Does Woody Allen’s post-London Spain stop-off really revitalise his creative mojo? To a point, yes.

You know you’re in old-school Allenland when someone says “Let’s not get into one of those turgid categorical-imperative arguments.” Or when life-changing chance encounters occur in unlikely places. Mostly, though, it’s the breezy ease with which Allen balances comedy and drama that speaks volumes for his restorative romance with tourist-book España.

For starters, Allen’s fleet-footed script overcomes suspicions that it was produced via his computer’s PLIKAL (Posh-Liberal Intelligentsia Kvetch About Love) programme. It’s slight and sunny, but Allen doesn’t try to pass it off as tragedy or slapstick: instead, he deals this four-square bohemian dalliance for the Éric Rohmer-esque fling that it is.

Happily, the cast are on his page. Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson make light of opposing poles Americans abroad, Hall as a nervy-neurotic lady-Woody sort and Johansson as a faux free spirit.

Spain steals the movie, mind: Javier Bardem’s arty, seductive Spanish stereotype convinces against the odds, Penélope Cruz’s mid-film gatecrash ignites sparks and Barcelona looks lovely.

Allen juggles basic oppositions between body and soul, Europe and America, mind and passion here, but he doesn’t overstate or over-stretch the matter. He doesn’t fully relocate his ’70s/’80s relevance, either, but he does show sure-handedness and a light touch.

And after the career-crash of Cassandra’s Dream, that’s relief enough to whet appetites for his next movie, New York homecoming Whatever Works. Now, how about celebrating that one with some surprise DVD extras?