It must be true that getting out of town can do a fellow a lot of good, because Vicky Cristina Barcelona is the best movie Woody Allen has made in years. Okay, you're right, 2006's Match Point already claimed that honor and, as Allen's first film made in England, established the virtues of getting away from overfamiliar territory (namely Manhattan). But the Woodman's first film made in Spain matches the ice-cold Match Point for crisp authority, and yields a good deal more sheer pleasure besides. Rebecca Hall (Vicky) and Scarlett Johansson (Cristina) play two young Americans, best friends, spending a summer in Catalonia. Vicky is going for a master's in "Catalan identity" (though her Spanish is shaky); Cristina is going along for, oh, just about anything. That soon includes celebrated abstract artist Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), who's anything but abstract in his forthright proposition that the two join him in his private plane, his travels, and his bed. That he has an insane ex-wife, Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz), who may or may not have tried to kill him is not really an issue until the wife reappears and ... well, consider the possibilities.
Vicky Cristina Barcelona isn't exactly a comedy, at least not in the manner of Allen's "early, funny ones," but it's informed by a rueful wit that finds its fullest expression in reflective voiceover commentary. Spoken by Christopher Evan Welch, but surely on behalf of the 73-year-old auteur, this element of the film is neither (as some have charged) patronizing nor uncinematic; rather, it's integral to the movie's participation in a venerable European literary tradition, the sentimental education. Instead of Bergman or Fellini, this time Allen is invoking the François Truffaut of Jules and Jim and Eric Rohmer in his many meditations on the game of love. The entire cast is terrific (both Hall and Johansson get to play "the Woody part" at different points), with Bardem and Cruz especially delightful as exemplars of Old Worldliness. Cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe honors every drop of Catalonian sunlight and glint of Gaudí architecture. --Richard T. Jameson

First screened in Europe and scheduled for limited release in the U.S., Bandidas can now be viewed by all fans of the visually stunning duo, Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek. Set in Mexico 1888, Bandidas is a Western spoof about two women, Maria Alvarez (Penelope Cruz) and Sara Sandoval (Salma Hayek), who seek to avenge the tragedies befallen both their fathers under robber baron, Tyler Jackson (Dwight Yoakam). Jackson, employed by the Bank of New York, is sent to Mexico to buy land and open banks to the detriment of local culture. Jackson kills Sara's corrupt father, Don Diego, while bandits burn down Maria's home. The two ladies band together for the community's cause. Under the tutelage of Bill Buck (Sam Sheperd), Sara and Maria develop bank robbery skills. When criminologist, Quentin Cooke (Steve Zahn), hunts them, they convert him with their strong moral sense and good looks. Like any Thelma and Louise-ish tale of women who take charge, Maria and Sara are foil characters who eventually become an invincible, sisterly team. This comedy is built around their bickering. For Sara, with European education and penchant of designer clothing, Maria is a hick who lacks refinement, yet Maria, horse whisperer, can fire a gun. The slapstick is overkill, for example when Sara wonders whether a bandana is Gucci or Prada. However, viewers will love Penelope Cruz on horseback and the two actresses practice-kissing their foe in a brothel. Bandidas is a light film with some laughs and mucho sex appeal. -- Trinie Dalton

A briskly paced hybrid of Boogie Nights and Goodfellas, Blow chronicles the three-decade rise and fall of George Jung (Johnny Depp), a normal American kid who makes a personal vow against poverty, builds a marijuana empire in the '60s, multiplies his fortune with the Colombian Medellín cocaine cartel, and blows it all with a series of police busts culminating in one final, long-term jail sentence. "Your dad's a loser," says this absentee father to his estranged but beloved daughter, and he's right: Blow is the story of a nice guy who made wrong choices all his life, almost single-handedly created the American cocaine trade, and got exactly what he deserved. As directed by Ted Demme, the film is vibrantly entertaining, painstakingly authentic... and utterly aimless in terms of overall purpose.
We can't sympathize with Jung's meteoric rise to wealth and the wild life, and Demme isn't suggesting that we should idolize a drug dealer. So what, exactly, is the point of Blow? Simply, it seems, to present Jung's story as the epitome of the coke-driven glory days, and to suggest, ever so subtly, that Jung isn't such a bad guy, after all. Anyone curious about his lifestyle will find this film amazing, and there's plenty of humor mixed with the constant threat of violence and paranoid anxiety. Demme has also populated the film with a fantastic supporting cast (although Penélope Cruz grows tiresome as Jung's hedonistic wife), and this is certainly a compelling look at the other side of Traffic. Still, one wishes that Blow had a more viable reason for being; like a wild party, it leaves you with a hangover and a vague feeling of regret. --Jeff Shannon

