Customer Reviews

Barcelona [VHS]

5 star:		(21)
4 star:		(9)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

Whit Stillman has an ear for sophisticated dialog that is virtually unmatched among today's screenwriters. His characters speak in a way that is sharper, smarter, and "realer" than reality. There is also an intelligence in his work that is all too rare in today's pictures. You come away from his films not only entertained, but enlightened and, probably, having learned something as well.

"Barcelona" is about two American cousins living in Spain. Ted (Taylor Nichols) is a shy, reserved sales rep, and Fred (Chris Eigeman) a brash and handsome naval officer. The story is primarily a romantic one. Ted is in love with Montserrat (Tushka Bergen) and Fred, perhaps, with Marta (Mira Sorvino), both beautiful, free-spirited young Spanish women. Marta, though, turns out to be a little too free for Fred's taste, so he also falls for Montserrat. This, of course, provides complications of its own.

The film is set in "the last decade of the Cold War," a time of rampant anti-Americanism in Barcelona, which adds an intriguing political subtext to the romantic machinations that form the bulk of the story. This subtext manifests itself both in violence and humor that provide needed counterpoint to the love story.

What I like best about Stillman's work is the high regard in which he holds his audience. In a culture where the prevailing cinema is targeted at the lowest common denominator, the wit and intelligence of a film like "Barcelona" are a very welcome relief. When Stillman refers to Dale Carnegie, or the sinking of the "Maine," or draws insight from "Death of a Salesman," he assumes we know what he's talking about. He never belabors the point or tries to explain it. He simply allows us to nod and smile, without being hit over the head with any gratuitous exposition.

"Barcelona" builds on the promise that Stillman first showed in "Metropolitan." This work is a more fully realized and executed film, relying not just on his gift for dialogue, but delivering greater levels of characterization and development as well. Stillman is one of our finest young filmmakers; more of a verbal auteur than a visual one, but a great talent all the same.

First things first, Whit Stillman should be making movies until he dies. Let's get that guy back behind the camera for the good of everybody. Barcelona, as a film, is deceptively serious as, amid its banal conversations about the proper way to shave and management theory, grave subjects are illuminated.

The reflexive anti-Americanism of Spain and Europe are integral to many of the interactions experienced by Taylor and Eigeman, the two main characters. It's at the end of The Cold War and Spain is conflicted over NATO. A humorous side light concerning this situation is made by Eigeman, "I think it's well-known that anti-Americanism has its roots in sexual impotence, at least in Europe." Eigeman's presence in the uniform of a US Naval officer in the Barcelona streets has somewhat predictable results. Yet, no one is able to refute his point that even if the Spaniards don't like NATO, they would never prefer the Soviets rolling through Western Europe instead. The conspiracy theories that some of the Spanish poseurs spout are quite bankrupt on their surface (such as the existence of a right-wing labor union called the AFL-CIA).

On an aesthetic level, this is a beautiful film. Shots of the grand buildings that comprised old Catalonia are breathtaking. The outfits and faces of the trade show girls are just as riveting. I think Stillman succeeds in capturing some of the city's nobility within these frames.

The Spanish women are a mystery to both Eigeman and Taylor, but, with Taylor, the audience is constantly present as he overanlyzes emotions which few words could possibly describe. You have the feeling though that a character like Taylor's would be a foreigner in any land he visited. Thanks for this one, Mr. Stillman, now go make six more.

I rented Barcelona from Netflix after I was amazed by the hilarity and originality of Metropolitan. I figured if Whit Stillman did half as good a job on Barcelona it would be worth it. My expectations were exceeded. Right after I finished watching it, I sat down at my computer and ordered it from Amazon. Whit Stillman is so smart and his script is so hilarious. Chris Eigeman is an absolute genius. Taylor Nichols is superb as well. I am astonished by Stillman's talent, yet nobody I talk to knows about him. I can't understand how he can fly under the radar. His humor is so literate. The performances he gets from his actors are so deadpan, each joke is like a punch to the face. I laugh in amazement. This is a fantasticly creative film. It's not mainstream, but if you do end up liking it, you will be so happy to have found it.

