Giddy. Giddy is a simple description (but not the manliest) of how the Oscar contending film, The Artist made me feel inside, when seeing it last night. The film takes the traditional tropes of the silent film era and makes them fresh, introducing them to the 21st century (sometimes even a new audience, like my wife). “Mugging” for the camera, outrageous Hollywood plot, and even a cute dog, all this movie needed was a cute orphan and racial insensitivity, I would swear it was actually made in the era the film depicts.
The film is written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius with a keen eye for detail. French actor Jean Dujardin, who collaborated with Hazanavicius on two OSS 117 spy satires (which if you haven’t seen, are ready for your viewing pleasure on Netflix), is brilliant as George Valentin, the star of countless silent-movie epics. George resists the efforts of studio chief Al Zimmer (scene-stealer John Goodman) to try talkies. George is sparked by Peppy Miller (the breath-taking beauty Bérénice Bejo), a bit player who hits it big in the sound era while George's career crumbles. Only Clifton ( James Cromwell), his driver, and the star's dog Uggy, his Jack Russell terrier( Thin Man fans UNITE!) stick with George through his fall. It takes Peppy, to save the man she loves.
Gorgeous ,and obviously, painstakingly shot by cinematographer Guillaume Schiffman, with a score by Ludovic Bource that is still ringing in my ears, The Artist is every reason I ever went to the movies: bawdy humor, over-the-top action, impossible romance, and the always awesome happy ending. I was really glad I got to share this with my wife (her first silent film), hope this opens others minds up to an older, gentler era of film-making. 4 star flick for me.
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