The Artist : Movie Review

Set in the late 1920s, the story centers on George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), a famous movie star who is truly on top of the world. His movies are some of the biggest in Hollywood and he is constantly surrounded by fans who heap praise upon him. One day, by pure chance, he meets a young background actor named Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), with whom he has an instant connection. What he doesn’t know is that their careers about to take completely opposite trajectories. Ignoring the trades and warnings from a powerful producer (John Goodman) that talkies are becoming the big thing, George refuses to change up his act, and watches his career sink lower and lower as Peppy rides the talkie wave and gets bigger and bigger.

Much like actors in early films, star Jean Dujardin must over-emote in order to compensate for his inability to express himself verbally. But in doing so, he puts on a marvelous performance. A challenging role, to say the least, Dujardin never pushes himself so far that it becomes hammy and we always know exactly how he feels and what’s going through his mind. What’s more, the French actor looks as though he’s been ripped straight out of the era, looking perfectly natural wearing a tailcoat tuxedo and sporting a pencil-thin mustache. He sells the drama, makes us laugh and is, in short, perfect as George Valentin

Strictly speaking Mr. Hazanavicius’s film is not a silent movie. There is a lot of music on the soundtrack and also a few strategic moments of onscreen noise that are both delightfully surprising and wildly illogical. The whole conceit of the picture is spun in willful disregard of the laws governing time, space and sound, an embrace of the preposterous that is perhaps more reminiscent of the spirit of early French cinema than of the old Hollywood where the action takes place.

Mr. Hazanavicius accomplishes this with not only showy ambition but also a winning modesty that grows out of an appreciation that popular art is, above all, about the efficient and inventive delivery of fun. Its techniques are impressive and various, though its most persuasive special effects are Mr. Dujardin and Ms. Bejo, physically graceful performers with faces the camera cannot resist. He has a solid athleticism that meshes perfectly with her supple, long-limbed grace, and their features are at once iconic and lively, in the manner of the ancient movie stars to whom they pay tribute. 

Thanks in no small part to their expressiveness and dexterity — they dance beautifully and also portray emotion with just the right blend of naturalism and melodramatic exaggeration — “The Artist” is more than a clever pastiche of antique amusements. It may be something less than a great movie, but it is an irresistible reminder of nearly everything that makes the movies great. 

 What a wonderful picture this is: one of those films you yearn to watch again and again, while yet being fearful of spoiling the experience. It is one of the most eloquent movies imaginable.

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