Top Ten Films of 2011

This year, I didn’t get to see as many indies and non-mainstream films as I wanted, but, in general, this was a decent, if less than momentous year for film. If anything, the best films of the year were those that simply made me smile. My top ten for the year are, uniformly, crowd-pleasers with one or two notable exceptions. While none of the selections in this list are in any danger of changing the way audiences think, feel, or live, each selection managed to entertain and keep the doldrums of the day jobs and drudgery of daily duties at bay.

10. Hanna








Grade: A
Thanks to a confident, atmospheric visual palette from director Joe Wright and disgustingly lethal beatings courtesy of waifish Saoirse Ronan, Hanna delivered an indie take on the Bourne series that easily overtook the farce that was Sucker Punch in the Girl Power division.

9. Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol









Grade: B
Tom Cruise continued to tempt death in this exciting entry that expanded the scope and ambition of the series far beyond the previous installments. Kudos to Brad Bird, in particular, for translating some of the old animation magic into his first live-action feature.

8. Real Steel









Grade: B
Easily dismissed as the Rock’em, Sock’em Robots: The Movie--which it is—this Rocky for the Transformers-set is far more entertaining and affecting than it had any right to be. Despite having a grumpy lead and a precocious kid, Real Steel proved its mettle (sorry) with solid robot-on-robot violence and an underdog narrative that rarely fails.

7. Warrior









Grade: A
In training to break the Dark Knight, the man who would be Bane (Tom Hardy), shows raw physical and emotional range in this Rocky for the MMA-set. Hardy’s performance is thankfully only one of the many highlights, as Joel Edgerton and Nick Nolte both shine as Hardy’s brother and father, respectively.

6. Fast Five









Grade: B+
Fast Five is a trade off: it relinquishes the negligible street cred—as if it ever had any—of focusing on underground street racing to become Toretto’s Seven, using any trick in the heist flick glossary to put on a show like no other Fast &Furious movie has before. It takes a moment to accept that a Fast & Furious movie can be guilt-free fun, let alone, good, but this one is both.

5. Hugo
G







Grade: A
Touching to a fault and submerged in a wonderfully luminous visual style, Hugo takes two well-worn narratives--the young orphan in search of a home and the idealistic youngster who
warms the heart of an old curmudgeon—and weaves them into a moving story that honors the early days of film while making at least 90% of the audience cry--almost.

4. Attack the Block









Grade: A
In the vein of Scott Pilgrim (which was directed by Block’s producer Edgar Wright), British import Attack the Block is a unique, underrated vision that never got the attention it deserved. More people probably saw this movie for free than any other flick this year. For those who did, they were treated to a topical twist on the alien invasion narrative that speaks to anybody who lives in a ‘ignored’ part of town.

3. Rango








Grade: A
Somehow, Johnny Depp and Gore Verbinski managed to roll up Spaghetti Westerns and Gonzo journalist adventures into a visually stunning and idiosyncratic take on Chinatown that was aimed at kids, but easily entertained all ages. Easily Johnny Depp’s best animated performance this year, with Captain Jack’s return in On Stranger Tides a slightly distant second.

2. Captain America









Grade: A
Easily the best superhero movie this year. Possibly the best Marvel movie since Blade II. Joe Johnston’s Captain America was a throwback to an era where heroes were uncomplicated and unashamedly earnest. Evoking memories of Johnston’s 90’s cult classic, The Rocketeer, Captain America, played ably by Chris Evans, showed audiences that heroes can be heroes without angst, armored suits, or ambiguity.

1. The Artist








Grade: A+
An all-around crowd pleaser fronted by two of the most winning leads of the year (Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo). Following the tale of a falling silent movie star and the rise of the spunky young starlet he’s fell in love with, The Artist is light-hearted but affecting and a wonderful experiment in the power of performances and visual over dialogue. Filmed in the manner of silent films that predated Hollywood’s golden era, The Artist may seem like it’s based around a gimmick, but rarely is a gimmick attached to such an entertaining and touching narrative.

Review - The Artist

Grade: A+

Yang: Outstanding performances by Dujardin and Bejo highlight a wonderfully charming and funny film that recalls the best of Hollywood’s silent and Golden Eras. Superb turns by supporting cast, especially James Cromwell and Uggie the Dog

Yin: Weaker in any scene where Dujardin and Bejo are off-screen; could prove baffling for audiences unfamiliar with the elements of silent film.

In-Between: Hopefully, the screening audience understands the value of “show don’t tell”. If not, prepare for more dialogue in the seats than on the screen.

Movie marketers are always in search of a film they can sell as a “feel good” experience. Outside of Pixar films and the occasional poignant indie, there are few films that truly qualify as “feel good”, and even fewer actually make audiences feel anything

The Artist is not one of those films.

A charming, moving, and inspiring recreation of the magic of old Hollywood, writer-director Michel Hazanavicius’ The Artist is one of the very few cinematic experiences in recent years to legitimately make an audience feel good.

