Flipping around my 500 cable stations (480 or so unwatchable and unwanted) the other evening, I stumbled on a recent Woody Allen movie, “Midnight in Paris.” The plot is sweet and simple, somehow managing to retain its realism while treading far into the realm of fantasy.
The main character is a screenwriter vacationing in Paris. One night, while walking alone in the city in search of inspiration, he is spirited away by a group of party-goers who take him back in time to the 1920s. The premise of the movie, according to several reviewers, is that we are always longing for some sort of “golden age” that we perceive to be far different and far better—often, far ...