In Which We Follow the Curve of Scarlett Johansson's Thingy

The thing about Scarlett’s performance in Vicky Christina Barcelona is it’s second verse, same as the first. As sensual beast, she devours. But only for a few fleeting moments at a time. Over the course of 2 hours, she’s always better as disaffected, but hopeful hipster. One assumes, because that’s precisely what she is. She re-records Tom Waits song with TVOTR. She lobbies for Barack. She’s high fashion, but not too high. When Bardem approaches her and Rebecca Hall’s character in Vicky Christina she looks curious about the potential, a touch hungry for him and wide-eyed in her quest for new. But any time a crisis—nay a conflict—arises she ceases to be believable. Maybe because it’s hard to believe someone so lusted after could have problems that couldn’t be solved by a Marc Jacobs ad. That that object could have a troubled emotional core. Or maybe she’s just a bad actress. Kim Basinger was pretty bad for a long time, too. Then they gave her an Oscar when she got older.