"The Artist" Restores Your Belief In The Magic Of Performances

Just as you are on the verge of losing faith in the prominence of 'pure undiluted acting' in films, The Artist restores your belief in the magic of performances and simple storytelling over modern day high production values.

A heart-warming ode to the glorious era of silent cinema, The Artist proves 'Silence indeed speaks louder than words'! The 10 Oscar nominations and various wins at international festivals are very well deserving.

Set in 1927 Hollywood, French director/Writer Michel Hazanavicius tells us the lifestory of a famous movie star who rules the silent cinema but refuses to jump onto the bandwagon of the talkies. With younger actors preferred by studios, the ageing washed up superstar becomes reclusive with no hope of getting to relive his glory days.

The very talented French actor Jean Dujardin plays George Valentin, a leading superstar of silent cinema in Hollywood. From being a heartthrob of the ladies to being a no-body with no standing in the 'talkies', The Artist is the story of rise and doom of a movie star.

What happens when fame stops giving company and fans fancy new faces?

The film opens with George's cinema running to packed houses. Used to people's adulation, the good hearted celebrated hero poses for the press at his movie premiere.

Aspiring actress Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) gathers outside the theatre to see George. She accidentally drops her autograph book as the crowd gets hysterical. As Peppy gets down to pick it up, she skips the security barricade thus stumbling into George. Love happens at first sight and only gets stronger as fate brings them together again and again. Years pass, tables are turned. Peppy's the rising star and George the fading one, what happens next?

Chances are The Artist will be your new favourite film. This French film has a fresh script, smart direction and a charming central performance by Jean Dujardin. Also, the film is in black-and-white and it’s silent. This French film has taken the world by storm, and is a front runner in all major categories at almost every awards ceremony so far this year.

Directed by Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist tells the story of Dujardin’s George Valentin, the quintessential star of the American silent film era. Everyone loves him and his films, but in a cruel twist of fate, a technological breakthrough becomes Valentin’s eventual downfall: the transition from silent films to “talkies” in the late ’20s and early ’30s (watch the trailer below).

As audiences yearn for these novel films with proper dialogue in the new Golden Era of Hollywood, silent films and their stars quickly become a thing of the past. In this new age of film, it’s all about the likes of Peppy Miller (Bérènice Bejo), a girl Valentin accidentally discovered, who becomes a superstar while Valentin descends into a life full of regret and frustration. All the former star has now is his loyal dog (Uggie), a definite scene-stealer, with whom he forms an endearing bond.

Hazanavicius’s direction is so authentic that The Artist could well have been an actual ’20s film. Nonetheless, the less one says about The Artist, the better. This of course is meant as a compliment, as viewers should find out for themselves just how absolutely sublime this film is. Jean Dujardin carries the entire film on his broad shoulders and charming smile – he is sure to go places. Berenice Bejo plays the seductive dancer-cum-actress very naturally. John Goodman and James Cromwell add some star value with their short but strong roles.

The Artist would be one film that, if it were to happen, would deservedly win a Best Picture Oscar. The attention to detail is amazing for this kind of film and every department has done a remarkable job. This film is an ode to good cinema, and a win for The Artist would really be a triumph for cinema itself. Yes, The Artist is authentic cinema in its true essence and this wholesome entertainer of a film has some true intelligence for which it should be lauded.

The Pursuit Of Happyness Is A Encouraging Movie

Will Smith doesn't seem the likeliest candidate to play a desperate, struggling man. Whatever the role (love coach, alien fighter, Ali), he projects speed and good times, an almost aerobic self-confidence. But in The Pursuit of Happyness, which is set in San Francisco in 1981, at the dawn of the age of go-go capitalism, Smith doesn't just wear a few flecks of gray in his hair. He slows himself down, playing a man who awakens to the reality that life is nickel-and-diming him to death.

It's a beautiful and understated performance, one that hums with a richer, quieter music than Smith has mustered before.

What hooks you in this shrewdly touching movie, based on a true story, is how specific it is about one man's economic perils. Smith's Chris Gardner is an earnest fellow in his late 30s who sells medical equipment — or, rather, one particular item, a high-density bone scanner that he hawks, with middling success, on a freelance basis. His mistake was to invest his savings in these contraptions, and now he's stuck, toting them around town like oversize typewriters.

