Hugo (2011) & The Artist (2011)

basics...
I have decided that were I able to travel back in space and time to any period, I'd choose to go back to twenties Hollywood to witness the spectacle of the movies - the birth of sound, of animation, Walt Disney, a time when movie stars were Stars, not celebrities, when they retained a mystique and weren't like mere mortals like you or I. And through Hugo and The Artist, two critically acclaimed movies set around the period I'm talking about, my dream came true, for a few hours at a time at least. 

Hugo is an atypical Martin Scorcese fantasy about a young boy (Asa Butterfield) who lives in a Paris train station with a broken clockwork man for company. Through his friendship with Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz) he discovers silent-movie pioneer George Mélies (Sir Ben Kinglsey) working in his station.

The Artist is a French-made movie set in Hollywood, in black and white, full-screen, and silent. They really don't make them like that anymore! The stars and director of the OSS 117 spoofs reunite to create a film that doesn't parody early silent movies, rather it celebrates the ingenuity of the form and uses the same story-telling devices to construct a plot akin to Singin' in the Rain (talkies coming along to make silent stars redundant) that still manages to feel fresh and involving in a world of CGI and special effects.

brilliant...
Both movies are utterly magical - but I'd have to say that Hugo was suprisingly the one I found most enjoyable. Hugo looks beautiful, the train station set is gorgeous and Scorcese's camera-work, even in 2D, is breath-taking. Butterfield and Moretz are charming and surrounded by some fantastic English actors, including Kinglsey and Richard Griffiths, and the fantastic 'villain' played by Sacha Baron Cohen, who turns out to actually have a heart in a very real way. Once the young protagonist discovers who Mélies is, or was, the movie becomes more than an adventurous fantasy and turns into a love-letter to the filmmakers of the early 20th Century, and the whole thing becomes even more magical and exciting. 

The Artist is less about spectacle and history than it is proof that special effects do not make a movie more exciting, and that you don't need a honed speech to present emotion on screen. A lot of plaudits have been given to Jean Dujardin for his star turn as George Valentin, yet the person who made the film come alive even more than he is the stunning Bérénice Bejo as superbly named Peppy Miller. Every moment she is on screen is a sheer joy, there is so much enthusiasm and warmth emanating from her. Together, Dujardin and Bejo are a formidable double-act, and they are complemented by brilliant mime-work from James Cromwell and John Goodman. There are some ingeniuous sequences, including one of Valentin's dreams in which he can hear sound effects but not speak, and the final frenetic tap number. A clip of Safety Last! is shown at one point, with the audience reacting to the tense yet funny aspect of the final climbing scene, and the spirit of this edge-of-the-seat emotion that early movies strived for is replicated in the potentially bleak final act of The Artist. I really wasn't sure if either lead character would survive. It was nice too that the movie shied away from a traditional romance - Valentin never really reciprocates the adoration that Miller feels for her hero, and this is to the film's credit and it's ability to subvert expectation.

briefly...
Two beacons of originality and creativity in a medium awash with remakes, star-vehicles and trash, Hugo and The Artist are easily the best movies I've seen or expect to see for some time.