Grade: 4/4 Stars
In a world in which great emphasis is placed upon how many texts, emails, Facebook comments, and Tweets a person makes and receives in a day, Michel Hazanavicius’ The Artist proves the old adage that sometimes a lot can be said without saying anything at all.
Transporting audiences back to “Hollywoodland,” 1927, The Artist takes the idea of a period piece to a whole new level, incorporating the black and white, silent film style used in all the major motion pictures of the era. For anyone concerned that silence means no noise to drown out the sound of munching popcorn, have no fear. The film incorporates a few clever scenes poking fun at the idea of a silent world as well as a brilliant, Oscar award-winning musical score by Ludovi Bource that succeeds in accompanying the action of the film without causing distraction and instead adding to the emotion produced by each scene with delightful instrumentals.
At the height of his silent film career, tragedy strikes George Valentin (Jean Dujardin, OSS 117 Series) as producer Al Zimmer (John Goodman, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close) and the rest of Hollywood decide to switch over to “talkies,” films with sound. Refusing to accept the fate of the film industry, Valentin desperately clings to the past as the rest of the world moves forward, leaving him behind as a fading memory.
Ushering in the fresh, young, new era of Hollywood, is the voice of newcomer Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo, Prey), an idealistic extrovert who falls into her role as America’s sweetheart, literally. As fate would have it, the very man whose career ends as he helps Miller’s career to begin, falls in love with the girl everyone in America seems to find enchanting.
Bejo and Valentin’s gregarious characters play off one another, producing a comical relationship that strays from the traditional romances of 1920’s films. Nevertheless, elements of drama and passion interweave seamlessly with the humor, creating for a believable, captivating on-screen romance, without every vocalizing words of love. Valentin earned his Oscar for his ability to convey emotion solely through body language, an homage to silent film actors and actresses.
The Artist incorporates cliché elements such as the lovable, Lassie-like dog to both mock and pay tribute to the film industry; tribute in the sense that a loyal dog always does add to the heartwarming effect of a film – it’s a cliché for a reason.
Balancing out the humor and satire are themes of betrayal, pride, and the coming of a new age that add to the sophistication already drawn upon by the elements of scenery and fashion. In today’s fast-paced world in which technological advancements seem to emerge every other day, the film’s commentary on reverence for the past calls forth the idea that perhaps our own society should take a step back from computers and recall old fashion ways of communication.
If you’re one of the skeptics out there wondering how on earth a black and white, silent film won the Oscar for Best Picture in the year 2012, not 1912, I encourage you to go to your local movie theater, get as comfortable in your uncomfortable chair as you can, and open your mind, giving silence a chance. Some critics say The Artist may not be for everyone, perhaps because it lacks the mind-bending visuals, deafening sound effects, and conversation-driven plotlines to which we have become accustomed; however, I am convinced that if you love movies, you will love this movie.