Woody Allen's films always go through the usual scoring: His best since X, worst since Y, funniest since Z. It's not unfair - the prolific New York filmmaker has always been consistent with his themes and obsessions. But if Allen's tics and tricks, including an irritating, unnecessary narrator, can be gotten past in the first third of "Vicky Cristina Barcelona," there are two stormy performances from Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz that elevate Allen's melancholy thoughts on love and relationships

Bardem is Juan Antonio, a life-loving Spanish painter who propositions two young Americans, Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) during their stay in Barcelona. Vicky - who comes from the Jessica Harper school of Allen heroines - is level-headed and soon to be married. Cristina is wild and hungry for new experiences (and actually would be only friends with Vicky in a movie).

Cristina becomes Juan Antonio's live-in girlfriend and muse until Maria Elena (Cruz), his unhinged ex-wife, shows up fresh from a suicide attempt. However, Cristina turns out to be a balancing presence, and they begin a ménage à trois - until Vicky realizes her visiting business-clod fiancé (Chris Messina) is missing the ingredient she needs, and thinks she's found in Juan Antonio.

None of these sexual roundelays are new for Allen, and the thumbnail sketch of "fiery" Spaniards whose artistic temperaments spur their paintings is decidedly romantic though tiringly obvious. Still, Bardem and Cruz have a dynamic physical humor; they bob and weave and spin and curse, fighting for the proper opening from which to throw a dagger from their eyes, or a paint-splattered backhand. She's twitchy, he's sultry, and they save the movie.

And like the about-to-settle Vicky, it needs saving. So often now Allen's scripts ring false coming from his performers' mouths, and resemble some kind of Woody Allen acting workshop (it was especially noticeable in last year's "Cassandra's Dream, as well as 2005's overpraised "Match Point"). It's frankly surprising that Johansson is his new favorite lead; the pillowy actress is lovely yet never sounds comfortable saying Allen's words.

Hall fares slightly better - mainly because her character isn't just a passive observer - and this year's Best Supporting Actor Oscar-winner Bardem is always sharp and funny (even in dramatic roles). But Cruz is the real treat. Always better in Spanish films than in American ones, she eliminates the empty chirpiness and has a ball. In a movie about embracing love's unpredictability, Cruz is a beautiful spark.