The Artist

 The Artist

Warner Bros. (France), 2011

Directed by Michel Hazanavicius

Starring: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, Jon Goodman

Four stars

Immediately after walking out of The Artist, Michel Hazanavicius' gloriously executed love letter to the silent era of cinema, the first thing I said was: "well, that's the Best Picture winner." It's not necessarily because it's the best film of the year (though a strong argument could be made for just that), but because of the emotions it evoked inside of me, feelings that felt remarkably similar to those I experienced with films like The King's Speech and Slumdog Millionaire. That's because The Artist is, among many other things, an absolute crowd-pleaser. As the credits rolled at the end of the film, the audience (an almost sold-out crowd) erupted with applause, a smile on every face in the theater, and those things, combined with the fact that there is no legitimate competitor, make it an almost surefire winner. And why not? The Artist is a gorgeously, lovingly made film: heartwarming, saddening, jarring and funny in all the right places, and wonderfully acted, meticulously directed and strong in every technical field. It is such an enjoyable and enrapturing experience, in fact, that audiences will forget it's a silent film at all.

I personally have spent little time with silent cinema, but after seeing The Artist, I had to ask myself why that was. In this day and age, I think it has become difficult for many of us to wrap our heads around a film whose narrative revolves more around its score and the facial expressions and body language of its actors than it does around scripted lines (though, of course, lines do pop up on the screen, when necessary), but this is the same day and age where many films emphasize style and special effects over story anyway. Perhaps that's why something like The Artist feels so new and refreshing, even though it is, in reality, a return to a very old way of doing things. But even still, I don't think The Artist will win Best Picture solely because of the "silent gimmick," but because it is such an entertaining and well made film, with a story truly worth telling. If there is a gimmick here, it's that Hazanavicius creates the film as a complete love letter to cinema history (just like Scorsese did with Hugo, or, to a lesser extent, like Nicolas Winding Refn did with Drive, both of which had silent elements about them).

 

The performances, across the board, are strong as well, from Jean Dujardin as George Valentin a silent movie star displaced by the "talkie film" revolution, to Jon Goodman as his colorful producer, to Bérénice Bejo as Peppy Miller, the young actress who becomes the face of "talkie" cinema, and in doing so, essentially replaces Valentin. Dujardin and Bejo share a palpable chemistry built almost entirely on body language and expression, and watching their relationship form and change throughout the film is a marvel. Both actors deserve Academy Award nominations for their work here, and each has a chance to win, which I wouldn't mind at all, as both are fantastic. And then there's the scene stealing dog (how great is that?), who is so remarkable well trained that he colors every scene he's in, both joyful and dire, with a comic charm that would be impossible to recreate outside of the silent genre. The film is a technical tour-de-force as well, from it's striking black and white cinematography (there are more than a few instantly memorable shots throughout this film), pitch perfect film editing, and surprisingly, some truly brilliant sound work. The Artist is obviously notable for its silent aspects, but it's also worth noting that the film makes some of the best use of sound I've seen all year. A dream sequence early on, where Valentin is consumed by an explosion of noise, symbolizing the changing of the guard, is one of the most breathtaking cinematic experiences of the year, and could easily go down as one of my favorite scenes of the decade. While the thought of a silent film receiving a sound editing mention at the Oscars seems a bit absurd, it's worth noting that I have rarely been more struck by the instance of noise in a film. 

 

When The Artist wins the Best Picture Oscar (and I would be willing to place money on it winning), I certainly hope it is not written off as "the silent film," because even though it will be the first film of that qualification to win the Oscar since Wings (the first Best Picture, back in 1927), it really is so much more than that. It's a feast of filmmaking and performance prowess that is nearly unequaled this year, a refreshing change of pace and, at its heart, a wonderful story with well drawn characters. While I'm not sure if I would want to call it the best film of the year myself (there is still so much I need to see!), The Artist is easily one of the most notable films, this year or any other in recent memory, and I won't mind watching it dominate on Oscar night, whether it has a sweep, of sorts (Picture, Director, Actor, Supporting Actress, Film Editing, Original Screenplay, Cinematography, Art Direction, Costume Design, Original Score and Make Up all seem to be possible/likely nominations, and it could win roughly half of those), or just walks away with a few prizes at the top. And if the world ends in December (damn you, Mayans!), I think it would be nicely fitting for the last Best Picture winner to be a return to the form of the first. Lolz.