Spanish Fly Reviews

A moment please, for some immortal words from Dorothy Parker: "Higgamus, hogamus, higgamus, men are naturally polygamous. Hoggamus, higgamus, hoggamus, women are naturally monogamous." The unhappy feminist heroine of Daphna Kastner's second feature begs to differ, and consequently has a rough time trying to figure out why men and women can't just get along. American magazine writer Zoe (Kastner) is in Madrid, putatively working on some dopey book about machismo, based on an article she wrote for Vanity Fair. In between asking people silly questions about macho attitudes (a process hampered by the fact that Zoe scarcely speaks a word of Spanish), our intrepid authoress hooks up with Carl (Martin Donovan), an old college professor who now operates an English-Language bookstore in Madrid, and embarks on an uneasy flirtation with her translator Antonio (Toni Canto), an unreconstructed chauvinist but so hunky. Zoe also has to contend with her ex-boyfriend John (Danny Huston), who shows up in Madrid with his men's group, and her mother, who calls constantly to fret about Zoe being alone in Spain. We quickly learn that Zoe has some deep-rooted problems with men, most of which can be traced back to the Spanish father who abandoned her mother before Zoe was born. Kastner's clumsy romantic comedy features an interesting cast — though she herself is an exceptionally uninteresting actress — and lovely cinematography, but at its core it's deeply juvenile, like a glossy but painfully awkward student movie. And for all its feminist sentiments, it comes to the reactionary conclusion that Zoe's problem is that she just needs the good hot attention of the right man; who that man turns out to be will come as no surprise. (In English and Spanish, with English subtitles.)