French director Michel Hazanavicius made a bet on his upcoming movie The Artist to prove that in 2011, a black and white silent movie could be a success. As it so happens, The Artist was a winning bet, and the Wenstein Brothers, who own the rights for American, British, and Australian distribution, knew it right away. The film follows the downfall of a silent movie star, George Valentin (played by Jean Dujardin), and an upcoming actress, Peppy Millerat (Bérénice Béjo) at a time when the “talkies” are gaining popularity. It is a lovely story about love and friendship, pride and altruism, evolution and heritage.
Some criticism has been made regarding the shallow romance between the two protagonists but you do not go to see The Artist for their story. You see The Artist to engage with the cinematic history addressed by the movie: it depicts, with a great deal of sensibility and humour, the figure of the actor in the ‘20s, when the cinematic world was full of frantic activity. The Artist is full of references to the great masterpieces, from Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane to Rogers and Astaire musicals. Hazanivicius is paying a tribute to the “seventh art form,” as film was once described, and he does it perfectly.
The duo, composed of Bérénice Béjo and Jean Dujardin — who were already seen together in Hazanavicius’ OSS 117 — produce a remarkable example of alchemy. Dujardin’s subtle and moving performance, for which he was awarded the Cannes Film Festival “prix d’interprétation masculine” last May, is outstanding. The rest of The Artist’s wonderful cast also deserves mention: John Goodman (The Big Lebowski, Pirates of the Caribbean) plays the cigar-smoking director perfectly; James Cromwell (The Green Mile, The Queen) in the role of the devoted butler convincingly stands as the film’s figure of morality; and the dog Uggy, who was granted the Palme Dog at Cannes this year, is also one of the most talented characters in this movie.
In the end, The Artist is a bold bet that uses both outstanding images and a great deal of humour and ultimately makes a powerful reflection on the evolution of cinema itself. At a time when digital cinema is taking over and every box office hit is in 3D, The Artist is a film that makes you want to rediscover Griffith, Eisenstein or Chaplin’s movies. The film also begs the viewer to question whether or not the technical innovations that are prevalent in today’s film industry are a positive evolution. More importantly, The Artist reminds us of one very simple fact: masterpieces are timeless, and so is the cinema.