"Be Italian!" comes the thundering command from one of the catchiest songs in Nine, and the movie version of this Broadway musical hit is undeniably solid on that point. It's drenched in cool cars, glamorous Italian threads, and cozy Roman neighborhoods, all circa 1962. That, you will note, is the vintage of Federico Fellini's classic film 8 ½, the source for both the stage show and Rob Marshall's frantic musical picture. As in the Fellini, the story revolves around film director Guido Contini, a glamorous public genius who's expected to begin shooting his expensive new movie in a few days. The only problem is, the maestro has no idea what his next film will be about, and he spirals through a week of mistresses, cigarettes, and robust fantasy as he avoids the subject. Marshall's approach to musicalizing this massive case of writer's block is to shunt the songs off into the giant studio where the sets for Guido's new movie have been built; the idea, presumably, is to frame them so the audience isn't perturbed by the old-movie convention of characters breaking into song in the middle of a scene. Fair enough, maybe, but did the numbers themselves have to be so aggressively vulgar? All of Guido's women have their turn to vocalize (and invariably writhe around in slutty underwear): Marion Cotillard plays his faultless wife, Penélope Cruz a hot-tempered mistress, Nicole Kidman his elegant star, Kate Hudson a horny journalist, Black Eyed Peas member Fergie the voluptuous beachside prostitute of Guido's childhood. And that's not the end of Guido's feminine carousel; Judi Dench plays his loyal costumer, and Sophia Loren lends her iconic stature to the role of Guido's mother. The man himself is played by Daniel Day-Lewis, who doesn't have the sheer movie-star presence of Mastroianni in 8 ½, even if he creates an intriguing visual figure--all bony intensity and nicotine jags. The film's empty flash is quickly numbing, and even fans of the original musical will likely find it a chore sorting through the glitz. On the upside, it may make you want to watch 8 ½ again. --Robert Horton

Vanilla Sky reunites director Cameron Crowe (Jerry Maguire) with über-playboy Tom Cruise, adds another sexy Cruz (Penélope) and Cameron Diaz for good measure, and delivers a wildly entertaining, bizarre venture into erotic science fiction. Adapted near exactly from Spanish filmmaker Alejandro Amenábar's 1997 romantic thriller Open Your Eyes, the film follows David Aames (Cruise) as he falls from his graceful Manhattan perch of inordinate wealth, good looks, and newfound love with Sofia (Cruz) because of severe facial disfigurement in a car accident caused by a suicidal ex-lover (Diaz). What at first promises to be a conventional allegory of redemption via true love is turned on its head as Cruise's character, reduced to wearing a latex mask and spurned by his friends, wins back his princess only after a miracle of plastic surgery restores his former beauty. A series of plot twists follows as waking life, technological advances, and nightmares flip-flop to dizzying effect and David ultimately comes face to face with his own mortality. Despite a final conceit to some vague morality, the appeal of the film is the wonderfully callous message conveyed by the rest of it (money and physical beauty equal happiness) through an unabashed vanity perfectly embodied by Cruise and Cruz. A delicious, decadent treat. --Fionn Meade

It took more than 25 years for another Clive Cussler novel to come to the screen after the financial and critical disaster of Raise the Titanic. Based on Cussler's oddly landlocked adventure, Sahara finds the author's hero, Dirk Pitt (Matthew McConaughey)--a sort of all-American, high seas variation of James Bond--in Africa looking for a Confederate ironclad ship that impossibly might have ended up there. Soon he and his faithful sidekick Al Giordino (Steve Zahn) are lost in another adventure, discovering a deadly contaminate being tracked by a beautiful doctor (Penelope Cruz). The results are checkered: there's no one outstanding sequence, but the action is enjoyably varied, while the thrills are mild yet not bombastic or gratuitous. The cast are all adept in their roles, yet the only one who sparkles is the scene-stealing Zahn, cast against type; McConaughey, who also produced, knows he might be starting a franchise character and plays it safe. He's never as dangerous as Cussler's hero is on the page (except in his introduction), and in fact, the whole movie plays towards comedy, infused by a soundtrack of 70s FM radio monsters. Cussler fanatics may not like this lighter fare, especially with the archeological portion (a Cussler strong point) not fully embraced, but with a very, very likable cast and colorful settings, Sahara is a kindler, gentler action film that has all the elements in place for a better, more memorable franchise if anyone cares to attempt it. --Doug Thomas

