Thursday, September 18, 2008


Two friends with opposing views on love have a passionate affair with the same Spanish artist, unaware that his crazy ex-wife is about to show up...

So, over the weekend we went to see Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Woody Allen's latest. It was an apropos movie for me to see at this point. I felt like I was watching an allegory of my life -- with early me represented by the prudish Vicky and, as my friend commented, free-spirited Cristina representing the real me.

Woody even got the hair colors right!

And yet, I was pleased to realize that although Cristina is far closer to current me than Vicky, there's a better balance between the dual personalities than there used to be, now that I've achieved a, er, certain age. And I was proud of myself for making the choices I have -- to bring out the Cristina while celebrating the Vicky -- and to live rather than endure.

We enjoyed the movie. It had smooth grace, gentle humor, and a sort of affectionate, if back-handed, respect for the characters as it poked fun at their angst and inability to move forward. Even the tortured, tragic artistes who existed to feel were every bit as ludicrous, pretentious and shallow as the materialistic culture they'd spurned.

And perhaps Woody nailed it. Because now I want to go to Barcelona, but not for the passion, music, food, museums, art or culture. No. I want to go to Tibidabo Amusement Park to ride on the Avio!

What about you? Are you Vicky, Cristina, or both? Would you rather ride the Avio, or Javier Bardem? Which one do you think would be more exciting?

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