Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)

This time, the words really should be believed: a massive return to form for Woody Allen. No lie. At this rate, we might even forgive him for Cassandra’s Dream.

For all its meditations on romantic disappointments, this is a slight, sunny film. Anyone in need of some superior escapism should see it straightaway.

Woody Allen's new film, announced as a romantic comedy, is far superior to the disastrous Match Point and Cassandra's Dream but much inferior to his best work.

By the time Cruz appears, Vicky Cristina Barcelona has delivered on those initial good omens: it's Allen's best film in at least a decade.

Allen’s last couple of movies have been far from vintage offerings but Vicky Cristina Barcelona is pure pleasure and finds him back on form. It is smart, sunny, frisky and extremely funny.

No doubt about it, Allen’s latest throwaway rom-com is utterly silly, forgettable and predictable. It’s also his most purely entertaining film in years.

This is not as terrible as most of Allen's recent efforts, but it's thin to the point of scrawny, irksomely pseudo-intellectual and cringe-makingly creepy.

A sun-speckled slice of froth that’s very watchable, although it reveals little new about the mysteries of the human heart. It may be Allen’s best film in years – just don’t expect Annie Hall.