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Woody AllenForgatókönyvíró:
Woody AllenOperatőr:
Darius KhondjiSzereplők:
Colin Firth, Emma Stone, Antonia Clarke, Simon McBurney, Ute Lemper, Catherine McCormack, Eileen Atkins, Erica Leerhsen, Jeremy Shamos, Hamish Linklater (több)Tartalmak(1)
Kevesen tudják, hogy minden idők legünnepeltebb kínai bűvésze, Wi Ling Soo valójában nem más, mint Stanley Crawford (Colin Firth), egy mogorva, arrogáns angol férfi. Crawford nem csak egetverően öntelt, de irtózik az állítólagos médiumoktól, akik azt hangoztatják, igazi varázslatra képesek. Legjobb barátja, Howard Burkan (Simon McBurney) meggyőzi a mágust: utazzon el vele a Cote D'Azurra, a Catledge családhoz, és leplezze le a fiatal, és rendkívül elbűvölő látnokot, Sophie Bakert (Emma Stone). A bájos Sophie édesanyjával (Marcia Gay Harden) érkezett a Riviérára, Grace Catledge (Jacki Weaver) meghívására, aki abban a reményben invitálta meg az ifjú hölgyet, hogy kapcsolatba léphet elhunyt férjével. Sophie érkezésének Mrs. Grace fia (Hamish Linklater) örül a legjobban, Brice, aki pillanatok alatt fülig belehabarodik a fiatal látnokba. Ebbe az idillbe toppan bele Crawford, aki úgy gondolja, ő bizony átlát a szitán, és leleplezheti a lányt. Nem is érti, a család miért ennyire hiszékeny, és hogy nem veszik észre a nyilvánvalót: Sophie-nak nincs természetfeletti képessége. (Freeman Film)
(több)Recenziók (7)
Tökéletes trükk Allen-módra. De Woody ezúttal túl keveset megy a karakterek mélységébe ahhoz, hogy ez működjön közöttük. A Firth és Stone közötti szikrázása egyetlen jelenetben (csillagvizsgálóban) működik csak, és egyáltalán nem működik a film döntő utolsó negyedében (csattanó után). A két szereplő jellemét tekintve összeegyeztethetetlen. Ha Woody maga játszotta volna a racionális unalmas alakot, akkor a film legalább nem tettetné magát reálisnak, nem törekedne a romantikus dimenzió elérhetetlen céljára, és tiszta, fergeteges vígjáték lenne. Éppen csak három csillag.
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This review contains spoilers. I did not expect a lot of originality from the 78-year-old director’s forty-fifth film. Unfortunately, Woody Allen does even make an attempt at originality here and only dusts off previously used motifs: an older man in love with a younger woman (Manhattan, Whatever Works), communication with the dead (Alice), the importance of self-deception and faith in illusions (The Purple Rose of Cairo), and magicians, illusionists and hucksters (The Curse of the Jade Scorpion, Scoop). The initial premise would well serve one of Allen’s literary stories, but in a feature-length film, it runs out of steam after the first half-hour. Instead of further developing the plot, the next thirty-plus minutes are spent watching two or more people driving slowly or carrying on a static dialogue about death, God and love beyond the grave. Due to the poorly motivated final twist (which doesn’t explain how Catledge was involved in the whole game), the film is not only misanthropic, but also misogynistic. The complaining and caustic – though thanks to Firth, also charming – boor is given the truth so that he can remain who he is. Conversely, we have no reason to admire his victim, whom he spends a large part of the film trying to prove is a liar (a parallel with Allen’s personal life?). A young and naïve con-woman suddenly appears before us and she incomprehensibly submits to the malicious aging cynic rather than to the young, virile and wealthy ukulele player (judging from the rising popularity of that instrument, I’m guessing that Allen is using Brice as a means of mocking today’s youth and passing fads). The only explanation for her decision in the final scene is Allen’s wish for things to be just like this, for beautiful “manic pixie dream girls” to submit to intolerably sarcastic intellectuals who refuse to change their behaviour in any way. It seems that Sophie’s only reward for helping Stanley to get his second wind is a daily reminder of her intellectual inferiority. Other than a few jokes, whose punchlines Allen’s fans will see coming from a mile away, and two irresistible actors, this defence of love between an older man and a significantly younger woman offers nothing more than a sophisticated visual aspect. However, the fact that the often audaciously long shots of the French Riviera and elegantly dressed actors were captured on wide-screen 35 mm film loses significance in cinemas with digital projectors, i.e. the vast majority of them. Appendix: Immediately after the screening, I felt this was worthy of two stars. This evening, however, I saw Menzel’s The Don Juans and realised that an old man being in love with his own ego can take a far more monstrous form. 55%
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The equivalent of a garden party clown you know exactly what to expect from. Nothing miraculous, but solidly performed craft where you know and can see through every magic trick, but that’s also what you are expecting from it and that’s what you are getting. But with Woody Allen you might expect him to pull something of Copperfield-type dimensions out of the hat after all and not to satisfy himself with something cute and trivial. Maybe in the next show.
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There were times when I looked forward to every premiere of Woody's films and didn't hesitate to sacrifice money and time for a visit to the movie theater. Those times are gone. Watching his films has started unpleasantly resembling routine checking off items on a list. He has nothing to surprise with and doesn't even attempt to. This is the second time he has used the setting of a cabaret magic show as a starting point, but The Curse of the Jade Scorpion seemed fresher and funnier to me, and it was made more for the viewer than for the indulgence of Woody's own ego. The beginning of the film looks promising. Colin Firth deservedly grabs attention and the role suits him. Emma Stone, if nothing else, is at least unique and the film somewhat works comedically until the revelation of the mystification. However, as the minutes pass, the film seems to get stuck, loses its charm, and becomes tiresome. It would be better if it had self-irony, a sense of reality, and the willingness to go beyond the threshold of emotional pain and informed sadness. The ending moves the film towards banality, one can hardly understand Sophie's choice of life partner. Woody succumbed to elderly vanity and I understand those comments that mention the word snob. Considering his previous merits, I will still give the film a weak 3 stars. In Magic in the Moonlight, a piece of Woody's life philosophy appears, partly taking inspiration from Oscar Wilde's legacy, but it's far from being one of his peak films. Overall impression: 50%.
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This is a nice little film that seems to have actually been made in the late 1920s. By a slight coincidence, it features contemporary actors. Absolutely magnificent. Have I honestly ever not loved something that offered me Berlin in 1928? It would be very foolish to even expect such a thing. Of course, I can also never get enough of Colin, and that surprises me.
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It's a magically kind film, with a wickedly funny Colin Firth, the wonderful atmosphere of South France and the 1920s, and the message that "we need illusions to live", which Woody Allen used in Shadows and Fog (and elsewhere), but I don't mind that in the least. That I discovered the point before the movie revealed it? So what? Magic in the Moonlight is neither the pinnacle of Allen's filmography nor a groundbreaking title. It is, however, a cute comedy made exactly in the spirit of "memory" films, which either doesn't offend or delights. But I bet that it cannot disappoint. "He started out as a snake man. An interesting choice when someone wants to get away from reality."
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Woody Allen shows that while he may be aging and his films can be somewhat verbose and meandering for some, without saying as much, when he takes on great actors like Firth or Stone, the result is still worth it. And this result is indeed worth it, not just because I have a weakness for illusions and magicians.
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