One of the most original films nominated for 10 Academy Awards this year is The Artist. Described by it's director Michel Hazanavicius as "a love letter to cinema," this film does a superb job taking it's viewer on a romantic pilgrimage during a time of major upheaval in the world of film. Many have shied away from this movie because it is "silent" and "old fashioned" but what they don't realize (and really couldn't unless they had actually seen the film) is that those choices were made not just for pure aesthetic effect but to immerse you into the world. It is terrific experiment in which music and actors work with the film itself to tell a story that is both simple and complex. It was a privilege to see this film, like I was granted access into a secret piece of history and then left to reflect on everything that I had seen.
Jean Dujardin as "George Valentin" |
While the storyline itself was not intricate or complex, it was in the execution that its brilliance shone through. For example, most of the film was indeed silent with music being one of the only audible noises. This allowed for the music to become another character and it chose the role of narrator. When sound was introduced, it was just as rewarding as it was terrifying. Since it was so foreign and jarring, we felt the way Valentin felt. I was amazed by the way in which the film did this over and over again to its audience. It was as if I was both friend and foe, toy and tool. Another example of this was when in all of the main characters' encounters. Peppy, the young starlet, does most of the talking and even though we can only read her words, we feel burdened and overwhelmed by it all. Again, we feel what Valentin feels, exhausted by her chatter and we begin to hone in on his struggle to understand and love her. Although we could not hear them, we felt the difference in their means of communication. We were taught a language and were just as scared to learn the new one as our main character was. This fear showed that this massive change was not only cinematic, it was cultural.
I really appreciated many aspects in the film as there was a seamless use of modern and classic cinematic references. For example, the credits in the beginning of the film were just as they were for many films of that era with a slew of ellipsis connecting the character name to the actor's. The film was also black and white which keeps distractions to a minimum whilst also adding an air of authenticity. The subtitle cards were also more for feel as some the first few were necessary. After that, you were used to reading the character's lips or not relying on speech at all. As humans, we don't really need to talk in order to communicate. This film really proved that often times, words just complicate what it is we are trying to say and in the end, actions do speak louder.
George (Dujardin) and Peppy (Bejo) |
In short, The Artist certainly was more than a new take on an old favorite. It provided a unique perspective that can be applied to many things and while many may think its silent nature limits its appeal, I believe it remains universal. We are not often afforded the point of view of the target of a revolution that is both charismatic and sympathetic. It is much more "American" to be on the side of the revolter, paving the way for change and those who do effect said change. However being a French film, The Artist gives us a chance to see things differently and appreciate a simple act in our technologically over-stimulated lives.
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