Filmed in the manner of silent films from the Hollywood’s Silent Era (1894-1929)—complete with title cards for occasional bits of important dialogue—The Artist tells the tale of Clark Gable-esque silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), a charismatic triple threat performer on top of the world—with the exception of a clearly loveless marriage to Penelope Ann Miller’s Doris—thanks to his dashing good looks, charm, quick feet, and faithful sidekick, a scrappy Jack Russell terrier. At the premiere of George’s latest, he bumps into gorgeous, spunky aspiring starlet, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), as she is caught among the throngs grasping for George’s autograph. George and Peppy’s meet-cute is rare in that it is actually funny and cute, especially when Peppy quickly turns on the spunk and reveals herself to have the ever-elusive ‘it’ factor. From there, Hollywood’s newest “it girl” lands a role as a dancing extra on George’s next film. The two share a brief scene and—for lack of a better cliché—figurative sparks fly. Everything’s coming up rosy for George until studio head Al Zimmer (John Goodman) introduces him to the next big thing in film: talkies. George laughs off the idea, believing that no audience would want to hear his voice. Meanwhile, Peppy is climbing her way through the ranks, from extra to supporting actress to star. While Peppy’s star rises astronomically, George sees his fall after Zimmer’s studio closes shop on the production of silent films. A proud man, George decides to produce, write and direct a silent film that will outdo any talkie Zimmer and his studio can produce. George quickly finds himself running out of money and headlong into a divorce and the 1929 stock market crash. Facing obscurity and destitution, George will find that the love and support of his “replacement” may be enough to help him shine again.

Hazanavicius did a simply amazing job constructing this heartfelt homage to the filmmakers and actors of Hollywood’s silent and golden eras. As much as The Artist is a film in love with films and filmmaking, it is one that equally cherishes actors and character. Dujardin’s George and Bejo’s Peppy are two of the most genuinely charming and likeable characters to grace a silver screen since the end of the Golden Era. Their burgeoning romance is palpable because neither character engages in the selfishness and deceit common to contemporary romantic leads. It is clear from their first meeting that these two artists have compatible personalities and, shockingly, actually like each other. With the exception of one scene that dips its toe in the pond of modern romantic comedy contrivance, neither character tries to actively outwit or harm the other in the name of love. Additionally, neither character falls into a paralyzing depression because of lost love, though George has a pretty rough time—to say the least—dealing with his diminishing relevance. The reason these characters work is as much the work of Hazanavicius writing and directing as it is the work of Dujardin and Bejo’s performances. In truth, these are Oscar-level performances, and it is hard to see how an academy that champions anything that honors Hollywood could avoid bestowing at least one of these fine actors with a nomination—and this is from someone who truly believes award shows are irrelevant. Dujardin, in particular, anchors the film with a winning performance as George, a dignified, proud, but eminently likeable star who seems to represent the best of what movie stars could be. Bejo is an equally luminous presence, radiating a beauty and liveliness that could outshine the sun. I don’t think there are many actresses today—maybe Anne Hathaway—who emulate the pure star power and personality that Bejo displays as Peppy, and that is a dreadful shame.

Bejo and Dujardin may carry the film, but they are not alone, as they are supported by superb cast. John Goodman does an able job delivering laughs as the beleaguered studio head, who, despite his best efforts, is frequently at the mercy of his stars. James Cromwell also makes an indelible mark as George’s loyal driver, Clifton. Cromwell’s Clifton is the Alfred to George’s Batman, and the, here’s that word again, dignity Cromwell brings to the role goes a long way to helping audiences understand why the two are so loyal to each other. Penelope Ann Miller is unfortunately submerged in the thankless role as the one mildly detestable character in the film, but her time on screen is fairly limited and does little to interfere with the proceedings. The only supporting star to outshine these other wonderful performers is Uggie, the animal performer who plays George’s Jack Russell terrier. Yeah, it’s kind of corny that this grown man’s sidekick is a dog, but it is another example of the loyal friendships George has fostered. Early in the film, George comes home to a cold wife who barely greets him, but his dog eagerly jumps into his open arms. The way is Uggie hits the perfect play dead or shame posture beats is wonderfully funny and will never fail to get a laugh from anyone with a warm heart.

The Artist is able to showcase this string of great performances thanks in large part to Hazanavicius central conceit of using silent film techniques throughout, with only two notable and necessary exceptions. The silence enables this film to do something few modern mainstream films do well, particularly in terms of developing character: show instead of tell. Spoken dialogue would only diminish the emotion of this film, as The Artist is the rare film that truly earns every laugh and near tear from the audience simply due to the clarity of character’s motivation and action. Additionally, Hazanavicius has faithfully recreated the dream of Hollywood in a manner almost completely devoid of cynicism. This is a film about decent people doing their best to adhere to their principles while being decent to each other. In a way, it reminds of this summer’s Captain America. Sure, life wasn’t a peachy in the early days of the twentieth century as both films would like their audiences to believe, but, for two hours, it’s nice to think it was, and that is the feeling that sticks with audiences. Very few contemporary films can create such a feeling, earn the emotions they aim for, and remain in the audience’s hearts and minds. The Artist is one of the few films this year that has easily accomplished all three feats.