Adapted from Cormac McCarthy's award-winning novel, All the Pretty Horses cries for epic length but runs only 112 minutes for theatrical release. Drastically shortened during a lengthy stretch between production and release, this operatic drama feels as if huge chunks are missing, and what remains are fragments of a masterpiece that might have been. Unless a more definitive version is revealed, we must settle for this faint echo of McCarthy's ambitious narrative, in which dispossessed Texas rancher John Grady Cole (Matt Damon) ventures to Mexico in 1949 to revive his fading dreams of cowboy glory. With best friend Lacey Rawlins (Henry Thomas), Cole's odyssey takes him from youthful idealism to rugged, often horrific, and ultimately ennobling tests of integrity.
Much of Cole's ordeal is sparked by his forbidden love for Alejandra (Penelope Cruz), the beautiful daughter of his Mexican employer, whose family honor is threatened by their mutual attraction. A gunslinging teenager (Lucas Black) casts a black cloud over them all, and All the Pretty Horses becomes a test of Cole's ability to navigate a labyrinth of distorted truth, imprisonment, and hard-fought redemption. All of which begs for emotional depth and carefully developed characters, but this truncated film lacks both. Scenes jump from one to the next with obvious gaps between them, lending no opportunity for emotional investment. It's clear that director Billy Bob Thornton is attempting to redefine the Western, and the effort is laudable on many points, notably in its perfect match of visuals and a flavorful musical score. There's much to admire in this film, making its shortcomings all the more lamentable. --Jeff Shannon

With this lavish follow-up to Shakespeare in Love, director John Madden proves himself a worthy craftsman of literary films, and while Captain Corelli's Mandolin may frustrate admirers of Louis de Bernières's densely detailed novel, it's a tastefully old-fashioned adaptation, preserving the novel's flavor while focusing on its love story set against the turbulence of World War II. Set on the Greek island of Cephallonia, the drama begins in 1940 with occupation by Italian troops, awkwardly allied with the Nazis and preferring hedonistic friendliness over military intimidation. That attitude is most generously embodied by Captain Corelli (Nicolas Cage), who is instantly drawn to the Greek beauty Pelagia (Penélope Cruz) despite her engagement to Mandras (Christian Bale), a resistance fighter whose absence leaves Pelagia needy for affection. Mandras's eventual return--and the inevitable attack by German bombers and ground troops--threaten to stain this Greek-Italian romance with deeply tragic bloodshed.
Accompanied by pensive serenades from the captain's cherished mandolin, the film charts the unlikely attraction of Corelli and Pelagia, whose wizened physician father (splendidly played by John Hurt) fears for the worst. Their love is uneasy (and Cage's miscasting doesn't help), but the island's beguiling atmosphere is as seductive to them as it is to the viewer, thus making the outbreak of violence--and a climactic earthquake--jarringly traumatic. Emphasizing nobility in war and the many definitions of love, the story's wartime context intensifies the film's admirable depth of emotion. Faults will be found by anyone who's looking for them, but Captain Corelli's Mandolin remains a sensuous, richly layered film that die-hard romantics will find hard to resist. --Jeff Shannon

The title of Gothika prepares you for a spooky, atmospheric thriller with an emphasis on supernatural mystery. The best way to appreciate the movie itself is to understand that it's a waking nightmare that needn't make sense in the realm of sanity. Making a flashy Hollywood debut after his superior 2000 thriller Crimson Rivers, French actor-director Mathieu Kassovitz pours on the dark and stormy atmosphere, trapping a competent psychologist (Halle Berry) in the prison ward where she treated inmates (including Penelope Cruz) until she was committed for killing her husband (Charles S. Dutton), who was also her boss. Did a car crash cause her to suffer ghostly delusions, or is a young girl--dead for four years--sending clues from beyond the grave? Berry has to prove her innocence while Kassovitz keeps everything--including the viewer and costar Robert Downey Jr. (as Berry's colleague)--in the dark about just where the nonsensical plot is leading. There's a better movie in here somewhere, among the catwalks and crannies of the impressive prison-castle setting, and Berry gives 100% in a performance that's consistent with the movie's overwrought tone. Attentive viewers will identify the killer early on, and the ending is anticlimactic, but Gothika serves up a few good shocks for ghost-story connoisseurs. --Jeff Shanno

Woman on Top pretends to be your standard fish-out-of-water romantic comedy laced with touches of magic realism. When you break it down and look at its elements, however, it turns out to be different than most, which is good. Hot Spanish star Penélope Cruz (All About My Mother) plays Isabella Oliveira, a Brazilian chef who falls madly in love with, and marries, a dashing waiter (Murilo Benício). Throughout her life she's been a victim of motion sickness, and the only way she can overcome it is by being in control, whether it's driving or being on top during sex. Her husband starts to feel that as a threat to his Latin masculinity, and when he steps out on her, she catches him. She decides to leave Brazil and stop loving him, ending up in San Francisco with an old friend (Harold Perrineau Jr.), now a drag queen. There she meets a nice guy-television producer (Mark Feuerstein), who sets her up with her own cooking show. Normally in this kind of movie his character would be the perfect antidote for her heartbreak, but he ends up more seduced by the success of her cooking show than by her. When her husband shows up, she becomes trapped in a love triangle where both men are deeply flawed. Can she forgive her husband's infidelity and fall back in love with him? Forget the answer. The fact that the question is being asked separates Woman on Top from the other broad, romantic comedies that share its tone. Plus it's chock-full of seductive Brazilian music. --Andy Spletzer