‘The Artist’ is Magical Ode to Old Hollywood

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Rating: 5.0/5.0

CHICAGO – “The Artist” is the kind of film for which a critic feels an added responsibility. The fact is that I know that a large number of readers won’t go anywhere near a movie that is described as “a black & white ode to silent films.” Eek. Sounds like torture. And yet, I also know for a fact that a vast majority of those same readers would LOVE “The Artist.” This is a stellar piece of filmmaking, one of the best of the year. Jump on the bandwagon early for what will surely be one of the major players of the upcoming awards season.

“The Artist” isn’t just about the era of silent film, it IS a silent film. As hard-to-bear as that may sound, it is also one of the most joyous experiences you will have at the theater this season. The film drips with admiration and passion for the history of the form. It takes the timeless art of pantomime and proves yet again that film is primarily a visual medium. With so much modern screenwriting being overly heavy on expository dialogue, it’s so refreshing to see a piece of cinema that conveys emotion, character, and theme through channels that have become increasingly underutilized. With two performances that rank among the best of the year, this is simply a must-see.

The Artist
Photo credit: The Weinstein Company

A star in his own country, Frenchman Jean Dujardin (the lead of the “OSS 117” movies) plays the wonderfully-named George Valentin, a living legend when “The Artist” opens. It is 1927 and silent cinema is the diversion everyone needs from the real world. Valentin is on top of the world, starring in major hits for producer Al Zimmer (John Goodman) and making ladies swoon wherever he goes. One such lady is the lovely Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), who Valentin literally runs into and our dashing leading man becomes a bit smitten with the gorgeous ingénue. So does the rest of America as Peppy becomes the next big thing in Hollywood.

Problems arise when Peppy ushers in not only the next generation of actors but the talkies as well. George refuses to give up on silent cinema, even as most of the people around him give up on George. As he watches Peppy’s star rise, his begins to fall. Like a silent film of the ‘20s, “The Artist” features heaping spoonfuls of melodrama, but it’s all done with such wit and imagination that it feels like more than pure mimicry of a bygone era. “The Artist” couldn’t and wouldn’t exist as is in the 1920s and yet it also feels so reverential of its source era. It’s a looking glass view of that time and old-fashioned Hollywood, a trip down the rabbit hole to an alternate universe where things are similar but made slightly more poignant through hindsight.

The Artist
Photo credit: The Weinstein Company

The film works on every level but it would have fallen flat if not for the already award-winning work by the amazing Jean Dujardin. Any list of the best performances of the year that doesn’t include this one is woefully incomplete. He carries the film, appearing in nearly every scene, and he does so without a word of dialogue. Imagine if he wasn’t completely charismatic. What’s even more amazing is how rarely Dujardin gets to play the broad, mugging behavior that one might expect. It’s the little notes that he hits that are more memorable than the broad ones like the look on his face when he sees Peppy’s new film opening in a much bigger venue than his own or the way he can’t move past the young lady as they try to shoot a dance number (in easily one of my favorite scenes of the year).

Bejo hasn’t gotten nearly the press of her leading man, but she matches him and proves to be the tipping point that takes the film from good to great. She’s riveting, giving one of those breakthrough performances that only comes along a couple of times a year. Peppy Miller easily could have become little more than a plot device, a way to spin Valentin into his career decline. She’s never that, always matching her co-star in every charismatic way.

Technically, “The Artist” is a marvel. Hazanavicius writes, co-edits, and directs with such a craftsman’s eye that the film becomes not unlike a riveting magic act. You keep waiting to see the next trick pulled out of the hat and looking for the strings. Movies used to be more like magic than they are now and “The Artist” reminds us of that not by pointing out or through documentary but by doing something much more difficult – being magical itself.

By BRIAN TALLERICO Content Director HollywoodChicago.com brian@hollywoodchicago.com