Owen Wilson stars as Gil, a burned-out Hollywood script writer who's visiting Paris with his fiancée. The couple have very different opinions of Paris and of life in general; she hates the city and wants to hurry back to her Beverly Hills life while he adores Paris and wishes he had lived there in the 1920s. One night, at midnight, Gil's fantasy comes true as he is magically transported to the glittering world of Fitzgerald, Hemmingway, Picasso, and Gertrude Stein.
If you love Woody Allen, you'll enjoy this movie. Wilson plays the typically introspective, dissatisfied, stammering, good-hearted dreamer that Woody used to play (but with much less success). Wilson just doesn't have the power and charisma needed to pull off the role. He's boring and I never cared about him or Rachel McAdams, who plays his fiancée. She's really annoying and unremarkable in every way. Marion Cotillard, on the other hand, is utterly charming as Gil's 1920's love interest and Cathy Bates is fun to watch as Gertrude Stein.
The City of Lights never looked lovelier, with nearly every scene saturated in golden light, befitting Gil's dreamland. The period costumes are lovely and several scenes featuring famous people from the past are enjoyable (although the fun wears off quickly). Writer/director Allen's script is silly, predictable, shallow, and dull. I couldn't relate to any of the characters; it was like visiting a wax museum with mannequins that are pretty on the surface only. 2.5 stars.
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