The Artist

The film Singin’ in the Rain wove several established hits into a movie musical about the advent of the talkies. With The Artist, we have a non-musical version that uses the medium of silent film to tell its story: a world famous silent film star finds his world forever changed by the arrival of talking pictures. But what the film lacks in color and dialogue it makes up for in style, story, and performance.

With all of the recent awards The Artist has received and/or for which it has been nominated, it is all I can do to support its nominations and assure you that they are well-deserved. To pull off a silent film with such authenticity is nearly unimaginable, and yet director/writer Michel Hazanavicius has succeeded. And this is no Cast Away - aching hours without dialogue - but a charming romp in 30s Hollywoodland. Those familiar with cinema history will appreciate the iconic references the film utilizes, including imagery borrowed from Douglas Fairbanks films and Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane. I already mentioned Singin’ in the Rain, which told nearly the same story.

I could effuse about the many virtues of the film’s costume design, art direction, and cinematography... but instead, I will give you the highlights.

For their parts, Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo supply a vitality that hasn’t been seen onscreen since Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. A casual, comfortable charm that is irresistable. Dujardin harkens back to Fairbanks, William Powell, Gene Kelly, and Clark Gable. Bejo is maybe more modern than the average 30s starlet, but her enthusiasm is palpable. Both stars have a presence that vibrates onscreen, as do some of the supporting actors whose familiar faces obviously belong there. John Goodman, James Cromwell, and Malcolm McDowell - all reliably wonderful. McDowell’s role verges on ‘cameo,’ and I wouldn’t have minded seeing more of John Goodman’s character. It is strange to watch them without hearing their voices - though without them, they do just fine.

The unnamed character in the film is the score. The original music by Ludovic Bource is exceptional - evocative and emotional, appropriate for the period but appealing to contemporary audiences. The fact that the score communicates so much emotion and functions as an atmospheric guide makes it vital to the film’s success - I will be highly surprised and disappointed if the Oscar goes to another composer.

I would venture to say that the film’s only fault is its reliance on convention. The famous plot twists unravel too quickly, and it’s too easy to see where it’s going. As delightful as the performances are, it might not be enough to sustain the interest of some viewers. Still, far worse films have told the story in a much less satisfying way. Best Picture? Maybe, maybe not; It is an enjoyable movie about making movies, about how far we’ve come and how much we owe to those who came before. With so many movies today being made by and for the celebrities in them, it’s nice to see a picture devoted to The Artist.