The Artist

Saw The Artist this Thursday and I loved it, but to be honest, I’m having trouble articulating why. I usually can’t stand it when people use words like “cute” or “charming” or the phrase “has heart,” but really, that’s exactly how I would describe The Artist. It has that old charm of classic Hollywood films. Let’s face it, we all can guess how the film is going to end. But just like the really good classic films, the fun is in following the characters on that path.


The plot to this film is very similar to Singin’ In The Rain; both films are about a silent film star trying to stay relevant as new stars rise in the talkies. I’m going to be completely honest with you; I have not seen the entire film. (I know, I know.) I was supposed to but…well, it was freshman year of college. Therefore, I’m not going to go into comparisons between Jean Dujardin and Gene Kelly or Bernice Bejo and Debbie Reynolds. That’s just silly anyway; although The Arist definitely wants you to think of Singin’ In The Rain, making a direct comparison is unfair. The Artist is a silent film, knows it’s silent, and takes advantage of that. The main characters perfectly show the difference between the silent and talkie era. Dujardin’s character, George Valentin, is perfectly charismatic in his mannerisms. He has an easy smile, a knack for physical comedy, and the broad mannerisms that make an excellent silent film star. Bejo’s character, the aptly named Peppy Miller, has the same knack for dancing and physical comedy, but she also has an extra spark; she’s talkative. Compared to the other characters, she speaks a mile a minute, even though we only get a few dialogue cards. Her jabbery energy allows her to easily transition from her first role in a Valentin film to a top billing star in talkies, but she still keeps her love for silent movies. I should also mention James Cromwell, who serves well as Clifton, George’s long-suffering butler.

As I said before, the film’s ending is not a surprise. What is a surprise is the amount of depth in the characters; underneath all the technical and nostalgic elements of the film is two very emotional performances. This is melodrama not in the disparaging sense, but in the sense that we are shown these stylized yet deep emotions.

Not that the technical elements should be ignored. After all, making a silent film in this day and age is, at the very least, ballsy as hell. But it immediately shows you that, as any intro film professor will tell you, these films are never truly silent. The score is beautifully retro, matching but not overstating the melodrama of the story.
We are also shown this in the first scene, where we see the orchestra playing along with George’s latest film. There also are two moments with sound, and both of them focus on a specific element of sound design. There is a large difference between lack of audible dialogue, which is what we usually think of when we think of silent films, and lack of foley and sound effects, which is often forgotten.

If The Artist is playing in your area, you should definitely go see it right now. It’s fun and moving and a love letter to 20s cinema without damning the progress of sound. It’s been getting a lot of awards buzz, and frankly, it deserves all of it.

[originally posted 12/25/11]