Countdown to the new Woody Allen movie. First The New Yorker got all rhapsodic about “Vicky Christina Barcelona,” which made me very very excited—especially the bits about “natural-born lover” Javier Bardem. But then, the confusingly separate New York Magazine just offered up a swipe-slash-homage to the top Ten Woody Allen Sex Scenes Better Than the Ones in “Vicky Christina Barcelona” that seems to denegrate the new offering. Though I generally frown upon veiled Woody disses, I have committed every detail of this essential video montage to memory. Besides, how can anyone be expected to top the excellence of neurotic flight suit wearing, harmonica playing, bespectacled spermlets over 35 years after the fact? Clearly, what’s done is brill and that man’s a hero. I can’t wait to see what he’s got next.