Category Archives: French

Movie Review: The Artist

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Who would have thought that a modern black and white silent film could be funnier and more entertaining than most films made with sound and color nowadays? Sound might have been improved film, but “The Artist” proves that a step back into silence every once in a while isn’t such a bad thing.

For anyone resistant to seeing a silent film, “The Artist” is only partly one. It incorporates the orchestra that would usually play live alongside a silent film as well as a few incredibly clever sound tricks. “The Artist” is an “I’m big, it’s the pictures that got small” story about silent star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), with a last name evoking Rudolph Valentino and a mustache and toothy grin evoking Clark Gable. In 1927, Valentin’s Hollywood career is soaring. He stars mainly in action and romantic pictures which usually boast names such as “A Russian Affair” and “A Chinese Affair.” His dog, who is always on his side in both movies and in life, probably plays dead better than most dogs.

Movies are all about those little coincidences that, like a butterfly effect, later have a huge impact. After leaving one of his premieres, Valentin bumps into a fan (Berence Bejo) with a made-for-Hollywood name: Peppy Miller. Her name, and pictures of the glance that the two exchange, is all over the tabloids the next day. In order to get closer to George, Peppy auditions to be a dancer in his next movie. As she gets her start, George teaches Peppy the most important rule in being a successful actor: look distinct.

Around the same time that Peppy becomes a household name, the cigar wielding studio head (John Goodman, perfect for the role) decides that silent movies are out, and talkies are in. George wants absolutely no part in the talkies, and he pays the price for his arrogance. The inside of the studio is shown in one scene as a never-ending staircase in which people constantly walk up, but rarely down, like the Hollywood machine that mass produces movies and stars. Valentin becomes just another piece of unnecessary inventory.

“The Artist” is both a satire of the way movies are made and a movie with the broadest of plots and characters. Archetypes are usually unacceptable to me but here, they are just so lovingly that they actually work. As a movie star, George Valentin has no singular appeal, as he can play both a swashbuckling action hero and a dazzling romantic. These roles only seem to suit him in silent movies, and his fear of speaking makes his attempted comeback all the more difficult.

When the new form of motion picture medium first developed, the early filmmakers were like magicians constantly trying to play tricks on audiences. “The Artist” revives that spirit of visual trickery that is so often missing from today’s movies. Some see 3D as a new form of this. What “The Artist” shows is that the image of a woman putting her arm through a man’s jacket and moving it around can give off the appearance that it is actually someone else’s arm. That didn’t even require a pair of 3D glasses.

“The Artist” plays many more tricks with sound, both silent and audible. With one very subtle yet shocking clank, sound is brought to a silent world. A title card that reads “Why won’t you talk?” could be considered hilarious despite the dramatic nature of the scene that it is placed in. Another card that appears at the movie’s most thrilling moment, which I will not spoil here, will leave you relieved and stunned. You’ll be relieved at what it really means, and stunned as to how easy it is to play with words.

Watching a silent movie is a totally different viewing experience. A silent movie will make even the most casual viewer pay more attention, as actions and gestures are the only things guiding the way. Audiences in the 1920s must have been some of the most engaged moviegoers there were. By bringing together silence and sound, “The Artist” ties the past and present together. Silence might enhance viewing in several ways but in a way, movies were never meant to be silent. After all, every silent movie was accompanied by a live orchestra. A moving image can only go so far.

“The Artist” also uses the silence as a sense of humor. The cue cards, perfect in their font, display dialogue that is both hilarious and thoughtful, and not just plot focused. Writer-director Michel Hazanavicius makes the style fit into every ounce of the overall theme.

Anyone can make a silent movie. The true achievement of “The Artist” is how it gives this old technology a raison d’etre. Some characters were just meant to be seen as silent. Looking past the silent element of “The Artist” is a movie that is funny and entertaining in the most timeless sense possible. The mark of most great movies is that you never want them to end. “The Artist” may be one of the year’s best movies, but its biggest problem is that it begins to lag on in its third act. The darkest portion of the film begins to feel contrived and repetitive after a while, basically bringing down everything the movie had so beautifully built up.


