The Last Movie I Saw

I've got to stop believing critics when they label the latest Woody Allen movie as a return to form. It doesn't happen with every one of his releases, but every couple of years, that seems to be the theme, and it certainly has popped up in much of what I've read about Midnight in Paris. I've become convinced that Allen will never match (and certainly not top) his classic mid to late seventies films, and there's no reason why we should expect him to. Those efforts, epitomized by Annie Hall or Manhattan, depending on your individual perspective, were uniquely tied to their times at a moment when Allen was clearly in sync with the zeitgeist in a way that it's ridiculous to assume will ever happen again. That's not a bad thing, and it doesn't mean his more recent (and not so recent) work is no good: Allen can prove over and over again his ability to entertain without us ever mistaking his movies for something more. In a way, this is much like the records put out by Bob Dylan over the past forty years or so-- they will never match his mid-sixties output, no matter how good they are, because it's impossible to imagine the confluence of circumstances that led to his being recognized as the "voice of a generation." He's made some fine albums since that heyday, but despite certain stylistic signatures, much like Allen, he is too peripatetic an artist to lock in to maintaining critical renown. Midnight in Paris is a solid, but lightweight entertainment. It's pleasant enough to while away a couple hours, and fun if you get all the historical and artistic references and cameos. But given how regularly Allen pumps these things out, it's really kind of silly to expect more than that, and so in the future I'll just assume that it's wishful thinking on the part of reviewers who think Allen's latest can stand with his masterpieces. I will say that the shots of Paris in this one make me want to visit, but I'm not sure I'll remember much more about it a year from now when his next movie comes out.