Well, what do you know? For the last quarter of 2011, ever
since I saw Nicolas Winding Refn’s stellar Drive,
the Ryan Gosling throwback drama has been my favorite release of the year. Between its
excellent cast, stellar visual directing and strong story, Drive was an easy choice for that top spot. Sadly, a slow box office
performance (exacerbated by the 3D re-release of The Lion King) resulted in an underrated status, and the film has
garnered hardly any award attention, a poor response to one of the more visually emotive films of the year. Sometimes though, the industry gets it right. For
months, I had been hearing nothing but great things about The Artist, the French-produced black and white silent film.
Besides these simple descriptors however, I knew nothing about the movie itself; I wasn’t
even sure that it really was a silent picture. Then the platitudes started coming
out. It was nominated for the Cannes Film Festival’s Palm D’Or (eventually won
by Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life) and
has been nominated for 6 Golden Globes, the most of any movie for 2011. For all
that, the actual subject matter of the film was still unknown to me, and
for that reason I had no expectations heading into The Artist when the film finally became available in my area this
past week.
They're congratulating you for actually paying attention |
It’s 1927, and actor George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is the
biggest star of Hollywood’s silent film era. He knows it too, constantly
putting on a show for his fans, who eat up the antics of Valentin and his talented
dog, who doubles as his best friend. Meanwhile, Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) is
an up-and-coming actress who befriends and develops feelings for the
established star. At this point, things are going well. Soon, however, changes begin to appear. The invention of Talking
Pictures revolutionizes the movie industry, with more studios using the new format
every day. Despite George’s assertions that “Talkies” are a fad, even his
producers get in on the act, dropping its silent film stars and going giving
younger stars like Miller a big push. As Peppy Miller’s career soars to new
heights, George Valentin drops to new lows, and the struggling performer tries
to coexist with a world that has never needed to hear his voice before today.
Well, that answers that |
Likely one of the reasons I reacted so positively to the
story presented in The Artist was
likely that it was very similar to another film I saw in 2011, the classic Singing in the Rain, which also dealt
with the end of the silent film era. As amazing as that musical turned out to
be, I was far more impressed with the implementation of The Artist’s self-imposed silence and the hurdles it had to
overcome in the narrative department. Essentially a silent film concerning the
end of silent films, every performer needed to emphasize their visual cues to make
up for the fact that you can’t understand what they’re saying, and all the
performers are more than up for the challenge. Jean Dujardin especially has to
be the most visually emphatic performer, and he does so with such energy and
gusto that he is immediately appealing even though we never hear his voice throughout
the entirety of the film. With apologies to Michael Fassbender and his
outstanding performance in Shame,
Dujardin has become my newest Oscar favorite, with the strength of his performance
knowing no bounds. Still great (if not matching up to Dujardin’s level),
Bernice Bejo shows a propensity for the needed physicality for silent films
while putting up a strong performance in her own right. Secondary characters
including John Goodman, James Cromwell, Missi Pyle and Penelope Ann Miller do
good work in limited appearances, though the biggest actor not a lead is Uggie,
a Jack Russell Terrier who accompanies George Valentin everywhere. Uggie will
arguably be the biggest star to come out of The
Artist, and when you understand the wealth of talent around him, that’s no
light compliment.
It's so meta... |
While it’s amazing to see a real, honest-to-god silent film
on the big screen, it’s almost as nice to see where the film deviates from the
more happy-go-lucky titles of that age. When George pisses off his female lead,
she gives him the finger; stuff like this was never portrayed in the 1920’s (or
for several decades after) and modern-day additions like this makes the film
more honest and emotional. There is also a number of metaphysical scenarios
that are hilarious in the context of the film (watching an audience watch a
silent picture, a sign that asks for people behind a screen to be "silent", George’s wife asking
him why he “won’t speak”) that really help add to the humor inherent in the
script and cast. There’s never a dull moment, and even though you cannot hear
the inflection in a character’s delivery, you can get enough from their
gestures to understand the gist of the funny. The Artist also features some physical humor, but thankfully the
film doesn’t bet the bank on it, preferring you to actually laugh at the
situations and not the jokes.
He smokes a big honking cigar; you know he's in charge |
But it’s The Artist’s
heart that really makes it the best movie this year. Yes, that’s right, I said
it; The Artist is 2011’s #1 film. Thanks to director Michel Hazanavicius, the film is simultaneously different from everything you've ever seen while completely comfortable in the moment. At
times both funny and sad, melancholic and hilarious, The Artist is easily the year’s most well-rounded release. Even if the
idea of a silent film turns you off, trust me and go out to see this release. It
is the best movie of the year, it SHOULD
be treated like the best movie of the year, and you’ll be kicking yourself if you miss the
best movie of the year.
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