But then, “The Artist” miraculously saves itself in its closing minutes with a few final lines that basically define the entire movie: clever, but not at all snarky. Just as seen in “The Artist,” the Hollywood studio machine churns out an uncountable amount of movies every year. Few rarely stick. Every once in a while, a movie like “The Artist” comes along in which you wish the characters would dance off the screen and into your own lives. Maybe it helps when that machine is French. 


If you liked this movie, you’ll also like: Singin’ in the Rain, Sunset Boulevard, Barton Fink, Modern Times, Citizen Kane, Hugo, Midnight in Paris

Movie Review: Hugo

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Even this late in his career, Martin Scorsese can still reinvent himself, even if it means not changing at all.

“Hugo,” based on the award-winning children’s book “The Invention of Hugo Cabret” by Brian Selznick, is the rare PG-rated Scorsese film. However, that does not make it a children’s movie as many have labeled it. “Hugo” is for everyone.
“Hugo” is mechanical, yet magical. In the early 1930s, Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives inside the walls of a Parisian train station, operating all of the station’s clocks. He has been doing this ever since his father (Jude Law) died and left him as an orphan. His life inside the walls gives him an innate ability to sneak around totally undetected. He steals in order to get by, which puts him at constant odds with the scheming and ill-tempered station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen). As the inspector, Cohen looks like a more over-the-top version of Charles De Gaulle.
All that Hugo has left of his father is a broken automaton which he spends his spare time trying to fix. He steals parts from, and eventually gets caught by, George Melies (Ben Kingsley). That name doesn’t mean a lot to young Hugo at first, but he later discovers that he is none other than the legendary pioneer of filmmaking himself. Melies was one of the first filmmakers to figure out that moving pictures could tell stories.
“Hugo” is based on a book and its about the power of imagination, but it is also about Scorsese’s love of movies. At one point, Hugo takes of Melies’s daughter Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz) to see a movie in order to cheer her up. He believes that the movie theater is the only place where he can escape from reality. Viewers will also be treated to a history of film as well as footage from several key movies of the silent era. “Hugo” is a film buff’s dream come true.
From looking at the early movies shown in “Hugo,” there really was magic in them. The less realistic the special effects were, the more creative and deceptive filmmakers could be. Melies was equal parts filmmaker and magician.
Early silent films involved many tricks to feign depth and perspective. “Hugo” itself attempts this, and it contains some of the best 3D there has ever been. The third dimension is usually wasted by those who don’t understand the potential of it. In “Hugo,” 3D is not a gimmick but rather a way to add a layer of physical depth, and make this complex world of mazes and winding staircases even more immersive. I am not a cheerleader for the cause of 3D. However, if more directors used 3D the way Scorsese does here, then perhaps this new trend won’t necessarily spell the demise of movies as we know them.
As with any great movie, none of the special effects would mean anything if they did not support a great story. “Hugo” is an uplifting fantasy that is also very real. It balances out its darkest moments with comedy. Best of all, “Hugo” is not just about Hugo. The longer the audience spends in the train station, the more it gets to know the characters that occupy it. The subplots involving the inspector’s attempt to woo the flower shop owner (Emily Mortimer) and another including an old man at odds with a small dog are entertaining and actually tie in with the story as a whole. These segments of “Hugo” reminded me of the subplots seen in the windows of the apartment complex in “Rear Window.” Neither of these movies would be able to function without their settings, or the variety of people who occupy them.
The latter part of Scorsese’s career has been a mixed bag. While he won his first Oscar in 2006 for “The Departed,” few of his latest efforts have matched the brilliance of his earlier efforts. “Hugo” is his finest achievement in years, but there is just no way to compare it to his earlier works. There is nothing wrong with creating something that defies comparison.
Even if no one is shot in the head or shoved into the trunk of a car, “Hugo” could only have been made by Scorsese. His version of Paris transforms the City of Lights into something much grittier. The Paris of “Hugo” looks more like New York via “Gangs of New York”: snowbound, destitute, and industrial. Then there is Hugo’s world, which is one marked only by turning gears, with the great city surrounding him being just outside his reach. The only light of hope that ever shines is from a film projector.
In a way, Hugo is Scorsese in his youth. During his childhood on the mean streets of Little Italy, the movies were his only means of escape. Even as time passes, movies will always remain. The fact that “Hugo” is about a young boy saving the lost films of a once great artist is the kind of warm, moving act that doesn’t usually occur in a movie directed by Martin Scorsese. Even though “Hugo” claims that humans are just parts of the larger machine of the world, that can’t explain the feeling of being moved to tears by the movie’s end.
There is a scene in “Hugo” where Hugo and Isabelle watch “A Trip to the Moon” for the first time, and learn that each frame was colorized individually by hand. In the present, a camera can do that, and a computer can create any special effect imaginable. Therefore, it is hard for any movie made today to ever feel hand-crafted. When as much care, love, and devotion goes into making something like “Hugo,” it is then that the director’s, and not a computer’s, fingerprints are all over it. This is one of the best movies of the year.
As a side note, has anyone noticed that whenever a major movie is released that takes places in a foreign country but is spoken in English, all of the characters have British accents? When will Hollywood get that people can tell the difference between a French accent and a British accent?
Here are links to some of the silent movies featured in “Hugo”:
The Great Train Robbery (There is an allusion to the final shot at the end of “Goodfellas”)

