Perilous Threads

In Argo, the latest film from director Ben Affleck, the lives of six people are literally defined by pieces of paper. These include fake passports, disembarcation cards, phony resumés and most hauntingly, scraps of shredded paper. It is this fragile balance that gives this true story its power and immediacy, as we watch this knowing that any of these six people could be our co-workers, friends or even ourselves. More than a recreation of an historical event, Argo asks the viewer to understand how so many things had to go right for these people to survive; government agencies may have power to take action, but in the final analysis, those logistics depend on brave people carrying them out.

Argo is based upon the famous incident in November, 1979 when more than fifty employees of the American embassy in Tehran, Iran were captured and taken as hostage. The people responsible for this act did so as a form of protest regarding the United States offering asylum to the Shah of Iran, who had been recently overthrown. President Jimmy Carter, seeing that the Shah was in poor health, allowed him to come to American to spend his final days.

Affleck begins the film with a brief history of Iran - shown as comic book frames - starting from centuries prior all the way up to the point in 1979 when the Ayatollah Khomeini took charge of his country. The film immediately puts us in harm's way, as we are there at the embassy grounds seeing how the everyday business of granting visas is juxtaposed with the angry mob storming the gates, desperate to get in and create a scene. They succeed in breaking down the barriers and entering the building at various positions and while the embassy troops do what they can to fight off the mob with tear gas, they are hopelessly outnumbered; the employees are taken as hostage.

Amidst this chaos, six employees escape via a side entrance and hurry along local streets, fearing for their safety. They quickly come upon the residence of Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber), who lets them into his home. As long as they stay in his house, they are safe - or at least until the Iranian police squads can find them.

The Central Intelligence Agency immediately learns of these six and realizes they must be rescued before they are discovered, but how? One of the most powerful agents at the Virginia headquarters calls in Tony Mendez (Affleck in full beard), an "exfiltration" agent who had successfully led previous rescue missions overseas. Mendez explains the risks involved to the agency heads, but can't come up with a plan until he is inspired by a science fiction movie he watches on tv. His solution? He will create new identities for these six, who will now become employees of a film production company from Canada who are in Iran to shoot a futuristic epic.

While the agency bosses are initially leery of such a plan ("Don't you have a better bad idea?," asks one of the agents), Mendez eventually convinces them that this is their only alternative. Of course, to convince anyone that the six "Canadians" are truly there to make a movie, he has to create one. He meets with John Chambers (John Goodman), an Oscar-winning makeup artist as well as a former CIA agent and down and out producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin, who is hilarious) to come up with the film, screenplay and production company. Their choice is a ridiculous Star Wars-inspired adventure entitled Argo, which everyone admits will be a pretty cheesy film.

The three of them do their job brilliantly, even convincing Variety, the Hollywood show-biz Bible, to run a story about the film's upcoming production. One of the best sequences in the movie is a read through of the script at a lavish party, as the film's performers, garbed in ridiculously absurd costumes, act out their parts. Just to remind us how phony this world is, Affleck then intercuts to a scene of the captured hostages being hooded and led to the embassy basement where they face Iranian soldiers who fire their empty weapons at them - just to see the fear in the Americans. It's a brief, but chilling moment that displays the insanity - or absurdity, if you will - of this entire situation.

Affleck does an excellent job presenting this various layers of this story; things start to get quite tense once his character arrives in Iran and meets with the six in their hideout. A few are reluctant to go along with this plan, fearing it will be instant suicide, but eventually they realize they must act as a team. The scene where Mendez takes them through the streets of Tehran, as they are supposedly scouting possible locations for their film, is beautifully directed by Affleck, as we see the anxiety on the faces and in the body language of these six; there's a nice piece of business when Mendez has to tell one of them that he's looking through the wrong end of a viewfinder. As they walk along a busy avenue amidst a huge throng of locals carrying on their everyday business, they cannot help but feel they are being watched; this sequence is nicely staged and directed with just the right feel.

In his two previous directorial efforts, Gone Baby Gone (2007) and The Town (2010), Affleck displayed impressive talent, especially in terms of atmosphere as well as timing; he presented the action in these films in a manner that was not rushed, letting his actors have their moments. His cutting was quite notable on the latter film, especially in the opening and closing robbery scenes. Now with Argo, Affleck does an even better job with cross cutting, especially toward the end of the film where we go back and forth between the plight of the six at the airport as they wait upon customs and security to let them board their flight and C.I.A. headquarters where split second decisions must be made by a few agents if this mission is to succeed. This is a classically structured sequence, as we're on the edge of our seat waiting to learn the protagonists's plight. One can finally take a deep breath once this action is played out.

