Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Woody Allen's latest Scarlett Johansson showcase, is definitely worth watching, especially now in the doldrums of winter. The lens is sensuously washed in seductive shades of saffron, reflecting the delicious golden haze of the Spanish summer sun. This works only to enhance the undeniable beauty of Pénelope Cruz, so sultry and sumptuous, despite her role as a woman constantly on the verge of meltdown. Sonia Grande's costumes sing of chic summer ease, featherweight and flowing against the body with every breeze, invoking envy in anyone stuck in Midwestern winter hell. Allen, in highlighting Barcelona's typical but still stunning Gaudí and Miró, as well as the quieter beauty of the countryside and other overlooked sites, has found a new city to which he can write a love song. Everything about the film made me yearn for a vacation. Damn you, Woody Allen. Damn you.
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