So, it seems there’s a lotta big movies opening this coming Friday: Act of Valor, Gone, Wanderlust…  Did no one get the memo that the long weekend is this weekend, not next?  Not that I really wanted to see any of those flicks, mind you.  Speaking of films I wanted to see, I noticed that Red Tails is only showing at a coupla megaplexes in the suburbs now.  I’m surprised that one didn’t even last a month, though I suppose George Lucas kinda pushed it outta theatres by screening the first Star Wars movie in 3D.  In any case, I ended up going to see The Artist at the AMC Yonge-Dundas, where all movie screenings before noon are only six dollars.  On a holiday like today, it’s worth getting up early for.  And hey, this one’s up for a few Oscars, right?

One thing about watching a silent film at a modern cineplex is that you can hear the rumblings and explosions from next door during the quieter moments.  It’s somewhat akin to staging a post-rock gig at an art gallery next to a nite club.  (Been there, seen that.)  But it is truly an impressive acting feat to convey a message without words, and all the Oscar nominations, including those for the two leads, French actors Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo, are well deserved.  You know who got snubbed by the Academy, though?  Uggie the dog!  Seriously, that is one skilled actor, right there…

And while it was set in the late 20′s/early 30′s, the basic premise of The Artist still applies today.  Hollywood is a cruel mistress, one that chews up and spits out stars every second.  I mean, how many big movie stars from the 80′s got left behind, relegated to reality TV–or worse, death by OD?  This isn’t limited to the film industry either, but the entertainment industry as a whole.  Just look at the recent deaths of Jani Lane and Whitney Houston, two singers who were on top of the world 20 years ago and had all but faded from the spotlight until their recent passings.  In fact, I couldn’t help but think of Whitney Houston while watching the rise and fall of Dujardin’s George Valentin.  The difference being that Valentin, the washed-up silent film star, had people to pull him out of the fire and help him get back on track.  No one was there to get Whitney out of the bathtub until it was too late.

The Artist‘s underlying theme was underscored by its casting of John Goodman in a major supporting role as studio head Al Zimmer.  I mean, when was the last time you saw John Goodman in a major motion picture?  The Big Lebowski? (Apparently, he had supporting roles in Evan Almighty and 2008′s Speed Racer, along with a part in this awesome movie, but I digress.)  It just shows that there is hope in Hollywood, I suppose.  But only if you’re a known commodity.  Getting your picture in the paper with someone famous won’t make you the next big thing these days, ladies.  I mean, how many of Tiger Woods’ mistresses have gone on to usher in a new era of cinema or change the game of golf?  Last time I checked, he was still winning (or at least coming close)…