The black and white, silent film, The Artist, renews the purity of the silent age of Hollywood during the 1920s in a stylish and romantic way. Each scene in this film was full of subtle passion and had a precise way of sticking with the beloved movie themes that were present in old Hollywood. Although the film was not completely silent throughout, I felt transported back into when the narrative took place: 1927. And when a movie can do that for me, I am instantly hooked. In fact, I was hooked not even ten minutes in.
Everything about The Artist, to put it simply, was art: the humor was light and classic, as was the refined comedy back in the day; and the love story is simple, yet full of undeniable ardor. The chemistry between the two main characters was the most realistic I have seen in a while. And though it was a love that grew from attraction at first sight, the affection and sense of protection they felt for one another was what made their love seem so real. Even though I never heard them say one word about their feelings, both characters looked at each other in a way that reassured me that no words were needed.
The story seems simple on paper: George Valentin, played by Jean Dujardin, a silent movie star tries to avoid fading into the background as silent films begin to be replaced with the arrival of "talkies." He helps a dancer, Peppy Miller, played by Berenice Bejo, become a star. The twist: she hits the big time when she becomes an established star of talking films. What starts out as a flirtation turns into an impossible love once Peppy's face takes over Hollywood and George's begins to be forgotten. Over the course of a few years, the story follows both characters separately. George begins to go into a downward spiral as Peppy does the opposite. Although the two are rarely together throughout the film, Peppy cannot seem to forget how she was nothing before she met George. She also cannot forget how she felt when they were together. For a movie with no sex scenes, not even a kiss, The Artist was elegantly sexy.
Jean Dujardin was handsome, dazzling, and endearing as George Valentin. I was instantly attracted to his quirks, such as his cartoon-like moustache and his friendship with his dog sidekick that went everywhere George went. Dujardin remained mysterious and sexy while, at the same time, gave off a likeable air with his willingness to meet and smile at everyone he passed. He was the epitome of a silent movie star with his charm and alertness.
Berenice Bejo was breathtaking as Peppy Miller. The second she met George outside one of his movie premieres, all eyes went to her: the characters in The Artist and the viewers of my movie theater. It was easy to see how she accomplished becoming a movie star from starting as an extra in one of George's films. What made Peppy so likeable was that her infatuation for George started just like any of his other fans. But what made her different was that she felt the need to protect him and his movie career when everybody else in the world began to forget about him. So even as the entire world falls in love with Peppy Miller, she is still, in fact, in love with George.
Every scene of The Artist was perfect. The French director, Michel Hazanavicius, made the movie shine for any type of audience. There is a scene between Peppy and George within the first half hour of the movie that made every person in my theater go wonderfully silent. It was unbelievably romantic, and it marked the beginning of two people falling in love. The sequence was short, yet captivating, and I had not even realized I was smiling the entire time until the scene changed.
After seeing The Artist, it became clear to me: silence is an art, not an inconvenience. This movie celebrated seeing and made the ability to watch and comprehend a movie an extravaganza. The film being silent automatically put us on George's side. Words came up on the screen to provide us with dialogue. It is not until the end of the movie when we are able to hear voices. It is then, and only then, that we realize George is finally content with how things are. And that makes it okay for us as well.
What a pleasure it was to see this film! I loved every minute of it, and I am pleasantly surprised to say that I do not have one complaint against it. The Artist celebrates silence, which is what would be considered outdated in today's Hollywood, but the elegance, the romance, and the theme of this film is what makes it so modern.