As the film opens, we are told that this is the last decade of the cold war. There is a shot of a rather unimpressive explosion at the American Library and of a young Spaniard throwing a rock through the window of a small IBM office. It seems an odd note on which to begin a romantic comedy, and delivered in un-scored, still-shots quickly falls to the background where, of course, it subtly colors almost every other incident in the film.

Ted Boynton, an American sales rep from Chicago, is working on assignment in Barcelona, Spain. His cousin, Fred, a naval Lieutenant sent to carry out advance work in public relations before the arrival of the 6th fleet, has just arrived and is looking for a place to stay. It is an uneasy arrangement; they have been disputing and caviling since childhood. And continue to do so throughout the film. They are ruminators with long memories who share very few opinions. And when they meet Marta and Monserrat, "cool trade fare girls," there can be no statement, no thought, no act without commentary. So the film is largely composed of scenes in which Ted and Fred philosophize on love, beauty, business and cultural differences as they court-in tandem-Marta and Monserrat. And all of this transpires in fascinating, pretty little vignettes whose comedy gradually mounts and mounts and mounts until the sinister spin of the background events overtake the foregoing romantic sweep. How remarkable it is that we should pass--in only a very few minutes--from comedy to tragedy to comedy, and do so with the grace and majestic drama of a cloud momentarily passing before the sun.

The great sweet beauty of this film, however, is the marriage of such engaging dialogue, such earnest deadpan deliveries shot in such eerie clarity--one reminiscent of the interiors in Dutch genre painting: clean, homely, homiletic. It is done with a kind of professorial remove: there is story followed by commentary, then more story followed by commentary. A still shot is followed by a people shot which is followed by a still shot and so on; but they are coupled in such a fashion that the shot of the characters is the only real animation, the only real action, the only real drive-giving conversation an otherwise missing dynamic. And this is a rare feat in modern American film. Ordinarily, romantic comedies depend upon mishaps, mistakes and misunderstandings, exaggerated out of all proportion, for all of their narrative beats and most of their laughter. In Barcelona, however, the physical climb and fall of the drama is entirely real, if not ordinary. Dilation and expansion of fact are reserved for the wit of the banter, the voice-over commentaries and the emotionally savory resolve. All in all, Barcelona is both beautiful and funny. It manages to turn a suite of classically static images-bronzed, burnished, melancholy-upon a fast-driving dialogue endowed with the modest but enhancing artificiality of a painting, a novel or--better yet--an infinitely refined film.

Whit Stillman has his eye on the world and his finger on the pulse of a certain breed of upperclass white society, and white upperclass men in particular. He understands their insecurities and ineffectualities while pulling apart the fabric of their lives to expose their structure as inherently faulty. In Barcelona, the result is always whimsical and occasionally hysterical, juxtaposing American and European thoughts and values while never losing sight of the great underlying tragedy: that everyone is lonely, regardless of where they come from or what language they speak.

Stillman is incredibly literary as filmmakers go, injecting more sociopolitical dialogue into his scripts than most would dare. But the skilled actors, especially Stillman regulars Taylor Nichols and Chris Eigeman as cousins Ted and Fred Boynton, add a level of humanity to their otherwise textbook arguments that make them relevant and dryly hilarious. Stillman also has a penchant for the borderline absurd, masterfully combining comedy and tragedy. Who else could elicit humor while negating pity from a botched assassination attempt than Stillman and Eigeman, much less find a romantic angle to work?

For my money, it's the little moments that make any story worth remembering, and Barcelona is peppered with them. Eigeman's failed attempts to introduce the Barcelona soiree crowd to the allure of the limbo... Nichols's uptight sales executive trying to loosen up by reading the Bible while dancing to "Pennsylvania 6-5000," unaware that he has an audience... an anecdote about a dead soldier's body being shipped home to the states, as told from the coffin's point of view while being transported on a forklift... even wordplays, as when Nichols accidentally accepts an invitation to an evening of jazz with "Vinyl Hampton." Small moments, but their resonance is huge. I've seen this movie twice, over five years ago, and I can still remember whole scenes to this day.

