Movies: The Artist
Friday, January 13, 2012
George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) and Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) are standing on the brink of great change in the way movies are made. Can they cope with it?
Photo: Guillaume Schiffman
Finally! The Artist has arrived in Las Vegas!
Now, I am very cautious about using exclamation points, but this movie (and the fact it is opening today in our city) is an exclamation point-worthy event.
If you pay attention to films, you know this is the one to beat in awards season. Some critics love it, others are dismissive of its value. I am, as you probably guessed, in the first group.
I am not a silent movie fan and the last time this was tried — by Mel Brooks in 1976 — I found it boring and pretentious. But, this time, terrific acting, perfect cinematography and a plot that really could have happened at some point to someone makes it a don’t-miss experience.
Shot in black and white by writer-director Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist is the story of silent screen star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), who finds himself in 1927 confronted by a new world in cinema — talkies.
Now, this movie features lots of music — including a controversial bit where some of Bernard Hermann’s score from Hitchcock’s Vertigo is included — and some snippets of dialogue, so it is not strictly “silent.” But it is wonderful.
When talkies come, George loses is footing and doesn’t know what to do. His wife (Penelope Ann Miller) is angered and perplexed at his intransigence in refusing to talk. The studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman) dumps him. His chauffer (James Cromwell) is the only person to stand beside him, as does George’s dog. It is starlet Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo, Hazanavicius’s real-life wife) who ultimately exercises the most influence on the actor and their story is lovely.
Now, it would be easy to write off The Artist as a gimmick but it’s not. It is a serious film, beautifully shot (by cinematographer Guillaume Schiffman), written, directed (by Hazanavicius), and acted. It’s not the first movie to chronicle the advent of talking pictures. There was Singin’ In The Rain and Sunset Boulevard. They are both wonderful, memorable movies. The Artist is, too.
I found it surprising that a pretty-much silent movie could be so moving and evoke so much emotion in the audience. It is clearly — with Hermann’s music, a scene that’s an homage to Citizen Kane — a tribute to the art of moviemaking. Everyone involved has to love movies.
The Artist is powerful filmmaking that ranks with Martin Scorsese’s Hugo as one of the two best movies of 2011. Both are very human stories set in the make-believe world of filmmaking. Coincidence?
The Artist is playing only at the Suncoast.
(2 votes, average: 4.50 out of 5)
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