His marriage has fallen apart, and when the prickly, impatient Linda (Thandie Newton) takes off, leaving Chris and his young son (played by Smith's son Jaden with a sly-eyed lack of fuss that matches nicely with his father's), he applies for the internship program at Dean Witter, where he'll compete to be a stockbroker. Smith makes Chris a go-getter with a hint of sadness — a bit of a fuddy-duddy, but a smart, dogged one. (He gets his foot in the door by solving a Rubik's Cube.)

In The Pursuit of Happyness, we don't just know Chris' dreams. We know his bank account, his tally of parking tickets, his back taxes. The fact that he's African-American is there at the margins — he would surely have gone to college had he come from a less hardscrabble background — but the real issue is the subtler one of class mobility in America. Since the internship is unsalaried,

Chris is forced to survive by other measures, and what this means is that the job is really geared to people who've already attained middle-class solidity. Chris has to pretend to be something he's not, and the power of Smith's acting is in the gentle, mounting fury with which he absorbs a hundred misperceptions and slights.

As compelling as the film is, it does have a rather single-minded, one-ordeal-after-another,

Murphy's Law quality. Yet the director, Italy's Gabriele Muccino, lends a humane touch even to the running joke of Chris getting his bone scanners stolen, and the plot is an inexorable chain of money logic: Chris' escape from a cabbie he can't afford to pay, his looming tax crisis, his move to a hotel and, finally, a homeless shelter. The lower he falls, the more Smith endows him with a ragged nobility and will. The Pursuit of Happyness speaks eloquently to the anxieties of our own time, when staying afloat, let alone movin' on up, has rarely been tougher.

The King’s Speech-Racking Up Award Nominations

The King’s Speech’ is a competent Oscar-baiting historical drama, but does the film stammer too much for the mainstream moviegoer? Read our review to find out.

Since it’s debut at the Telluride Film Festival back in September, The King’s Speech has been steadily racking up award nominations as well as several wins, including: The Producers Guild of America Award for Best Theatrical Motion Picture and The Golden Globe for Best Actor (Colin Firth).

There’s no doubt that The King’s Speech – a historical drama about King George VI’s pre-World War II  rise to power – is the type of film award shows love to celebrate. However, despite being a competent and beautiful film, is director Tom Hooper’s movie too stuffy to provide mainstream moviegoers with a satisfying trip to the box office?

Fortunately, the answer is no. Despite critical acclaim, some Academy Award-nominated historical dramas never get a wide release – in large part due to their limited appeal to the greater movie-going population. The King’s Speech, however, is an intelligent film with beautiful direction by Hooper, that manages to offer a charm and sense of humor that even audiences at the megaplex will enjoy (not just the local independent theater).

If you’re still unfamiliar with the story of King George VI, or subsequently The King’s Speech, here’s the official synopsis:

After the death of his father King George V (Michael Gambon) and the scandalous abdication of King Edward VIII (Guy Pearce), Bertie (Colin Firth) who has suffered from a debilitating speech impediment all his life, is suddenly crowned King George VI of England. With his country on the brink of war and in desperate need of a leader, his wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), the future Queen Mother, arranges for her husband to see an eccentric speech therapist, Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). After a rough start, the two delve into an unorthodox course of treatment and eventually form an unbreakable bond. With the support of Logue, his family, his government and Winston Churchill (Timothy Spall), the King will overcome his stammer and deliver a radio-address that inspires his people and unites them in battle.

Based on the true story of King George VI, THE KING’S SPEECH follows the Royal Monarch’s quest to find his voice.

As mentioned in the summary, the entire movie revolves around the importance of voice. With the recent invention of the wireless radio, as well as the growing threat of Nazi Germany, King George VI is forced into a unique moment in history – where a King’s radio booth is suddenly more important than his throne.

Despite being the type of role typically labeled as “Oscar-bait,” Colin Firth’s performance as the stammering Prince Albert (George VI) is an honest portrayal that never oversteps the boundary between interpretation and caricature. While Firth’s stammering is certainly painful to listen to, it’s clear this is Hooper’s desired effect – and the director balances Albert’s stammers, as well as his succeeding frustration and anger, with a charming performance by Geoffrey Rush as the Australian speech therapist, Lionel Logue.

Like many dramas that revolve around a “burgeoning friendship” dynamic, many of the best moments in The King’s Speech are centered around the dynamic between the two would-be friends as Logue attempts to draw the stubborn Prince Albert down from his high horse, in order to truly address the root of the problem (Albert’s fear of being King). In the process, the audience is treated to a number of great moments: some humorous, some painful, and others that are genuinely inspiring.

