I was going alone. I often go to movies alone, but a single guy at a Woody Allen film is a pathetic sight. One of my students, a 13-year-old girl was passing by and overheard my plans. "That sounds fun," she joked, "let's go."

I laughed. Sweet kid, she has no idea that the only thing worse than going alone to a Woody Allen movie is going with a 13-year-old girl on your arm. So I took my father to see it.

The film is one of Allen's best in recent memory. The veteran filmmaker presents us with two worlds at odds: the straight-laced world of material goods, careers and success, and the lusty, fantastical world of artists and romance. Two worlds divided by morals and codes of conduct. The wild, lusty caper stars Javier Bardem as Juan Antonio, a bohemian Spanish artist who whisks away American tourists Vicky and Cristina (Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson) on a weekend on a Spanish island. His proposal is indecent, yet he discloses his intentions: a fun sightseeing trip, and sex. With both of them. The happily engaged Vicky resists, but Cristina is intrigued, and they fly off in his friend's private jet.

What ensues is a dangerous adventure, with affairs and betrayals. Allen's poetic view of infidelity is in rare form here; the temptations of this situation are enormous. The characters almost have no choice but to submit to the beautiful and dangerous world of Juan Antonio and his ex-wife Maria Elena (the wonderful Penelope Cruz). Cristina enters into a three-way romance with the latin lovers, and discovers a better sense of what she does and does not want.

Allen is famous for putting his fantasies and obsessions on the screen. What seems to be at the center of this film, and many of his films, is this culture-clash. If we search back to an earlier film: "There's something different about you," his character Alvie tells title character Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) , "I don't know what it is, but it's great." His characters are all extremely unsatisfied, despite their wealth, education, and seemingly great marriages. They want something different. They seek out artists, in the case of the recent film, or they take interest in someone younger (Manhattan, Husbands and Wives). They might seek impossible companionship in taboo situations like a sister-in-law (Interiors, Hannah and Her Sisters) a wise and helpful prostitute (Deconstructing Harry) or sometimes they might even cross the species barrier (Gene Wilder and Daisy the Sheep in Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex *but were afraid to ask). Often times, the characters suffer the consequences for their infidelity, and emerge with a newfound idea of who they are. They may have destroyed their marriage, lost their job, and become completely confused. But like Cristina, they come out with a better sense of what they don't want.

The new situation Woody Allen presents us with is a tough one. Most of the characters are rather unattached. They have little to lose in choosing to live in a three-way affair. They live together, sleep together, eat together, and find a new kind of balance in their lives. They lack sensibility and security, they are not looking at the future, they are only caught up in the fun and pleasure of now. And the outside characters, such as Vicky's boring fiancee, or a host of other suitors, are boring and materialistic. The women in the film seek something exciting, something dangerous. "Unfulfilled love," Maria Elena says, "is the only kind that can ever be romantic." 

Relationships and attachments are unsatisfying to all of these people. A commitment to a threesome is still a commitment. In fact, it may be even worse, since you could be tied down to two people, not just one. But are we being too puritanical? Is our uptight American idea of marriage holding us back from better knowledge of Love? Life? Ourselves? This issue has been popular in European media for over one hundred years. D.H. Lawrence wrote extensively of open marriage. Henri-Pierre Rochet's Jules et Jim shows us the excitement, volatility and wonderment of three-way partnerships. Foreign writers have been investigating the phenomenon for years, and American audiences may not be ready for it. Are we being prudes, after all?

This is a popular fantasy, but in truth, I believe that few people in the world could ever handle it. Multiple partnerships are unusual, and very complicated. The traditional Mormon household of HBO's Big Love shows us a very undesirable life. The wildness, the freedom and the thrill of multiple partners becomes a bigger trap in many of these situations. Though the three-way relationship is extremely sexy, no fictional film or real individual has presented the public with a good solution to its many problems. Woody Allen has shown us a very hot situation here, but takes a responsible stance, and shows how the characters suffer as a result of their indulgences.

Whether one agrees with Woody Allen, whether one hates him and his life choices, one has to credit him with bringing these subjects to mainstream film. Even if his films have drifted towards the art-house fringe, he still manages to be provocative. As prolific as Shakespeare, as timely and poetic as Chekhov, yet completely original, Woody Allen has given us a huge and important body of work. One film a year since the 1970s, most of which can be considered very very good, if not masterpiece material. His films find a way into our lives, and he remains an important artist in these times, long after he himself has ever been considered a love interest. His new film contains many musings on romance. He embraces loose morals and taboos. They are the ocean he sails his boat upon. And if one can distance the man from his work, one might enjoy Vicky Cristina Barcelona immensely, and emerge from it with a better sense of what one does and does not want.