If you’re gathered about a table with friends and somebody pulls out the phrase “Ozymandias Melancholia,” there should be a warning label attached: Rated R (adult language, reminiscing, pretension). Man, don’t spring that on me without a trailer or something! This is the phrase that sets To Rome with Love apart from, say, Valentine’s Day in that you can’t just gawk at the screen thinking, “Jessica Alba pretty.”
To Rome with Love is a collection of a-typical tales with just the venue in common and nothing else. Not even chronology, really. The OM thoughtbomb leads into a tale of John (Alec Baldwin), who visually relives a past affair through Jack (Jesse Eisenberg), coaching and criticizing (himself) through the process. I surprised more movies don’t do this. Don’t you think Old Spock – a personal favorite as aftershaves go — would have a great deal more to say to Young Spock in Star Trek?
Rome is a “face-weary tale,” the type in which you smile in anticipation of something grand that never quite arrives. Take, for instance, the tale of local schlub (what’s Italian for “schlub”?) Leopoldo (Roberto Benigni). One night, a switch flips, and suddenly he’s a celebrity as if granted a wish from the National Enquirer Fairy. Paparazzi start following him around; people ask him for autographs; hot women want to sleep with him. When interviewed on the local news, he’s asked, “What did you have for breakfast?” with the entirety of Rome hanging on every syllable of response. If you’ve grown beyond the age in which you’d find merit in The Avengers or Ted, you’ll probably relate this moment as very enjoyable when recounting the film. But even then, you’re not gonna laugh out loud.
The two remaining stories involve newlyweds artificially split by circumstance – he ends up with a high-price call girl (Penélope Cruz), she with a movie star. And the tale that came closest to evoking a laugh out loud from me – new in-laws meeting for the first time and the music producer father-of-bride (Woody Allen) discovers that the mortician father-of-groom (noted tenor Fabio Armiliato) has an opera voice to die for, but only when he is in the shower. There are smiles here. Certainly. Laughs? Well. Maybe you’ve grown beyond laughing; if you come for Midnight in Paris, you’ll be disappointed. If you come to waste an afternoon in enjoyable company, you might find comfort.
“Ozymandias melancholia”/whaddaya think about that?
Clearly another realm from/The Cat in the Hat
Tales about “love”/have we been gypped?
Given ages more like/Tales from the Crypt
Rated R, 112 Minutes
D: Woody Allen
W: Woody Allen
Genre: Modern Allen
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Your grandmother
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Your grandchild
