So I started with Manhattan and Small Time Crooks and I was more than entertained. My mother, who had no idea that I had been spending my time at college watching movies, told me over the phone once about a new movie named Midnight In Paris I soon found out that Woody Allen had directed it.
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Considering that I was already on a roll with all of these movies and my picky mother herself said that the movie was “sweet,” I could not wait until I could watch the movie for myself.
I borrowed the DVD and slipped it into the CD player on my laptop the minute I got to my room. I fell in love with the Paris like I never have before. Images one after the other filled the screen.
Owen Wilson is the new Woody Allen. The awkward manner in which he walked and the way he constantly over analyzed things, was true to the character of the now 77 year old. Throughout the movie, Wilson’s character Gil is a man who is in love with the glorious 1920’s American literature age. His emotions and thoughts are at the center of the movie’s agenda the way a chick flick would be for it’s female lead. Because of people like Gil, women have begun to accept and even embrace a new definition of man. It has become alright that men should be emotional and be able to cry at any moment and movies like this have been crucial to this change in society. I don’t know how I feel about this change. Sometimes I wish men would just own their manhood and be more stable than a woman but then, too many times I’ve wished that men could be a little less brick-like. I guess that’s why the hybrid man was invented by society.