It’s been a while since I came away from a Woody Allen film without mixed feelings. Vicky Cristina seemed to have modest ambitions and achieved them with aplomb. I liked the schtick with the narrator, Barcelona was beautiful, the characters were endearing and believably flawed, the cast was amazing. Having most recently seen Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men I was also in a permanent state of pleasant surprise at his lack of ruthless killing.