The Artist (2011)
If you havenât seen The Artist, youâre missing out. While some of the numerous awards it won may be tied to its veneration of old Hollywood, this could easily be your new favorite. Yes itâs in black-and-white, yes itâs silent and features artists you probably havenât heard of, but this is no vanity project and neither is it artsy for artâs sake. This picture is a glowing example of the way limitations breed creativity. When it comes to its visuals, storyline, acting, and writing, it stuns.
Beginning in 1927, the story follows silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) and his faithful dog Jack. George is on top of the world when suddenly, a new innovation in technology threatens his stardom: sound. As he struggles to adjust to a changing world, a young actress, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) rises through the Hollywood ranks.
I have tremendous admiration for this film. Not only because itâs gutsy to make a silent, black-and-white picture. I respect it for the clever way it shapes its story, how it takes what should be a handicap and makes it a strength. What better way to immerse you in the setting than to make a film that looks and feels authentic to the period?
Director Michel Hazanavicius (who also wrote the film) makes The Artist so much more than the sum of its parts. The pictureâs intertitles (the cards that appear with the dialogue being spoken) are a great example. Modern cinematic techniques mean there are very few but what's happening is unmissable due to the performances, uses of music, zooms, the way the shots are framed. What percentage of conversation do experts say is non-verbal again? So it makes sense that you don't really need to hear or read the words said; you just need to see how it impacts the characters. This film is about the performances and the story, not the dialogue.
When we get intertitles, they're cleverly used. Think about any mystery novel. How often does the author deliberately leave information out to enhance the story? Youâll read something akin to âThrough the ventilation grate, he heard a voice say âYour day has come now Johnnyâ and then, a gunshotâ. In a movie, that scene wouldnât work. The killer's voice would give their identity away. In a silent picture, that kind of trick works. The Artist takes full advantage of its medium in a way other films wish they could.
Most importantly, this is a terrific comedy, a poignant drama, and a romance that makes you fall in love with the characters. The actors have so much charisma they donât need to say anything. As soon as you see Jean Dujardin and BĂ©rĂ©nice Bejo together, you know thereâs something special there. It may be in black-and-white but thereâs a full color wheel of emotions to savor.
Itâs a story that gets better upon repeat viewings. After the conclusion, you reconsider a slew of the other scenes before them, giving you a whole new insight into the characters. I remember working at the video store when The Artist was released on home video. I recommended it to everyone looking for a love story, a comedy, or something different. I remember my heart breaking when someone who couldnât have been more than 10 years my senior said âitâs probably a movie my dad would like, but not meâ. It breaks my heart even more, having just re-watched it. Thereâs not one element of The Artist that makes it for a niche audience. This is a universal film anyone can enjoy. (On Blu-ray, September 23, 2016)
