Oh it was such a good movie. I had been wanting (past perfect progressive - remember?) to see it and finally did yesterday. I'm glad I went because it won't be in the theaters much longer, in fact, I was the only patron in attendance at yesterday's matinee. Vicki Christina Barcelona was such a delight. I think now that Woody Allen has realized he doesn't need to star in his own films that they are better. And though I don't think it dislodged Hannah and Her Sisters from the perch of "my favorite Woody Allen film", it's probably a close second. He writes real life fairy tales. Fairy tale because the characters are always so unfettered by things like working for a living and instead focused on the nature of their hearts. Real life because he writes so truthfully about the inability to define love and the inexplicability of the behaviour induced by one's heart. Also, this one had a narrator. I've decided I like that device. Anyway, as soon as it finished I was tempted to stay there and watch it right over again.
When I arrived at the theater I inquired if coffee was available at the concession stand. The nice girl informed me that it was available and then added that it wasn't very good. I stood for a moment wondering why she would say such a thing. I asked if it were permitted to bring a coffee in from outside. As I recall in the states, this is verboten. She lowered her voice as if to tell me a secret and said, "Yes, yes you can. You can bring anything in." So I went across the street to Starbucks, merely because it was the closest, and procured a grande corsé, then because "anything" was still banging around in my head, I grabbed a date bar. Still, I felt a little guilty when I went in with the coffee (I had discreetly put the date bar in my coat pocket) but then assuaged my guilt by remembering the $10 matinee pricetag. I remember paying seventy five cents for a matinee as a kid.