But now that the Oscars are over, I don't have a nice OCD-appealing list of movies to watch and that is just sad. So when I had my at-home movie session this weekend, I scrounged the ole Roku to find Oscar movies that I had never seen. Which led me to...
The Artist
I saw a lot of the Oscar-nominated movies last year (The Descendents, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, The Help, Moneyball, War Horse) but somehow missed, you know, the one that was apparently the best of all. Oops.
For those who also missed the boat last year (spoilers abound), The Artist is tells the story of George Valentin, a superstar in the time of silent movies. When we first see him, it's 1927 and he's on top of the world - cockily showing off to his sometimes-wife, sometimes-costar, showboating with his sometimes-costar, always-best-bud dog friend, and playing to the newspapers. A chance meeting at the premiere of his latest film brings into his life Peppy Miller, a spunky wannabe movie star. Both are obviously attracted to each other, and when she winds up with a bit part in his next film, he takes her under his wing, giving her a "beauty mark" with a makeup pencil that will allow her to stand out from the other girls.
Shortly thereafter, new technology bring talking pictures onto the scene, and when his movie production company opts to go all-talkie, George is left on his own. He fights back by writing, directing and starring in his own (silent) movie, but it just so happens to open the exact same day as his previous company's talking-picture blockbuster, starring the newest starlet: Peppy Miller. Added to the fun is the fact that both movies start a few days before the stock market crash of 1929 and poor George is left with a bust.
[Warning: This paragraph is full of spoilers.] Over the next couple of years, George's life falls apart - he loses his wife, his job, his home, his possessions, his trusty manservant - pretty much everything except his little dog. Meanwhile, Peppy is starring in picture after picture (along with her trademark beauty mark). Eventually, George hits rock bottom, setting fire to the film reels of all of his pictures and thereby setting fire to his apartment. His quick-thinking dog brings help just in time, and when Peppy finds out, she takes him into her home to take care of him. He enjoys her company, but seeing her go to work in the morning is too much for him, and he escapes to his burnt-out apartment to kill himself. Peppy arrives just in time and they work out a way for him to succeed in the talkies without actually talking: by performing big dance numbers as Peppy's costar.
[Spoilers completed.]
The story is a good one, but what makes The Artist stand out and won it so many awards last year is HOW it was made. For the most part, it's a silent movie, with the dramatic music and slightly exaggerated acting (but not too exaggerated). But it also utilizes the limited sound it does use effectively. When he first learns about talking pictures, George has a dream where he can actually hear things - a dropped pencil case, a barking dog, giggling girls - and we can, too. And in the last scene, after George and Peppy perform their dance routine for her latest film, it ends with the director yelling cut, the film crew equipment making noise, the producer asking if they have one more take in them, and George - actually speaking - replying yes and revealing a strong French accent (maybe that's why he wasn't ready for actually talking).
The acting is really great, especially considering that both of the leads are foreign actors who have not appeared in many American movies before and since The Artist (Jean Dujardin is French, while Berenice Bejo is Argentinian). The supporting cast is more recognizable and equally great: John Goodman as the producer, James Cromewell as George's faithful butler, Penelope Ann Miller as the scorned wife, and bizarrely, Malcolm McDowell in about 10 seconds' worth of a scene.
I wasn't sure about The Artist before I watched it. I'm no film student and sometimes I think that excessively artistic movies go over my head (see Beasts of the Southern Wild), but I actually loved this movie. It was artistic and did a lot of things without seeming like it was trying too hard. I can see why it, and Dujardin, won the Oscar last year.
There's Something About Mary
I finished watching The Artist pretty early in my evening, and having had cleaned out my DVR earlier in the day (I need a hobby), I opted to try for another movie I haven't seen. Then I decided that this second movie would be the utter opposite, most non-Artist movie available and voila! There's Something About Mary!
I don't know why I never saw this movie when it came out in 1998. Maybe because I was in the 8th grade and couldn't get into an R-rated movie. I probably should have watched it somewhere between then and now because that's a good 15 years it's had to age, and while some movies stand the test of time, this one sadly does not.
For similar cave-dwellers who missed the last decade and a half, let me sum up. Mary is a down-to-earth, funny, beautiful gal (played by Cameron Diaz) that every man falls in love with. Ted fell in high school, when the two were set to go to the prom together. Through a series of unfortunate events, they never did get to that prom, and Mary moved away a few months later, forever out of Ted's life.
Intrigued by his old flame, Ted decides to hire a private investigator (Matt Dillon) to see what Mary's been up to. Along the way, the PI falls in love with her himself and tells Ted a bunch of things to make her seem unappealing. Ted's still intrigued and realizes the PI was full of it.
Shenanigans ensue, and we learn that Mary is also pined after by a local pizza deliveryman who has spent years befriending her as a handicapped architect and Ted's best friend, who happens to be Mary's ex-boyfriend from high school. Also, Brett Favre.
Full disclosure: I'm not a huge Farrelly brothers fan. I should be, what with the whole New England thing and the fact that I normally like stupid comedies. But this just didn't do it for me. Maybe because it was 15 years old. Maybe because most of the better jokes have been beaten to death outside of the movie (the hair gel scene, franks-n-beans, etc.) that they seemed tired by the time I saw them in context. Maybe because I watched it right after The Artist. Who knows? Sorry, New England.
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