Screwball comedy offers sporadic magic

AFTER THE dramatic heights of last year’s Blue Jasmine, Woody Allen’s next project always had a hard act to follow.

And so it is that the 78-year-old director’s 44th film in 48 years is a far more frothy confection.

Set in the south of the France in the roaring 1920s, Magic in the Moonlight is the story of one man’s attempts to expose a young spirit medium.

Stanley Crawford (Colin Firth) is himself no stranger to deception, touring the world as Eastern magician Wei Ling Soo, but prides himself in being able to unmask frauds. A genius, perfectionist, but with ‘‘all the charm of a typhus epidemic’’, Crawford is persuaded by his old school friend Howard Burman (Simon McBurney) that Sophie Baker (Emma Stone) possesses skills worthy of his critical attention. The talk of the Cote D’Azure, she has bewitched the wealthy Catledge family with her abilities, and despite Burman’s best efforts he hasn’t been able to find a flaw or suspicious move.

Driven by a terrific John Cleeseesque performance by Firth (television’s Pride and Prejudice, Bridget Jones’ Diary) at his cynical Darcyesque best, Magic works best during its screwball comedy moments. Firth and the spunky Stone ( Easy A) spark easily off one another as they battle wits and wills.

Allen proves he still has an ear for delicious bon mots and the skill to deliver pacy, punchy dialogue, even if behind the magical facade there is a sense of deja vu. The magic theme brings to mind 2006’s Scoop, while the meditations on the nature of love evokes memories of 2009’s Whatever Works.

The French setting is sumptuous and the strong supporting cast all get a chance to shine, albeit briefly. That’s because this really is Firth’s film. If at times Magic threatens to descend into what Crawford would call ‘‘a seductive morass of sugar-coated claptrap’’, it’s saved by the British actor’s curmudgeonly charisma and his character’s inability to skilfully bottle up his sarcasm.