As charming as it may be, “Midnight in Paris” is not among Allen’s best. Even though it has most of the director’s trademarks (a neurotic, insecure main character; existential angst; infidelity and a touch of magic), it lacks the moral fiber and deep philosophical questioning of his better works.

Gil Pender (Owen Wilson), a successful Hollywood screenwriter is visiting Paris with his fiancée Inez (an effectively insufferable Rachel McAdams) and her wealthy—and equally insufferable—right wing parents. Gil regrets not staying in Paris when he had a chance earlier in his life and sees the trip as an opportunity to start his career as a novelist. However, Inez and her parents’ plans are not conducive to inspiration: all they want to do is shop, eat at fancy restaurants and see the occasional tourist attraction.

To make matters worse, they bump into Inez’s snobbish friends, Carol and Paul, who insist upon spending time with Gil and Inez. Paul (a wonderful Michael Sheen) is a pompous British Mr. Know-it-all that even corrects the guide at the Rodin museum (French first Lady Carla Bruni—Yes, you read that clearly—proof that in France cinema is considered as respectable as any state institution).

Naturally Gil can’t stand Paul and is jealous of the admiration that Inez professes of him. With such poor company, Gil has no choice but to escape in his imagination to the Paris of the 1920’s, populated with fascinating characters such as Ernest Hemingway, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, and Gertrude Stein, all of whom he befriends.

The theme of finding life puzzling and difficult is another Allen trademark, but the escape is trivial and offers no great insight. The impersonations of famous characters are good enough, but only Adrien Brody as Dali, Corey Stoll as Hemingway and Katy Bates as Stein are truly exceptional. Wilson himself is not particularly effective as Allen’s alter-ego and, at least physically, he seems to be more in the league of his frivolous California girlfriend.

On the other hand, Paul, a truly funny Allenesque creation, is not exploited enough.  Then there is the occasional anachronism, such as Hemingway taking off to Africa when his first trip to the continent did not take place until 1933.  “Midnight in Paris” is certainly entertaining and it might even please audiences that usually stay away from Allen’s darker and more intellectual fare, but if you want the “real” Allen better rent the undervalued “You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger,” which is out on DVD.