This movie is a bizarre hodgepodge of classic Allen topics and the ancient slapstick comedies of Allen’s youth, all refracted through the lens of Allen’s old-age dementia. He’s got the absurdist story of the average guy who is suddenly famous for no reason; he has the guy who is a world-class opera singer, but only when he is in the shower, and how he becomes famous against the odds; he has the story of the newly-weds who are separated in Rome and  subjected to various silly moral tests, each involving fame or famous people; and then just for good measure he has a standard Allen tale of a normal (read: not famous) young couple, living the hippest part of Rome in a spectacular apartment, of course, who threaten to be torn apart when the girl’s best friend – a sultry, neurotic, head-case brunette who longs to be a famous actress (been a while since we’ve seen this old chestnut from Woody) – seduces the rather plain young man just by being her provocative self. The stories are told concurrently, and none are related to the others in any way.

So why is this film called To Rome with Love? Seems to me more like: To Rome with (or without) Fame! Still, my wife and I enjoyed this movie, maybe more than Midnight in Paris. Allen captured the beauty of Rome much better than he captured Paris, the worst of Allen’s artistic predilections as a filmmaker are absent (except that he obviously still thinks the idea of two women sleeping together is “edgy,”) and the four little stories are just plain unpretentious fun, and at the very least a refreshing change from the Rogen/Smith/Apatow comedy Juggernaut.

To Rome with Love is like wine that is slightly turned – still enjoyable, but clearly a decayed version of its former glory. I didn’t really laugh out loud in the film, so much as chuckle and grin a lot. Allen is still fun to watch as an actor, but this was his first film in which it was painfully clear that he’s lost a step, and the stories can at times feel a bit stilted. The writing is typical late-Woody Allen, but as with Midnight and Vicky, Christina, his mediocre and predictable dialog is partly redeemed by externally imposed affectation – in this case, listening to it rendered in semi-hysterical Italian. Still, whatever works, right?

This film did nothing to alter my opinion of Jesse Eisenberg or Ellen Page. Page is her usual self: great voice, great “porcelain waif” look, and acting so flat and lifeless it’s almost like she is reading cue cards. She is also as far from a femme fatale as is humanly possible. Greta Gerwig could have pulled off the role, however. In fact, Allen should have switched Page and Gerwig, and let Ellen play the boring, lifeless girlfriend of the geeky, singularly unattractive Eisenberg, while Greta played the sultry but neurotic temptress; that would have been a bit more believable.

Eisenberg also remains true to form as a one-trick pony: nervous twitching coupled with rapid-fire monotone delivery. Before I saw the film I thought he might be good playing the character Woody would have played 40 years ago, but unfortunately he’s nowhere near a young Woody Allen as an actor, lacking all of the latter’s comic flexibility, spontaneity, physical comic skill, expressive voice, and depth of presence. The only thing that saves their portion of the movie is Greta Gerwig (just because she is so fucking cool,) and Alec Baldwin, who it seems is doomed to be the greatest wise-cracking supporting actor in the history of cinema.

But what I walked out of the theater talking about was Alison Pill, and how she has somehow in this film stepped into the vacant, hollow shell of what should have been Kristen Bell’s career. Seriously, in To Rome with Love, Pill looks just like Bell, sounds just like Bell, acts just like Bell, and even has one slightly crooked eye just like Bell. Moreover, she exudes a charm and presence similar to Kristen Bell, the kind that could eventually lock down the interesting lead roles that Kristen Bell should be getting. Because I am a huge Alison Pill fan, I’m happy that Woody Allen is single-handedly resurrecting her career, which was heading no-where good after her brilliant turn in the all-time classic Dan and Real Life. But this latest trick – turning her into what Kristen Bell might have been – is shocking and unexpected; I’ll go further: she’s awesome as Kristen Bell! I sincerely hope that she uses this as a spring-board to have the brilliant career Kristen Bell should have had. I just feel sorry for poor Kristen Bell – why is she stuck playing dumb blondes in horrible movies after being so brilliant in Veronica Mars?

To Rome with Love is nice, puff pastry fun. I recommend it!