A charmer from Woody Allen, who here takes two recurring tenets of his work—the rationality of atheism and the innate irrationality of love—and blends them in a frothy romantic-comedy with roots in 1930s screwball. A beautiful Emma Stone is an up-and-coming new psychic and Colin Firth is the famous professional magician who can deconstruct any deception. He makes it his mission over the course of a trip to the English countryside circa 1928 to debunk her powers. His first problem: She’s so good that he’s stumped. His second problem: As he observes her and verbally spars with her in opulent estate rooms and at glittering nighttime parties, he begins to fall in love. Stone is a little Myrna Loy here, luminous and lovable even when we don’t trust her and comfortable with sarcasm. Meanwhile, Firth is appropriately stodgy and comically tortured as a man who sees himself as a model of rational thinking in a world of inferiors. And Woody Allen is Woody Allen, making the kind of film that only he would make, where light meringue-like comedy sits pretty next to cynical discussion of life’s Big Questions about death and deities.