The Artist

It’s a tough gig, finding a 21st century audience for a black and white silent film complete with onscreen title cards and continuous music score. It’s an even tougher gig trying to review said film without being caught up in the inevitable tidal wave of critical acclaim and admiration for its sheer boldness and artistic flair. But let’s overlook that Michel Hazanavicius’ The Artist is a dead cert to win all the big prizes at this year’s Academy Awards and focus instead on why it’s a truly exceptional film in its own right.

This is a nostalgic Tinseltown tale set during the 1920s, when movie stars didn’t talk, studios controlled the industry and the Hollywoodland sign still dominated the landscape. George Valentin (Jean du Jardin,) is at the height of his fame, with a string of box office hits to his name and the whole world at his feet. But the arrival of talkies spells disaster for Valentin, who fails to comprehend the craze surrounding this new medium and is reluctant to move with the times (there is a potential analogy to be drawn with today’s filmmakers resisting the advent of 3D, but that’s a debate for another blog). It is not long before the actor begins to feel the full brunt of his stubbornness.   

As with any arthouse flick, some detractors will surely snipe at The Artist for its minor flaws, such as the relative simplicity and straightforwardness of the plot, which in truth throws no real curveballs. After all, this is a classic rags to riches story – or rather, riches to rags to riches again. But this being a film devoid of dialogue (well, almost), there is only so much you can do with plot twists.

And anyway, the uniqueness of The Artist lays not in the originality of the story, but in the way it is told. In a bid to portray the protagonist’s fears of becoming obsolete, Valentin has a nightmare in which sounds eerily begin to creep into his reality, to the point where the noise of a feather touching the floor becomes deafening. Meanwhile, scenes of Valentin’s gradual fall from grace are effectively juxtaposed with those of Peppy Miller’s (Berenice Bejo) rising star as she, much to the protagonist’s dismay, becomes an overnight sensation in a series of talkies.

Yet despite Hazanavicius’ impressive directorial accomplishment, major kudos should also go to the performances, considering the actors have to emote without the use of dialogue. Sporting the kind of smile that was made for the silver screen, French actor Jean Du Jardin has both the looks and the charisma to be a believable star of the silent era, but is also quietly impressive (“quiet” being the operative word) during his character’s darker moments. Meanwhile, Argentinian star Berenice Bejo is all peppy charm and appears to have been lifted directly from the cast of Gold Diggers of Broadway. The touching chemistry between the two performers comes alive whenever they share a dance floor. By the time the jazzy finale hits you, you will be hard pressed not to bounce up and start tip tapping away till the end credits roll off the screen.

5/5