
![]() ![]() ![]() The Artist       In 1927 Hollywood, George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), a huge star in silent romantic/adventure melodramas, lives a glamorous life with his loving wife, Doris (Penelope Ann Miller) and dog. He even has his own chauffeur, Clifton (James Cromwell). When producer Al Zimmer (John Goodman) shows him some clips of movies with sounds, a.k.a. “talkies,” a new format that will soon replace silent movies, George refuses to believe in the new technology, storms off and starts directing and starring in his own silent films. Meanwhile, as he falls from fame into despair and even bankruptcy during the Great Depression, his co-star Peppy Miller (Bérénice Béjo), rises to fame in Hollywood.       Shot in glorious black-and-white, The Artist will dazzle you with its visuals and captivate you with its lively performances so much that you’ll easily forget that it’s actually a silent movie and not in color. Writer/director Michel Hazanavicius imbues the film with a plethora of wit, charm, humor and a little poignancy along the way. Finding the right tone can be quite a challenge, but he achieves it above and beyond without it ever feeling uneven or over-the-top. The same can be said for the performances all across the board whether it’s the charismatic, playful Jean Dujardin, the sizzling and radiant Bérénice Béjo or even the cute little dog that would get a nomination if there were Best Performance by a Dog category at the Oscars.       A true classic movie is one that not only provokes you intelligently and emotionally while thoroughly entertaining you, but also takes some risks. The Artist certainly takes risks being a silent, black-and-white movie because there’s simply no other film like it in today’s world, unless you count the experimental films that aren’t exactly delightful or accessible for mainstream audiences. The risks this film takes pay off tremendously, and audiences will be rewarded with a sense of joy and exhilaration upon leaving the theater. At a running time of 1 hour and 40 minutes, The Artist is an invigorating, charming, witty and crowd-pleasing delight that’s destined to become a classic while skyrocketing the careers of Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Béjo. The Kid With a Bike       11-year-old Cyril (Thomas Doret) breaks out of an orphanage to find his father (Jérémie Renier) who had abandoned him. He desperately wants to live a normal life with his father, but he's unwilling to acknowledge the fact that his father doesn't want to see him anymore. He feels saddened when he learns that his bicycle had been sold by him--a metaphor for their relationship--so Cyril searches for that precious bike. A friendly hairdresser, Samantha (Cécile de France), not only helps him get his bike back, but also takes him under her care. She represents the small glimmer of hope, happiness, love, compassion and friendship that's missing from his life. No matter what, though, Cyril doesn't feel content without his father around, and he stubbornly refuses to give up attempting to reunite with him--or to face the harsh reality of the situation for that matter. He soon enters a dangerous lifestyle when he befriends a local thug, Wes (Egon Di Mateo), who teaches him how to beat people up and rob them, an extreme way of channeling his bottled-up rage and frustrations.       Co-writers/directors Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, a.k.a. The Dardenne Brothers, have woven a richly textured and human drama brimming with warmth, tenderness and pure, unadulterated poignancy. Rarely has a film captured the complex thoughts and feelings of a troubled young boy with such honesty without going over-the-top or losing its focus. It also helps that child actor Thomas Doret gives a brave, well-nuanced performance as Cyril that tugs at your heartstrings from the very first scene. Cyril's friendship with Samantha feels palpably sweet, and you'll find it interesting to observe how their relationship evolves as Cyril struggles to accept the fact that his father abandoned him. His emotional journey takes you on a roller coaster ride that's difficult to describe or even explain--it's best to simply experience it because words wouldn't be able to do it any justice. Moreover, the well-chosen music score perfectly compliments the film's tone and keeps you even further engrossed. This is Not a Film       Back in 2010, filmmaker Jafar Panahi was sentenced for six years in prison and banned from making movies for the next twenty years. Despite being under house arrest, Panahi, with the help of his friend, Mojtaba Mirtahmasb, filmed his daily life at home in Iran. Mirtahmasb filmed Panahi on a small digital video camera as Panahi discussed his process of filmmaking and analyzed scenes from the past films he had directed, i.e. The Circle, Crimson Gold, and Offside. If you haven't seen any of those films, this documentary will surely compel you to check them out. Panahi not only shares his thoughts and feels on his films, but also about art in general. From start to finish, he comes across as an intelligent, brave, curious and candid individual which makes him all the more engaging and poignant.       At its core, this documentary isn't really about Panahi; it's about the potency of art during time of oppression, and about how important it is to overcome one's fear and express his/her thoughts and feelings openly. The fact that Panahi achieved all of that while knowing that he could be sent to jail at any moment is feat unto itself. He even took more risks by having the film smuggled inside a cake from Iran to France where it premiered at the Cannes Film Festival. As a Holocaust survivor once wisely stated, you can have every freedom and luxury taken away from you from oppressors, but, unless they kill you, they can't take away from you a truly useful, often underused tool: your brain. Panahi, fortunately, puts his own brain to great use both intellectually as well as creatively throughout the film.       It's also worth noting the few instances of dry humor, such as when Panahi let a pet iguana crawl on top of him while he sits on his couch surfing the web--not surprisingly, the Iranian government has censored many websites. There's also a little suspense when Panahi calls his lawyer to find out any updates on the status of his case.This is Not a Film ultimately has an abundance of insight, poignancy, truth and intrigue which makes for an experience that you won't forget anytime soon. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Pina       Every now and then comes a documentary such as Pina that’s so visually stunning and breathtaking that it compels you to recommend it on aesthetics alone. Even if you’re not familiar with the life and work of German choreographer Pina Bausch, you’ll be in awe as you watch the dancers of Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch perform Pina’s modern, interpretative dances routines in glorious 3D. The dance numbers are filled with awkward movements, actions and juxtapositions that make them all the more unique, memorable, bizarre, unpredictable, complex, magical, funny and interesting—much like life itself. Anyone looking for more insight into Pina’s art and what it’s like to work with her should watch Dancing Dreams which has more talking heads and behind-the-scenes footage than performance footage. Pina, with its plethora of dance numbers, provides audiences with an experience of Pina’s art rather than a study or analysis of it that provides insight. That experience does tend to become overwhelming and tedious at times without any insightful interviews to balance all the dance footage, so don’t be surprised if you end up with many questions about Pina’s background or the significance of the dances.       Director Wim Wenders has made this documentary as a tribute to Pina, his longtime friend, who succumbed to cancer during the early part of the production in 2009. Everything about Pina celebrates the choreographer’s amazing talents, and deservedly so. The music, dancing, set designs and even Wenders’ cinematography all intertwine to create an exhilarating experience of sights and sounds that’s magnified in 3D. So much complex emotions rise to the surface that there are no adequate words to truly describe the experience of watching Pina’s interpretive dance numbers passionately performed by the Tanztheater dancers. Only those who genuinely appreciate dance (or art in general) as a reflection and celebration of life will find an emotional connection to the sights and sounds found in Pina. Everyone else, especially those who have no depth, will find themselves bored, annoyed and frustrated, but those individuals are certainly not the intended audience.       At a running time of 1 hour and 46 minutes, Pina is an often exhilarating, lively, magical and breathtaking experience of Pina Bausch’s art. ![]() ![]() Main Page Film Festival ______________________________________________________ |