Midnight Magic in Paris

I must say, Midnight in Paris is like opening a time capsule with Woody Allen’s quirky touch all over it. It’s got that whimsical charm wrapped in nostalgia, you know, like finding an old vinyl at a flea market in Södermalm. You’ve got Owen Wilson doing his best as Gil, and there’s that spark, like he’s channeling a bit of Allen himself.

Then there’s the fabulous Marion Cotillard – she’s got that je ne sais quoi, right? – who just drips elegance from every frame. And who could forget Adrien Brody’s Picasso? Hilarious! It’s those kind of moments that keep you glued despite some meandering plot bits. It felt pretentious sometimes, I’ve got to admit, but isn’t that just a part of Parisian charm?

A Nostalgic Trip

Listening to Cole Porter in the background, I almost felt transplanted to my own golden era – which would probably be the 70s, somewhere in a smoky Stockholm cinema, catching a Bergman film. Those golden hues in the film felt like summer nights in Gotland, a bit surreal and comforting.

I remember taking a trip to Paris one grey October. Walking by the Seine with a crêpe in hand, it made me crave the city more, like a ‘kanelbulle’ on a dreary afternoon. The film brings that longing back again, the wistful idea of how the past always seems rosier than the present.

But – and there’s always a but, right? – the film can feel like a one-trick pony at times. Fancy cameos and all, but the magic spell falter once the novelty wears off. Still, for the romantics, it’s a feast!

There’s just something universal about wondering if any era feels truly perfect, or if we’re just lost in translation. If you love films that whisk you away, with a sprinkle of humor and a drop of fantasy, Midnight in Paris might just be your cup of bryggkaffe.

Check the trailer below