Peter Bradshaw revisits some of the movies that had a real feelgood factor for him in the last year
?�Peter Bradshaw's best of 2011
James Brown sang: "I feel good, I knew that I would ?" Readers might be surprised to hear that in 2011 I have shared Mr Brown's certainty. A lot of the really good films this year have been on dark and difficult themes (We Need To Talk About Kevin, Wuthering Heights, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) and sombre topics will attract the most talented, thoughtful film-makers. But 2011 for me has been a feelgood year in the cinema. This is partly because going to the cinema for me always feels good, no matter what the film is. People love the cinema because it is a uniquely sensual experience, swathed in darkness and then immersed in light and sound.
Feelgood is a tricky genre to pin down, but there have been some terrific and distinctively feelgood films around in 2011 and the king of them all has been The Artist, by the French director Michel Hazanavicius: a funny, clever, sweet-natured romance that is a tribute to Hollywood's silent era. The film is in black and white with no recorded dialogue, apart from a single significant word right at the very end; it has me running around the place like a kid, recommending it to everyone I meet. When people ask me for suggestions, normally there's a longish pause, while I weigh up the films I think they will like. But right now, the conversation goes like this: "Peter, have you see ?" "The Artist! The ARTIST! Go and see THE ARTIST! Right now! What are you standing here for?"
For those who have seen The Artist I feel a sense of fellowship in dreamy delight. For those who have not seen it, I feel a sharp pang of envy: for them, the rush of pleasure is yet to come. I am making plans to go and see it again and again. The sheer class of this film took everyone by surprise. The director Hazanavicius was previously known chiefly for a couple of spy film spoofs ? OSS 117: Cairo, Nest Of Spies and OSS117: Lost In Rio ? which I thought were very funny, but gave no clue as to the masterpiece that lay ahead. Their star was Jean Dujardin, who excelled as the cheesy smoothie, a French Roger Moore. Dujardin stars in The Artist, playing George Valentin, a lantern-jawed silent film hero whose gimmick is that he always stars opposite his adorable little dog. Through a twist of fate, he gives a career-boost to an ingenue-wannabe played by B�r�nice Bejo, who is besotted with him. But as the talkies come in, her career rises and his wanes and it looks as if their love has no future. I can hardly express what a joy this romance is: a treat for film-buffs, yes, but the thrill of the film does not reside in spotting the references to other silver-screen classics, but in the human story, acted out with delicacy and charm as well as zinging energy and fun.
I was also very happy ? more cautiously so ? to see a return to feelgood form from one of the great masters of the genre: Woody Allen. There was a time, from the late 70s and more or less straight through the 80s, when any new film from Allen was a must-see, serious or comic, it always provided a rush of pleasure. Then he lost his form. But a good deal of his mojo came back this year with Midnight In Paris.
Owen Wilson plays the Woody-ish character, a screenwriter who yearns to be a serious novelist. Mooching around his favourite city, Paris, at midnight, he finds himself involved in an Alice-in-Wonderland situation: like the best comedy, it has a serious underside, and Marion Cotillard plays the Frenchwoman who falls in love with him: she gives one of her very best performances. This isn't a perfect Woody Allen film, but it's a reminder of what high-IQ comedy looks and sounds like. And, yes, it feels very good.
This brings me to a lovely Italian film, with something of Allen and Fellini: Gianni Di Gregorio's Gianni E Le Donne, or Gianni And The Women, released in the UK under the title The Salt Of Life. The writer/director Di Gregorio plays himself as a hangdog-looking middle-aged guy who, having taken redundancy, has nothing to do but run errands for his dominating mother and obsess about sex, and the possibility of an illicit romance with the many attractive women who cross his path.
Poor Gianni is such a sweetheart. This was one of the most beguilingly feelgood films that I saw this year: it's a treat on DVD if you haven't seen it.
Hollywood comedy can be high-risk, particularly if you're looking for comedy with a feelgood flavour. This tends to mean romcoms, which in my experience are slushy cliche-fests with no proper gags: all rom and no com. But Kristen Wiig's Bridesmaids was a brilliant exception: Wiig plays Annie, who goes into emotional meltdown when she is asked to be a bridesmaid at her best friend's wedding.
It was romantic, and there was some love interest with the Irish actor Chris O'Dowd, but the main point is comedy about female solidarity. The comedy was uproarious and outrageous but there was a sweet ending and sisterly bonding. The irony and archness was all there, but with something reassuringly gentle as well.
There have been plenty of other feelgood-fests. Kenneth Branagh's comic book Thor was great fun, and Duncan Jones's Source Code was a tremendous piece of Twilight Zone weirdness. Joe Cornish's council-estate sci-fi comedy Attack The Block hit the sweet spot where funny meets warm-heartedness and Francois Ozon's spoof farce Potiche left me feeling very good. Well, I always feel good in the cinema ? and in 2011 I felt better than ever. Do go and see The Artist: I'm smiling just thinking about it.
Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/theguardian/2011/dec/13/best-films-2011-peter-bradshaw
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