Have you ever been to a party, and there’s that one guy who torments people who aren’t familiar with indie French films from the 50s?
The guy that you should avoid at all costs if you haven’t watched Pulp Fiction, Fight Club, or Goodfellas because they will work it into any conversation?
The guy that picks apart a film and tells you of behind-the-scenes easter eggs that not even the director intended?
That right there is a Film Bro (/film: brəʊ/): a movie nerd who boasts their knowledge of cinema, often making it their entire, annoying personality. Film bros are people who make it their obligation to enforce underground movies to the unenlightened.
As you might’ve guessed, I’ve had my fair share of film bros and with time, I’ve learned that the only way to take down a film bro is to beat him at his own game. Once they recommend a foreign A24 biopic, you raise them to an equally underground genre— say, silent films. Silent films are a genre that will not only silence their critiques, but a genre you might find enjoyable yourself.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Silent films? How am I going to enjoy a boring black-and-white movie with empty-mouthed, cartoonish characters and title cards being the only means of dialogue, especially when we’re all accustomed to colorful, loud films with lively characters and storylines?
I thought the same thing, but when I discovered The Artist (2011), it made me change my mind about the silent genre forever. The Artist is an Academy Award, Golder Globe, Cannes, BAFTA, and César award-winning French silent film that follows the story of lovable, yet egocentric silent star George Valentin (played by Jean Dujardin) in 1920s Hollywood, and his affections toward smalltime actress Peppy Miller (played by Bérénice Bejo). However, the industry separates them with the revolution of sound films, or “talkies,” leading Miller to become Hollywood’s sweetheart, while Valentin is a star of the past. While Miller embraces film’s new technology, Valentin’s pride refuses to accept sound as legitimate filmmaking, especially as a person with a career and audiences built around his silent stardom.
Not only does this movie satisfy as a slow-burn romance between the two creatives, pressured by Valentin’s deteriorating marriage, but it also shows the viewers the golden age of Hollywood, and how the transition to sound films both created and destroyed the careers of actors.
This movie encaptures every aspect of the silent era – well almost every aspect, as the director introduces sound at the film’s concluding musical finale once Valentin finally accepts the industry’s conversion to talkies and allows himself to act in sound films, leading to him uttering his first words in the film. Its little techniques and symbolisms that the film uses make it worthwhile–- whether it’s the painstaking detail of the flapper-era costume design, the effortless choreographies of tap numbers, or the palpable tension between the protagonists, it’ll seem like sound is unnecessary to express such a powerful storyline.
So, whether it’s made in 2011 or 1911, I urge you to try silent movies–- a timeless genre that’ll transport you to a world with mesmerizing characters, dance sequences, and plotlines. Not only will you enjoy a hidden genre, but you’re guaranteed wisdom to counterattack any film bro. Tonight’s homework is to, (1) pop some popcorn, (2) put on a silent flick, and (3) prepare yourself for a film-bro-free life.
Now, onto your next obstacle: finance bros.