With Argo, Affleck has taken his next step as a director, capturing the power of images. I wrote at the start of this post about pieces of paper being a literal factor in the lives of the six. The most unforgettable image in this film is that of Iranian children huddled in a room assembling shredded documents that when assembled properly will identify these escapees; the fact that the Iranians could go to such lengths is a sign of the ruthlessness in which they went about their deeds. These long, thin pieces of paper are flimsy, yet also very powerful when fit together. Contrast that with the story boards of the phony film that Affleck carries with him to convince the Iranians that his production company will make their fantasy/adventure film and you realize how people's lives can be saved or destroyed by a mere document. It's a chilling message.

A Silent Triumph

The Artist is a sweet, utterly charming movie that understands the audience's love of what movies represent. This silent film (except for two wonderful moments I will not reveal) is both a beautifully told story about an actor who sees his fortunes change during the transition from silent films to talkies as well as a look at the joy of making movies, both in terms of today's cinema as well as in years past.

Directed by French filmmaker Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist tells the story of silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), who as the story begins, is standing behind the curtain of his latest film at its 1927 premiere. While others, such as studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman) wait anxiously for the audience's reaction, Valentin is confident that the moviegoers will love his new work and sure enough, just as the film ends, there is thunderous applause. 

As The Artist is a silent film itself, Hazanavicius cleverly shows us the audience clapping their approval, but we cannot hear the sound of their appeciation. Valentin steps in front of the curtain along with his trusted canine friend, a charismatic Jack Russell terrier who always seems to be at the side of the actor, both on and off-screen. Valentin proceeds to ham it up in front of the audience, taking bows far beyond the normal time any other actor would be allowed, much to the chagrin of his leading lady, though Zimmer, who is used to this behavior, doesn't seem to mind; after all, this is his meal ticket.

As he meets his fans outside the theater, one admiring female named Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) stumbles from the crowd and bumps into Valentin. She is embarrassed at first and Valentin is puzzled, but after this awkward beginning, they laugh and pose for the cameras, with Miller even stealing a kiss from him. A photo of this brief encounter runs in publications across the country with the headline, "Who's That Girl?"

I won't give away too many more plot details, but it is important to know that from that moment on, the two of them will be linked forever more. They will make a film together and eventually she will become a starlet in Hollywood, while his fame decreases. Valentin will become morose and feel sorry for himself, but Miller will always be there for him and if he will only let her help him, as she says in the film, he can meet with renewed success. 

If The Artist consisted merely of this story of how these two characters alternately discover the joy as well as the despair of sudden fame, it would be more than enough to make this film a success. The two characters are wonderful icons, Valentin, the dashing star and Miller, the irresistible young discovery. Aiding greatly in our appreciation of these two characters are the performances of these actors, especially that of Dujardin. The actor has the necessary good looks for the role of a film star, but it's his physical mannerisms that really convince us of his talent. He's light on his feet, elegantly maneuvering his way through good and bad times. Bejo is just lovely here, as she clearly has a face the camera loves (as does Hazanavicius, her real-life husband) and her facial expressions are perfect, whether she is expressing joy during an audition or surprise when being discovered during a simple dance step she performs at the studio.

But The Artist give us so much more than a heartwarming story, as it's also an unabashed tribute to silent films and even a few sound films of the past. The story of his downfall and her success has that A Star is Born theme, while the scene of Valentin watching his old films in his drab apartment by himself is straight out of Sunset Boulevard. Hazanavicius understands that the audience knows and loves those films and plays upon our admiration. He also includes a scene at the dining table of Valentin and his wife (Penelope Ann Miller), where she reads a paper as he tries to express his true feelings toward her. This is a direct tribute to a similar scene in Citizen Kane, one of the cinema's most iconic works. 

While I loved these tributes, I do have one quarrel with this approach and it's when the director includes the famous love theme from Vertigo, composed by Bernard Herrmann. While this music does transmit the emotions on the screen at this point in the film, it's debatable as to why it's included here. It's an iconic piece of music and to anyone who's ever seen Vertigo, this cue will be forever linked with that work, so when we hear this music in this situation, it takes us away from the film we're watching and instantly transports us to that famous Hitchcock work. As The Artist features a delightful original score by Ludovic Bource - a score that has the charm and bounce you'd expect from a silent film - it's really a mystery as to why the director didn't just have Bource write music for this particular sequence as well.

That aside, Hazanvicius made so many great decisions with this work and let's give him credit for making The Artist. How much of a risk was this, making a black and white silent film in 2011? Who would think such a movie could ever be successful? Hazanavicius, who also wrote the story and screenplay, has given us a movie that succeeds not because it is a piece of fluff (as some reviewers have termed the film), but because it is an enchanting, clever and highly entertaining work that reminds all of us of the pleasures of filmgoing in our youth - and of the sheer joy that can still be gained when moviemakers use their God-given talents to craft a film that delights us with its simple and heartfelt moments that celebrate life - both on and off-screen.