“Silent films can weave a unique enchantment… I also love black and white, which some people assume they don’t like. For me, it’s more stylized and less realistic than color, more dreamlike, more concerned with essences than details.” – Roger Ebert
That’s right, The Artist is a silent, black-and-white movie. And it is perhaps the best movie that came out in 2011 (I’m still making my Top 10 of 2011 list; look for it closer to the Academy Awards) and the favorite to win Best Picture (even though it’s a French movie, there’s no talking, so it’s not categorized as a Foreign Film). The Artist is an unheard force of artistic display, thriving on the silence of its characters, rather than being inhibited by it. It reminds me of the First Act of WALL-E in that regard; both are quiet movies that still speak powerfully to the audience.
Obviously we eventually heard dialogue in WALL-E, but in the case of The Artist, silent means that we don’t hear any character speak at all. Obviously they talk to each other, but the meaning of their unheard words is entirely inferred from facial expressions, the musical score (so it’s not completely silent!) composed brilliantly by Ludovic Bource, or the occasional text caption. Such a feat requires talent of the highest degree, and French director Michel Hazanavicius has assembled the perfect cast for the film.
In the starring role of George Valentine, a silent movie star struggling to remain relevant after the introduction of “talkies,” is French comedic actor, Jean Dujardin. Dujardin has made his way in French cinema by taking on mostly comedies, being especially known for the OSS 117 film series (essentially the French version of Get Smart), also directed by Hazanavicius. Comedies have helped Dujardin develop the comedic timing and delicately controlled facial expressions which were so key to his success in The Artist.
That’s right, The Artist is a silent, black-and-white movie. And it is perhaps the best movie that came out in 2011 (I’m still making my Top 10 of 2011 list; look for it closer to the Academy Awards) and the favorite to win Best Picture (even though it’s a French movie, there’s no talking, so it’s not categorized as a Foreign Film). The Artist is an unheard force of artistic display, thriving on the silence of its characters, rather than being inhibited by it. It reminds me of the First Act of WALL-E in that regard; both are quiet movies that still speak powerfully to the audience.
Obviously we eventually heard dialogue in WALL-E, but in the case of The Artist, silent means that we don’t hear any character speak at all. Obviously they talk to each other, but the meaning of their unheard words is entirely inferred from facial expressions, the musical score (so it’s not completely silent!) composed brilliantly by Ludovic Bource, or the occasional text caption. Such a feat requires talent of the highest degree, and French director Michel Hazanavicius has assembled the perfect cast for the film.
In the starring role of George Valentine, a silent movie star struggling to remain relevant after the introduction of “talkies,” is French comedic actor, Jean Dujardin. Dujardin has made his way in French cinema by taking on mostly comedies, being especially known for the OSS 117 film series (essentially the French version of Get Smart), also directed by Hazanavicius. Comedies have helped Dujardin develop the comedic timing and delicately controlled facial expressions which were so key to his success in The Artist.
With his talents, Dujardin constructs a character whom we come so effortlessly to like, while simultaneously understanding his hubristic flaws. Valentine is a silent film star, the best in his trade. But when an actor’s identity is entirely defined by popular opinion and relevancy, is it worth changing who you are to rediscover a sense of purpose? Or is the value of your character more than what you do or what other people think? Those are the inner struggles Valentine faces, and Dujardin connects with us so strongly that we empathize with him every step of the way.
He is joined by his co-star, French actress Bérénice Bejo, known best to American audiences for her turn as Christiana in A Knight’s Tale. Her character Peppy, a rising star in talking films, is spunky, lovable, and gorgeous to boot. We easily fall in love with her as Valentine does and hate that her success and the success of her talking films ultimately means the demise of Valentine’s career. Can Valentine love a woman who is now the poster-child for the evolving industry that abandoned him? We know she’s worth it and the pure, lively nature Bejo infuses into the role makes us root for Valentine to see it too before the end.
Side characters add the silver lining to this black-and-white film, with emotive performances from John Goodman (The Big Lebowski) as a movie producer, James Cromwell (The Green Mile) as Valentine’s butler, and especially from the Jack Russell terrier Uggie (Water for Elephants) as Valentine’s dog. Admittedly, having an animal play such a prominent role is a risk if you take it too seriously (see: War Horse), but Uggie’s parts are fun in their silliness and reflect the simpler, more innocent times The Artist represents. Can parts of the film be over the top? Sure. But The Artist is meant to romanticize the birth of modern film-making, much like the recent Hugo (although The Artist certainly keeps the audience more interested than the beautiful, but dull Hugo).
Ultimately, The Artist is film which is different than any you’ve ever seen; echoing the themes found in other acclaimed movies about the shift from silent films to talkies like Singin’ in the Rain (Dujardin even looks kinda like Gene Kelly!) and Chaplin (for which Robert Downey Jr. was nominated for an Academy Award), but approaching them in an entirely different way, itself a tribute to a forgotten art-form. Many people will automatically dismiss this film because they think they don’t like black-and-white movies or silent movies. To them I say, give The Artist a chance; it will prove you wrong.
The Final Word: Go buy a ticket.
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