Movie Review: Babies

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Babies. Those little bundles of joy. Those little creatures who can also terrorize your life. Do they really deserve their own film? “Babies” manages to prove that, beyond the cries and the screams, their is depth.

Despite running well under 90 minutes, “Babies” is quite the epic of a documentary. It spans three continents, four countries, and multiple years. The point of the film is to document the beginning of a human life in every part of the world. One baby comes from a small village in Namibia. Another comes from the Mongolian steppes. In contrast, the final two come from the bustling urban metropolises of Tokyo and San Francisco.
French director Thomas Balmes guides the audience through the critical stages of an early life. Much time is spent on birth, first words, and of course, the first steps. Despite devoting much time on these important moments, Balmes does a very French thing and brings us through many small moments that have no true impact on a life, yet are so poignant for that reason alone. One of the most memorable of these moments include the Mongolian baby waking up to find a rooster in his bed. It’s never mentioned again, and it does nothing to show the baby growing up, yet its just so unique in how much detail is paid to that one little snippet we never see again.
There is one thing “Babies” truly has going for it: how expertly edited it is. Balmes likely had hundreds of hours of remarkable footage to use, and certainly a wonder how he was able to narrow it down to just 79 minutes. It must’ve been a painstaking process, yet he certainly took all of the effort to choose exactly all of the right shots.
The editors also knew quite well how certain shots and scenes should align with one another. Many are placed next to each other to either show differences or similarities. We see that in every culture, sibling rivalries exist. We also see that in every culture, each mother has her own way of teaching her child about the world. This supports the film’s main idea: everyone is brought into the world blank, and comes out differently from what they see, and what they experience. It’s a simple idea that’s supported with the help of a lot of complex imagery.
Yes, that imagery. It’s striking. While it’s always interesting to see what the babies are doing, Balmes likes to explore the territory they’re in. He finds us a river in the middle of the Namibian desert, and a lush park amongst the urban sprawl of Tokyo. These shots, the ones we never see, are the kind of shots a good documentary filmmaker should capture, and never let go of.
If there’s one complaint most people seem to have about “Babies,” it’s that it’s virtually devoid of any speaking. There is some background speaking, but mainly there’s the mumbling and grumbling of the babies. This factor serves to be both a positive and negative aspect of the film. I don’t think it would’ve been much trouble for Balmes to add in subtitles or just a short voiceover to at least explain a few things. Because these things are missing, the film, at times can just feel like a compilation of home movies.
However, when examining the film from a more critical perspective, perhaps this was done in order to make the world as fresh, new, and confusing as a baby would see it. Perhaps that lack of dialogue is to fully emphasize the action occurring on screen, and allowing character to build through these actions. Maybe Balmes wanted the moments where the babies first walk to feel like skeleton thrashing scene in “2001: A Space Odyssey” or the scene when Daniel drags himself out of well, leg broken, in “There Will Be Blood.” At a point like that, who cares what some dialogue could say about it? The images speak for themselves.
“Babies” does exactly what it sets out to do: show the things that make us different and make us the same through the use of babies. If you were looking for the interior monologue of a baby, then maybe you should watch “Baby Geniuses” instead. “Babies” is an exploration of the beginnings of a human mind. It’s like “March of the Penguins” for babies.