In my illustrious career as a temporary worker, I would routinely get called for horribly random jobs. I worked in such enchanting places such as a Nationwide claims center, a windowless medical records room, and even a copier parts warehouse (which was formerly an adult DVD warehouse). Once, I was offered a one day gig as a mascot. A mascot. I was told I wouldn't even have to say anything, just kind of dance around and make obvious gestures. As a recent college graduate (read: broke jerk) who needed money, something inside of me said this is beneath you, don't do it. I told the woman that I wasn't interested, though I couldn't quite explain why.
Years later, the answer is obvious.
George Valentin isn't a worthless post-collegiate slacker. No, the protagonist of last year's The Artist, is actually a very successful movie star. Check that, silent movie star. One evening, in the middle of yet another shining moment for the dashing leading man, a young woman inadvertently stumbles into his limelight. George, being the relentlessly charming guy he is, welcomes her with a huge smile. She gives him a seemingly harmless kiss on the cheek, and then disappears back into obscurity. Well, for a couple hours anyway.
This woman, Peppy Miller, is absolutely stunning. Oh, and driven, too. After landing on the front page smooching Valentin, suddenly there's a national interest in her. With some of the sweetest dance moves not involving Hammer pants, Peppy lands a bit part as a dancer in the latest - surprise! - Valentin flick. Oh, no she didn't.
She did, and she does. All the way to the top. Peppy, with a touch of help from Valentin, instantly becomes a major Hollywood star. Valentin on the other hand, sees his fade just as quickly. Peppy embraces this new rage in Tinseltown, a little thing called sound. Valentin, the biggest silent star around thinks this too, shall pass. When prompted to consider this new found aural direction, Valentin hisses if that's the future, you can have it. Damn handsome pride.
Years later, the answer is obvious.
This woman, Peppy Miller, is absolutely stunning. Oh, and driven, too. After landing on the front page smooching Valentin, suddenly there's a national interest in her. With some of the sweetest dance moves not involving Hammer pants, Peppy lands a bit part as a dancer in the latest - surprise! - Valentin flick. Oh, no she didn't.
She did, and she does. All the way to the top. Peppy, with a touch of help from Valentin, instantly becomes a major Hollywood star. Valentin on the other hand, sees his fade just as quickly. Peppy embraces this new rage in Tinseltown, a little thing called sound. Valentin, the biggest silent star around thinks this too, shall pass. When prompted to consider this new found aural direction, Valentin hisses if that's the future, you can have it. Damn handsome pride.
