The Artist.
1927. Hollywoodland. Egotistical silent movie star George Valentin basks in a standing ovation from the audience at his newest film’s premiere while his jealous costar watches on in the wings, angrily awaiting her share of the praise. Women clamour to be near George outside the venue; one such woman, Peppy Miller, slips through and kisses George on the cheek, to the joy of the onlooking press. When a picture of Peppy and George appears on the front of the newspaper the following morning, George’s wife is, unsurprisingly, upset. Spurred on by this taste of fame, Peppy auditions for, and receives, a role in the next George Valentin picture; the producer, Al Zimmer, is furious that Peppy and George’s antics have overshadowed the release of his film and so orders Peppy off set, George however demands she stay and, though she is only an extra, there is visible chemistry between them. Two years pass and Peppy’s career moves from strength to strength as she makes her way up the billing, George however, reluctant to accept the change from silent movies to talkies, sees his career, and life, collapse around him. Their lives are on diverging paths but will Peppy be able to repay the faith showed in her by her idol before it’s too late? The Artist is an homage, possibly more a love letter, to a bygone era of cinema, that is at times charmingly funny, heartbreakingly tragic and wonderfully warm. A beautiful score conveys much of the emotion and tone, and stunningly impressive visuals display the serious effort undertaken to recreate the look of the silent era, together producing a novel concept but questions remain whether there is anything deeper than the melodrama on show. Not forgettable, but not wholeheartedly memorable either. Apart from the dog. The dog steals the show.
Moneyball.
October 2001. Underdogs, the Oakland Athletics, narrowly lose to baseball behemoths, the New York Yankees in the American League Division Series. With their star players expected to sign lucrative deals at other clubs, the future of the Oakland A’s falls to ambitious general manager Billy Beane, who must be inventive in rebuilding his squad for the coming season, since they are incapable of competing financially with their rivals. The scouts on which Billy relies on for finding talent make their decisions based on experience and “intuition”, he knows firsthand that this technique isn’t infallible as he himself was scouted out of high school, yet his playing career didn’t live up to his expected potential. In a meeting to discuss trades with the Cleveland Indians, Billy notices the Indians’ owner acts upon advice by young assistant, Peter Brand, a Yale economics graduate who believes an epidemic exists in baseball whereby owners are more concerned with signing big name players than they are winning games. Billy makes his first investment in improving the A’s team, hiring Peter as an analyst who overlooks perceived flaws in favour of unbiased statistics. Billy’s scouts are split on his decision to sign misfit players and expectations are low ahead of the 2002 season, but this David v Goliath story will send shockwaves through baseball and beyond. What seems a tedious concept for a film is in fact a surprisingly thrilling true underdog story, the influence of which is still seen today. While the subplot of Billy Beane’s marriage and parenthood is a little flimsy and the film could probably do without it, the rest of Moneyball is a gripping a sports movie as you could wish for.
Tyrannosaur.
Joseph, a violent, aggressive, alcoholic, unemployed widow, hides in a charity shop after attacking three young men in a pub and throwing a brick through a shop window; Hannah, a sympathetic, devout Christian and employee of said charity shop, shelters Joseph and prays for him. Joseph remains with Hannah until the shop closes but is attacked as he walks home alone. Returning to the shop after he wakes, Joseph cynically berates and mocks Hannah’s perceived comfortable, privileged life on a well-off estate, her religion, and the fact she can’t have kids. It may not be a question of whether she can’t have kids, more whether she won’t, as her vile bastard of a husband routinely abuses her. Joseph and Hannah form an unlikely relationship, with the former attempting to work on his anger issues and turn his life around, while the former lives in constant fear of her husband and wants to escape altogether. Paddy Considine’s directorial debut, Tyrannosaur, is beautiful, horrific, harrowing, sickening, moving, visceral and powerfully brutal. Wonderfully acted all round, Peter Mullan and Olivia Colman are perfectly cast as the two leads, delivering unforgettable performances worthy of any, and every, award possible. Bleak realism is the order of the day for a film that reflects on the excruciatingly tough to watch themes of mental health issues and domestic abuse.
A Separation.
Desperate to leave Iran, a “country in a desperate situation”, with her eleven year-old daughter Termeh, Simin files for divorce from her husband, Nader, after he refuses to leave their home country due to his elderly Alzheimer’s suffering father. The case, however, is dismissed by a judge, deeming Simin’s reasons for the separation insufficient. With Simin moving back in with her parents, Termeh elects to stay with her father, while Nader hires a lower class, deeply religious, pregnant woman, Razieh, to care for his father while he’s at work. Though her family is financially dependent on the job, Razieh considers quitting since she is unsure which aspects of the job her religion allows her to perform, the job itself is physically and mentally demanding, her commute is long, and her husband, Hojjat, is unaware of her employment. Tragedy strikes when Razieh leaves Nader’s father alone, tied to the bedpost, for a few hours. Secrets, lies and misunderstandings cause the lives of all involved to come crashing down. Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi’s thrilling courtroom drama of-sorts is, on the surface, a simple concept but underneath lies a complex inspection of morality, ethics as well as Iranian culture and Iran’s justice system. Such is the realism in the actor’s performances, the way they are photographed and the believability of the situation, you would be forgiven for thinking this were a documentary. Rightfully regarded as one of the best films of 2011, A Separation is a gripping, thought-provoking, nuanced story of love, lies and loss.
Incendies.
Canadian twins, Jeanne and Simon Mawan, await the reading of their mother’s will by her employer and family friend, Jean Lebel. Nawal’s final wishes are unusual, she requests to be buried naked, without a coffin or a gravestone, unless her children fulfil her instructions and find their believed-to-be dead father and their mysterious brother, whose existence Jeanne and Simon were previously unaware of. Simon, glad to be rid of his difficult relationship with his mother and her seemingly odd personality, refuses her wishes condemning them as crazy, while Jeanne attempts to track down her father in Nawal’s Middle Eastern home country. In her youth, Nawal brought shame to her Christian Arab family by falling for Muslim refugee, Wahab, and becoming pregnant with his baby. Spared by her grandmother on the promise that she leave the village in pursuit of a better life, Nawal is forced to give up her baby at birth and moves to a city to start her new life. Nawal’s search for her child amid a civil war is told in parallel to Jeanne’s pursuit of her father and brother, the daughter discovering secrets from her mother’s past with every person she meets. A compelling, tad melodramatic, thriller mystery, Denis Villeneuve’s Incendies is a sublime tragedy that preaches religious tolerance and forgiveness. The juxtaposition of tracks from Radiohead’s Amnesia (see 2001 for more on that) against the unknown Middle Eastern world deliberately jar, forcing an outside sense of perspective, while elegant camera work yields a work of art in every frame, seemingly a recurring theme of Villeneuve’s. A revelation of revelations.
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