That said, at times a few of these moments can follow the three act historical drama a bit too closely – resulting in several predictable character arcs. Without giving anything away, the end of the first and second acts are each punctuated with some misunderstanding or regression that tears at Lionel and Albert’s friendship. Surely the pair had their ups and downs in real life, and the framework doesn’t ruin the film or even take much away from the viewer’s enjoyment, but, because of where they’re placed, these moments end up coming across as the contrived movements of the plot, instead of the organic transition of the characters.

It’s a fine line, and certainly won’t bother most moviegoers, but in these moments it was easy to see the screenplay for The King’s Speech shining through a bit too clearly on the silver screen.

However, despite the over-obvious movie structure that, on occasion, gets forced onto the historical events depicted in the film, The King’s Speech is a terrific film with great performances by the cast, as well as an inspiring, not to mention charming, story about a man who not only finds his voice, but finds his place as one of the most important leaders in history.

Development Of The Lord of The Rings Film

The Lord of the Rings film trilogy comprises three live action fantasy epic films; The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) and The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003). For simplicity, the titles are often abbreviated to 'LotR', with 'FotR', 'TTT' and 'RotK' for each of the respective films.
Set in Middle-earth, the three films follow the young Hobbit Frodo Baggins as he and a Fellowship embark on a quest to destroy the One Ring, and thus ensure the destruction of the Dark Lord Sauron, but the Fellowship becomes broken, and Frodo continues the quest together with his loyal companion Sam and the treacherous Gollum. Meanwhile the Wizard Gandalf and Aragorn, heir in exile to the throne of Gondor, unite and rally the Free Peoples of Middle-earth in several battles cumulating in the War of the Ring. The Wizard Saruman is defeated, the Ring is destroyed, and Sauron and his forces are vanquished.

The movies were directed by Peter Jackson and released by New Line Cinema. The trilogy is based on the book The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien and follows its general storyline, despite some deviations. Considered to be one of the biggest movie projects ever undertaken with an overall budget of $280 million, the entire project took eight years, with the filming for all three films done simultaneously and entirely in Jackson's native New Zealand.

The trilogy was a large financial success, with the films being the 25th, 17th and 5th highest grossing films of alltime respectively, unadjusted for inflation. The films were critically acclaimed, winning 17 Academy Awards in total, as well as wide praise for the cast and innovative practical and digital special effects. Each film in the trilogy also had Special Extended Editions, released a year after the theatrical release on DVD.
Director Peter Jackson first came into contact with The Lord of the Rings when he saw Ralph Bakshi's 1978 film, which he found confusing. Afterwards, he read a tie-in edition of the book during a twelve-hour train journey from Wellington to Auckland when he was seventeen. Jackson's reaction was, "I can't wait until somebody makes a movie of this book because I'd like to see it!

In 1995, Jackson was finishing The Frighteners and considered The Lord of the Rings as a new project, wondering "why nobody else seemed to be doing anything about it". With the new developments in computer generated imagery following Jurassic Park, Jackson set about planning a fantasy film that would be relatively serious and feel "real". By October, he and his partner Fran Walsh teamed up with Miramax boss Harvey Weinstein to negotiate with Saul Zaentz who had held the rights to the book since the early 1970s, pitching an adaptation of The Hobbit and two films based on The Lord of the Rings. Negotiations then stalled when Universal Studios offered Jackson a remake of King Kong. Weinstein was furious, and further problems arose when it turned out Zaentz did not have distribution rights to The Hobbit; United Artists, which was in the market, did. By April 1996 the rights question was still not resolved. Jackson decided to move ahead with King Kong before filming The Lord of the Rings, prompting Universal to enter a deal with Miramax to receive foreign earnings from The Lord of the Rings whilst Miramax received foreign earnings from King Kong.

When Universal cancelled King Kong in 1997, Jackson and Walsh immediately received support from Weinstein and began a six-week process of sorting out the rights. Jackson and Walsh asked Costa Botes to write a synopsis of the book and they began to re-read the book. Two to three months later, they had written their treatment. The first film would have dealt with what would become The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and the beginning of The Return of the King, ending with the death of Saruman, and Gandalf and Pippin going to Minas Tirith. In this treatment Gwaihir and Gandalf visit Edoras after escaping Saruman, Gollum attacks Frodo when the Fellowship is still united, and Farmer Maggot, Glorfindel, Radagast, Elladan and Elrohir are present. Bilbo attends the Council of Elrond, Sam looks into Galadriel's mirror, Saruman is redeemed before he dies and the Nazgûl just make it into Mount Doom before they fall. They presented their treatment to Harvey and Bob Weinstein, the latter of whom they focused on impressing with their screenwriting as he had not read the book. They agreed upon two films and a total budget of $75 million.

