Donnybrook Goes to the Movies!

Max Phineas and Alistair visit Virginia’s historic Shirlington Theater to catch The Artist, utter chaos ensues.

Geronimo: Francois! Francois! Something bad has happened!

Francois: What’re you blabbing about this time Geronimo?

Geronimo: The Young master has lost his voice!

Francois: And that’s a bad thing why?

Geronimo: Well he was supposed to review The Artist remember?

Francois: Shit! Oh gosh, what’re we gonna do?

Geronimo: *Slaps Francois* Snap out of it! We’re gonna have to do this ourselves. Did he leave any notes behind?

Francois: *Rifles papers* Uhh, uhh yeah, yeah right here.

Geronimo: Well then start reading, man!

Francois: Oh yes, umm, of course. The Artist (directed by Michel Hazanavicius) is a movie that harkens back to the early days of film to bring us a mesmerizing tale about love, loss, vanity, modernization, and gain all told through the medium of a silent, black and white film. We follow famous silent film actor George Valentin (Jean Dujardin: OSS 117: Lost in Rio, A Man and His Dog) through the mid-twenties into the early thirties while we see him rise and later fall as Hollywood has become infatuated with the notion of doing movies with sound (talkies). While dealing with this he’s also introduced to a young starlet named Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo: A Knight’s Tale, OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies) who has begun to enter into the Hollywood scene and whose star is beginning to rise because of her bubbly personality, and adorable looks. Umm, umm and the… and the-the-the-

Geronimo: *Snatches notes away* Oh give me those. *Ahem* The movie is truly one of those masterpieces of cinema where almost everything about it is great. The acting is phenomenal with the two leads being very charismatic. They’re funny and charming and truly draw you in with their performances. Jean Dujardin gives a knockout performance pulling in smiles and tears as his character struggles with the fact that his time as an actor is coming to a silent close. Bérénice Bejo is also extremely adorable and she put a smile on my face whenever she was on screen with her big grin and cute expressions as her character grew to become the biggest movie star of the early 1930s. There are also some great cameos from John Goodman (The Big Lebowski, Monsters Inc., O Brother Where Art Thou?) and James Cromwell (W., Babe, L.A. Confidential), as well as Uggie (Water for Elephants) the Jack Russell terrier who deserves, at the least, an Oscar for his performance. Haha. (Sometimes I wonder about the young master.)

The score is also brilliant and really dictates the mood of the film with quirky, happy xylophones playing in the funny scenes (a little too much I must say at points) that are probably the most prevalent theme from the movie. I found myself tapping my foot during the movie as the score is just that catchy and it truly brings me back to those silent films of the 20s where the soundtrack is what gave the audience cues on how to feel. Damn, Francois the notes end here!

Francois: It’s okay. While you were reading I called our dearest Alistair – she went to see it with Master and always has way too much to say about everything. She said she’ll be right over to help with the review after she finished making a drug run. In fact I think I hear her at the front door now.

Alistair: Out of the way, Queens! I’m here to save the day, per the usual, and I only have *looks at her Patek Philippe (it’s a watch for all you poor people out there)* 30 more minutes until this coke wears off and I’ll need to find a bathroom to cut more lines.

So – you want to know what happened when Max and I went to see The Artist?

Francois: Yes, that’s why we called you – his review cuts off without an end or a rating, and he’s lost his voice – he’s just been sitting there at his wet bar softly crying into his hot toddy. It’s very sad.

Alistair: Indeed. Anyone rich and sad is horribly depressing for the rest of us. Well, we did go and see it, at Shirlington Theater in Virginia, no less. They serve latte’s there. We took our jet. Oh wait – you want me to review the movie? I’ve never done that before… um… uh… Wait – I took pictures!

Here we are at our first stop, the legendary Busboy’s & Poets – Max had breakfast. I don’t eat so I had more coffee. Did you know that sprinkling meth in your coffee makes you freak the fuck out? Way better than snorting or smoking it. Allegedly. Meth is for poor people.

So we finally made it to the theater – I don’t think I’ve gone to see a movie in an actual theater in months – all the uppers make my bladder go berserk and I constantly have to get up and go pee so I never get to see a movie in the theater anymore! This was a fantastic treat.

As you know from some of my other posts, I adore old Hollywood glamour – it’s a time in American fashion, well, really American and European fashion – that will never be duplicated or matched. The men were so dashing, as Jean Dujardin aptly captured as fading movie star George Valentin, and Bérénice Bejo was just ravishing. Like Dujardin, she captured the ideal of a 20’s/30’s starlet just as you’d imagine. She was adorable in the classic gamine way, wide-eyed and hilarious – her devotion to George was so touching that the two of them brought me to tears numerous times throughout the film – and that’s a pretty big feat considering how badly all the weed has dried my eyes out.

I think the fact that the two stars of the film have worked with Hazanavicius before in his spy spoof OSS: 117 series impacted their performances in a fantastic way – being able to trust the director to take him to risky places, as Dujardin does with his portrayal of Valentin, made the performances all the more touching. Doesn’t hurt that Bejo also happens to be Hazanavicius’ wife (she just recently appeared at her husband’s side when he took home the Director’s Guild honor for The Artist, paving the way for him to hopefully nab the Best Director Oscar). And I can’t ignore the real star of the film – Uggie the Jack Russell. So sad to hear he’s retiring, but at least he’s going out with a bang – he’s up for not one, but two Golden Collar awards this Feb. 13, and is all set to grace us with his presence at the Oscars on Feb. 26. (Which I’ll be covering…. Just putting it out there.)

I have to say I disagree with my dear Maxy on one point – I didn’t find the soundtrack distracting at all. As a huge fan of classic film, especially silent film (alas my celeb crushes on Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd can never be realized), the soundtrack was perfectly appropriate and I couldn’t help but imagine there was a piano player sitting down there in the front slamming away at the keys or something. I’m totally calling this as my fave film of 2012 – yes I know we’re only a month in, but whatever I’m going there.

Okay, bitches, I’m out – Divas? *snaps fingers at Francois and Geronimo* help little Fauntleroy with his coat, there’s a chill in the air. I’m off to get our Maxy some codeine infused cough syrup!

Geronimo: Um… thanks? *Alistair leaves in a flurry of dog sweater and expensive perfume* God that woman is scary.