Sweeping views of the Riviera and the charming lighting used to illuminate the already beautiful Emma Stone was possibly the only seductive quality of Woody Allen’s recently released, Magic in the Moonlight.
The film surrounds a gradual romance between Stanley, a magician who performs under the stage name of ‘Wei Ling Soo‘ and a young medium, Sophie Baker. Their paths collide when the disguised Stanley is summoned to prove the fraudulent activity of Miss Baker towards the wealthy Cataledge family who claims she can connect with their earlier ancestors.
Allen’s ‘awkward conversationalist’ approach in Colin Firth’s performance lead to a script being constructed without a single-punch line for the protagonist and the romance with Sophie to be painfully forced. I wanted to be in love with their love story, I did.
Woody Allen is possibly one of the most iconic directors of his time and I only see this as a ‘bruise’ in his long line of success, one which will heal. He has still maintained his periodic beauty that was seen and loved in Midnight in Paris and worked his branded humour into the scenes as much as he could but there was just something lacking in what is usually perfection with Allen.
All in all, the actors graced the screens and made us envious of their clothes and Volkswagens but I failed to come out of the cinema with a sense of there being any ‘magic in the moonlight’.