During mid-1997, Jackson and Walsh began writing with Stephen Sinclair. Sinclair's partner, Philippa Boyens, was a major fan of the book and joined the writing team after reading their treatment. It took 13-14 months to write the two film scripts, which were 147 and 144 pages respectively. Sinclair left the project due to theatrical obligations. Amongst their revisions, Sam, Merry and Pippin are caught eavesdropping and forced to go along with Frodo. Gandalf's account of his time at Orthanc was pulled out of flashback and Lothlórien was cut with Galadriel attending the Council of Elrond. Denethor, Boromir's father, also attends the Council, and other changes included having Arwen rescue Frodo, and the action sequence involving the cave troll. Arwen was even going to kill the Witch-king. Most significantly, there was an all-new sequence. A Ringwraith kills Saruman and attacks Gandalf at Orthanc. Seeing this from the Seeing Seat, now at Emyn Muil rather than Amon Hen, Frodo puts on the Ring and draws him all the way to the Seat on his Fell beast. Frodo manages to save Sam and stabs the wraith in his heart.


Trouble struck when Marty Katz was sent to New Zealand. Spending four months there, he told Miramax that the films were more likely to cost $150 million, and with Miramax unable to finance this, and with $15 million already spent, they decided to merge the two films into one. On June 17 1998, Bob Weinstein presented a treatment of a single two-hour film version of the book. He suggested cutting Bree and the Battle of Helm's Deep, "losing or using" Saruman, merging Rohan and Gondor with Éowyn as Boromir's sister, shortening Rivendell and Moria as well as having Ents prevent the Uruk-hai kidnapping Merry and Pippin. Upset by the idea of "cutting out half the good stuff" Jackson balked, and Miramax declared that any script or Weta Workshop's work was theirs. Jackson went around Hollywood for four weeks, showing a thirty-five minute video of their work, before meeting with Mark Ordesky of New Line Cinema. At New Line Cinema, Robert Shaye viewed the video, and then asked why they were making two films when the book was published as three volumes; he wanted to make a film trilogy. Now Jackson, Walsh and Boyens had to write three new scripts.

The expansion to three films allowed a lot more creative freedom, and Jackson, Walsh and Boyens had to restructure their script accordingly. Each film is not exactly based on each volume of the book, but rather they represent a three-part adaptation, as Jackson takes a more chronological approach to the story, whilst Tolkien retold chunks of his fictional history. Frodo's quest is the main focus, and Aragorn is the main subplot, and many sequences (such as Tom Bombadil and the Scouring of the Shire) that do not contribute directly to those two plots were left out. Much effort was put into creating satisfactory conclusions and making sure exposition did not bog down the pacing. Amongst new sequences, there are also expansions on elements Tolkien kept ambiguous, such as the battles and the creatures.

Above all, most characters have been altered for extra drama. Aragorn, Théoden and Treebeard have added or modified elements of self-doubt, whilst Galadriel, Elrond and Faramir have been darkened. Boromir and Gollum are (arguably) relatively more sympathetic, whilst some characters such as Legolas, Gimli, Saruman and Denethor have been simplified. Some characters, such as Arwen and Éomer, are given actions from minor characters such as Glorfindel and Erkenbrand, and generally lines of dialogue are somewhat preserved or switched around between locations or characters depending on suitability of the scenes. New scenes were also added to expand on characterization. In the meantime, during shooting, the screenplays would undergo many daily transformations, due to contributions from cast looking to further explore their characters. Most notable amongst these rewrites was the character Arwen, who was originally planned as a warrior princess, but reverted back to her book counterpart, who remains physically inactive in the story (though she sends moral and military support).

Chronicles Of Narnia: Prince Caspian

Prince Caspian is one of the hardest of the Narnia stories to adapt for film, second only to The Last Battle - which is why the BBC TV adaptation put it together with The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and gave Caspian itself only a hour's screen time. The book features a complicated structure which introduces the titular hero via a story within a story, hours of wandering around, lost, in the woods and a Bacchic orgy (which, unsurprisingly, isn't in the film, but I discussed it in my Narnia article). None of these things are particularly film-friendly.