Stillman's power as a director is understated, but the lasting effect of his little gems -- Barcelona and Metropolitan chief among them -- are worth seeking out.

Barcelona is not really a comedy, but the dialouge sounds similar to Woody Allen anyway. Its sorta of nuerosis comedy/political drama/growing up film. What makes it special though is the two leads whom I've never seen before. Ted is a romantic who talks like he's reading from a romantic novel, while Fred is light hearted on the romantic front but enourmously sensitive when it comes to anti-Americanisms by the locals. Its funny that Ted and Fred are as ignorant about the local women as the locals are of America. The US OF A has always been an easy target for critisism abroad for its meddling, some are true and some aren't. That the film manages to include such politics and remain relatively light hearted and free of anger is quite an achievement.Although a development near the end threatens to indulge in melodrama, Stillman stil manages to make it real and even funny. However, to counter all the negativity about Americans the film sometimes (seems) to stereotype Spanish women as promiscious/cold/leftists as personified by MARTA(Mira Sorvino). I say "seems" becuase I've only been to Spain once and never to Barcelona, if its true however, then that is definitly the place to go next summer.

For an American expat living in Europe, Barcelona's complex sense of indignation and resignation at how Americans are viewed abroad rings true. Beautifully written, and shot like a love letter to its titular city, this excellent, intelligent film helps me find a way to laugh through the tears. I recently bought Stillman's earlier film, Metropolitan, and I found that it has held up, if anything, slightly better than Barcelona as time has passed. In both films the dialogue is marvellous, and the characters familiar. Where is Whit Stillman now, anyway? We need him. Get to work, Whit!

This witty and very intelligent comedy is a slice of life of two 30-something Americans in Spain. Ted's an awkward, yet successful sales representative, who's down on his luck with the ladies. As a result, he plunges himself into a series of self-help methods as well as religion. After an unexpected, late night phone call, his cousin Fred, a junior naval officer, and the quintessential ugly-American, who's got no problem forcing his two-cents on anyone, ends up staying with him. Ted's not happy with this, as he still blames Fred for the loss of his kayak when they were preteens, so early on he asks Fred how long he plans to stay, because "guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days." Fred answers, "no, you'll find that I stink on the first day." And this basically sums up their relationship throughout the movie. So the two basically play on each other's nerves, fumble through some relationships with a few ladies, give us a glimpse at Barcelona's nightlife, and offer a heck of an insight on the cultural differences between the U.S. and Spanish. In the end they patch up their relationship, get their girls and seemingly live happily ever after--but not after some really funny, and even tragic, moments.

It helps to have an understanding of the Spanish and their view of Americans, so many viewers might not catch some of the subtle jokes. If you're expecting a comedy in the vein of Animal House, then this isn't your movie. But if you're looking for flick that will tickle your intellectual funny bone, then grab your Pringles and pop this one in. You won't be sorry.

Taylor Nichols and Chris Eigeman are cousins living in Barcelona, Spain in the early 1980s. They still have issues with each other that date back to their childhood, but that is the least of their problems. Barcelona is becoming anti-American. It doesn't help that Eigeman is a navy attache and frequently in uniform. They do have the perk of pretty Spanish girls who seems to open up like flowers, but of course they'll open up for anyone.

Barcelona is what might be called a serious comedy. The characters are real people in real life situations and should appear boring, but their real life quirks make them even funnier than the typical comedy. It's all due to the virtuoso writer/director Whit Stillman, who spends far too little time writing and directing gems like this. You'll have to watch it more than once to really appreciate it, but the more you watch it, the more you'll see it's unique perspective on being an American. That goes for all of Stillman's films come to think of it.

The comparisons to woody allen and kevin smith are valid, everyone likes to talk in this movie. Or at least the guys do. And that's the point. Two young, neurotic americans in laid back barcelona in the seventies. The spanish girls listen and nod and look at the guys like they're from another planet. This is a very sweet and very funny movie. Chris Eigeman has to be the most un-stereotypical military man ever presented in film. And Mira Sorvino never looked so beautiful. The scene where the guy spys on Mira and the other women learning a dance step is one of the most beautiful in all of film.