Gertrude Stein didn't look like Kathy Bates. Ditto Salvador Dali and Adrien Brody, Zelda Fitzgerald and Alison Pill, Ernest Hemingway and Corey Stoll, respectively. Throughout "Midnight in Paris," Woody Allen never cares to explain exactly how a car shows up at the witching hour and transports screenwriter/fledgling novelist Gil (Owen Wilson) to the City of Lights in an era gone by. It just happens.
And it's wonderful.
The best way to view "Midnight in Paris" is with a grain of salt and an open mind. It doesn't matter what sort of time warp allows Gil to hobnob with the literary and artistic greats of 1920's Paris, not to mention dally with the mysterious Adriana (Marion Cotillard, grave even through her breeziness), who also yearns for a simpler time. All that matters is Gil's escape from the Paris of today and, with it, his shrill fiancee (Rachel McAdams), her cartoonishly conservative parents, and her pal Paul (Michael Sheen), who is such a blowhard he corrects a tour guide at the Rodin sculpture garden. All that matters is Gil's renewed creativity, sense of fun and even wider-eyed look at a city that is truly magic.
The cult hit series "Mystery Science Theater 3000" commanded in its opening theme: "just repeat to yourself, 'It's just a show, I should really just relax.' " In that respect, "Midnight in Paris" is just a movie. Relax. And enjoy, s'il vous plait.