Back in the day when I was a film major with hopes of becoming the next Scorcese or Spielberg, I was primed on the history of cinema with a battery of movie showings from the industry's infancy: from the experimental shorts and nickelodeons of Edison and Méliès to the dawn of the full-length feature, I was dazzled by the amazing innovations churned out by our first filmmakers in a surprising manner of only a couple decades.
My favorite part of those classes, however, was when we got to watch entries from the filmographies of two of my favorite film actors ever: Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. Both men were pioneers in various facets of the industry, and their ability to convey pure emotion through only body language and facial expressions (without the need of dialogue) cemented their legacies as true Hollywood icons.
It made me all the more resentful that movies released in my lifetime didn't take chances and emulate the silent era's power to move mountains without the need for words (the closest we got was probably the brilliant first third of Pixar's WALL-E). It's my pleasure, then, to say that Hollywood finally took that gamble with French director Michel Hazanavicius' joyful and terrific homage to silent films, The Artist.
It's 1927, and George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is arguably the biggest film star in Hollywood. Known for his charming, roguish persona and his Jack Russell terrier who appears in many of his films, Valentin has always been a bankable star, much to the delight of his Kinograph Studios boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman), and the chagrin of George's unhappy wife Doris (Penelope Ann Miller).
After the premiere of his latest movie, as he's posing for his adoring crowd, George literally bumps into aspiring actress Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo). After signing her an autograph and posing with her for press photographers (which becomes speculative romantic fodder for the tabloids the next day), George manages to get Peppy a job as an extra in his new film.
But times start getting tough for George. A couple years later, Zimmer introduces George to the new technology of the "talkies", which George laughs off as a fad. But this fad grows into a full-blown revolution, with George's career dwindling, while, at the same time, Peppy climbs the ladder to Hollywood superstardom. As the years pass by and the economy is bludgeoned by the Great Depression, George must reevaluate his career and contend with the changing times his beloved industry faces.
I can honestly say that I felt a rush of nostalgia watching The Artist, which is impossible seeing how the films it emulates existed more than six decades before my birth. But everything about The Artist is just right: from the bombastic, sweeping, Steiner-esque score by Ludovic Bource and the gorgeous period costuming and set design, to the era-appropriate 1.33:1 aspect ratio and the intertitle cards which stood in for dialogue.
But even those intertitles are surprisingly few and far inbetween, as it's clear that Hazanavicius' stellar cast doesn't need dialogue (spoken or no) to tell a beautiful story. Dujardin, with charismatic shades of Clark Gable, is wonderful as the dashing leading man facing a personal and professional downward spiral, doomed to become obsolete when he learns that audiences aren't interested in simple "mugging" for the camera.
Supplementing Dujardin's charisma is an absolutely radiant Bejo as the rising star whose career trajectory is in direct contrast with George's. With a glistening smile and a spunky attitude not unlike the many female stars of the silent era, Bejo is a revelation. The rest of the cast, though clearly overshadowed by the leads, give it their all, including the great John Goodman as the requisite cigar-chomping studio head, James Cromwell as George's trusted driver, and even the dog playing George's terrier is a showstopper in his own right.
The filmmakers would be right to worry about this generation's attention span being at odds with being able to sit through a silent film (with only a smattering of sound effects and audible lines, only used in the right places), but as a card-carrying member of the YouTube generation, I can easily say that with a terrific screenplay, loving direction, and a standout cast, The Artist is not only one of the best films of 2011, but a pleasant reminder that Hollywood still has plenty of respect and admiration for its golden years.
Letter Grade: "A"
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