When you watch a movie, do you see it as a wholly independent entity, unique unto the world — or perhaps as a the sum of umpteen other pieces of other films and stories? And perhaps more importantly, is it possible that a film can become obsolete, even contained within its historical context?
The Artist is a movie in the classic silent film era style: black and white, limited dialogue with “title cards” as necessary, and a backing musical score (in this case, a full orchestral one). But more than just being a silent movie (with a few twists I won’t spoil), it’s about silent movies and their obsolescence. And in way, it’s a commentary on the paradigm shifts of pop culture and technology intertwined. Or perhaps it’s just a delightful movie with a classic story and true heart. Either way, it’s damn good.
The film, directed by French comedy director Michel Hazanavicius, starts with the popular premiere of yet another movie by silent era star George Valentin, played by Jean Dujardin (OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies). But a chance accident outside the theater where he poses with ecstatic fan Peppy Miller, played by Bérénice Bejo — actually Hazanavicius’s wife (A Knight’s Tale), leads to Peppy’s appearance on newspaper headlines (“Who’s That Girl?”). She begins auditioning for any role at all in grand old Hollywood, and is working as a background dancer until another chance meeting with George ends up with him recommending her for a part in his latest movie. Although the grumpy and overly practical studio head Al Zimmer, played by John Goodman (Monsters, Inc., The Big Lebowski), doesn’t approve at first, Peppy’s star begins to shine brightly and soon overshadows her idol.
And then things truly begin to change, with the advent of the “talkies” — the new talking movies. Valentin is dismissive of the appeal and decides to make his own silent movie at the same time Peppy is working on a new, innovating non-silent movie. Naturally, the resolution seems predictable, but is sad nonetheless. How will George survive in this new world? And will he ever see his former protege again?
The Artist has a real joy to it underneath the gimmicky artistry of silence. In many ways, it’s a film that could’ve been around back then, but in other ways it never could — because it’s taken seeing the rise and fall of numerous changes in cinema to be able to look back and appreciate how things used to be. Change is inevitable, but always comes with loss. With no sound, performers were forced to be expressive with their bodies and faces in ways that would seem distracting nowadays. Each new innovation, be it color, CinemaScope, high definition, or 3-D — gains something new but loses a trick of something old.
As can be imagined, the performances shape this film and turn into something better — Jean Dujardin is a mastermind at emotion without sound, and he has a ridiculously charismatic smile. Bérénice Bejo matches him effortlessly though, being the perfect foil — at times his greatest friend and also his greatest threat. John Goodman is excellent, with the perfect sort of face for silent expressiveness, and a few other smaller roles (James Cromwell, Penelope Ann Miller) are good as well. Watching the movie, there was only one moment I thought was a little too over the top — for me, it changed the tone of the film to become a sillier sort of thing. While not a bad thing, perhaps the movie would’ve been better otherwise.
Regardless of how “meaningful” this film might be or aspires to be, it’s a very fun movie that will leave you smiling — and just perhaps, blinking away a few tears.
Clacked by Jeremy Fogelman 
on Dec 23, 2011 @ 01:37 EST5EDT
