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because time machines aren’t pink enough?

Wouldn’t it be amazing if women protagonists had the opportunity to keep jumping back in time until they could get their lives just the way they want them? Ah, but that would require a movie with a female protagonist…

Midnight in Paris (review)

Midnight in Paris becomes the butt of its own gentle joke… perhaps the most Woody Allen joke ever, one that wraps up a paralyzing self-awareness in a redemptive self-deprecation to, finally and splendidly, laugh with great good humor at itself.