It is hardly surprising, then, that Adamson gets pretty creative in adapting the story for film. Some changes work better than others. I love the shot of the unnamed Tarva and Alambil at the beginning, but I really feel no children's movie should open with a childbirth scene, no matter how crucial it is to the plot. The extra castle sequence is rather good, introducing some nice dramatic tension between Caspian and Peter (who get on irritatingly well in the book) and, best of all, Edmund finally gets to skewer the White Witch. However, the less said about the hideous attempt at romance between Caspian and Susan, the better.

All the mythological creatures in Prince Caspian, from various mythologies, stand for religion and spirituality against the secular Telmarines. It is somewhat appropriate, therefore, that the eternally plural minotaurs are now on our side (they were bad guys in the previous film). Old emneties are laid aside and no creature here is 'good' or 'evil' - unlike the diametrically opposed armies of good and evil in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, there is good and bad on both sides here (and the film has sensibly played down Lewis' unfortunate implication from the book that black dwarves and bad and red ones good).

The minotaurs are also a potent symbol of the fact that monstrous does not equal bad and I confess, I actually well up when the one minotaur holds up the portcullis at Miraz' castle despite being full of arrows and sacrifices himself so our heroes can escape. I dread to think how many times Pasiphae had relations with that bull, though, to produce such a large group of minotaur progeny.

The bulk of the army is, once again, made up of centaurs and fauns, because they look the most human and can wear bits of armour. In fact, the centaurs seem to be largely in charge during the castle attack, since Peter and Caspian are competing for who can be more incompetent (love the use of Edmund's electric torch though). It seems a shame that the films insist that an army isn't an army unless it's got human-looking creatures in it, since you'd think an army of animals, all with different strengths, would be quite cool. I guess British woodland creatures aren't quite tough enough.

The centaurs are also used to provide some family drama and add to the 'war is hell' motif. They've been chosen for this purpose because of their human-like looks, and because female fauns are pretty few and far between (if they exist at all - I've always imagined fauns and satyrs pair up with nymphs and dryads, and I think that fits with the original Greek versions as well). I think we could have been equally affected by, say, a bereaved family of mice or badgers or squirrels, but there we go, it works fine with centaurs too. Though I can't help feeling that child centaurs (boy or girl) should be given T-shirts or something, they don't look right, wandering around topless.

The architecture in the temple-like section of Aslan's How is rather good. It doesn't look to me like it's emulating any one particular style (unless it's one I'm less familiar with) but it gets across a general sense of ancient religion. The large reliefs of Aslan, in particular, and the random but cool sections of fire that light the place are very effective - to me, they are almost evocative of ancient Egyptian temple architecture, though without actually being very Egyptian. It certainly drives home the point that Aslan is the god of the Narnians and the Stone Table is his altar (I know this may seem obvious, but I had absolutely no idea that that was what it was supposed to be when I was a child).

When Lucy first sees Aslan here, the audience does not, and when she first meets with him in the woods, it happens in a dream, which creates a much more interesting dilemma for the other characters and the audience. If the audience is shown the same clear sight of Aslan that Lucy sees, the central point about faith is rather lost, since we know she's right - we saw it. By hiding Aslan from the audience, and showing him only in dream sequences, the film forces the audience to question Lucy's sanity/eyesight as well, and it makes the final, real meeting between her and Aslan that much more powerful.

The use of the river god is very effective and makes a nicely dramatic ending. It also makes me wonder, for the umpteenth time, how Achilles could possibly fight a river towards the end of the Iliad. After all, how can you fight water, except with a lot of fire?! (Presumably Achilles was fighting the spirit of the river in human form, it's been a few years since I read that part of the Iliad - it still doesn't make a whole load of sense though).

Prince Caspian is, perhaps, not quite as successful as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but it does a very good job with a difficult book and has some really brilliant moments (many of them involving Edmund and Lucy, the only two characters thinking straight for much of the story). The fleshing out of important minor characters like Queen Prunaprismia and Glozelle and Sopespian is rather good and the scene with the werewolf and the hag trying to call up the Witch, always a highlight, is fantastic.

Warwick Davis suddenly turns from Reepicheep (in the TV series) to Nikabrik, which is confusing, but he's excellent as ever. Caspian's pretty easy on the eyes, too (he's far too old compared to the book, but I'm not complaining!). From the latest trailer for The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, it looks like that's been pretty heavily 'adapted' (i.e. totally changed) as well, so let's hope the adaptations are as successful.