Midnight in Paris
Gil and his fiance, Inez, travel to Paris for a holiday. He is a successful Hollywood screenwriter, and is trying to become a novelist. While Inez hangs out with her parents and some friends, Gil hangs out with Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, Dali, Stein and other artists and writers from the 1920s. Each night he is transported back to what he believes is the golden age of Paris, and this takes him further and further away from Inez.
This is fairly typical Woody Allen stuff – the pained, self-critical artist, looking for himself. At first I wasn’t sure I liked Owen Wilson in Woody’s shoes. But he does grow into the role as he goes. McAdams certainly doesn’t do the script any favours (I’m not a huge fan of hers really), but in typical Woody Allen style, she is only on the peripheries of the film anyway. The real love interest for Gil is the romance of Paris itself.
It’s a quirky flick, not overly engaging or funny, but light, entertaining, and clever.