The Artist
Jean Dujardin, John Goodman, and Bérénice Bejoand star in a film written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius.
Part of what makes The Artist such a fascinating curio among this year’s top crop of films is the sense of what it proudly and assuredly is not. At a time when 3-D technology, cheap gizmos, and novelties and recycled yarns and sequels are being pumped out of the Hollywood machine, here we have a contemporary silent film (apart from select, key moments, which the critic’s creed prevents us from revealing).
In terms both vintage and post-Modern, French director Michel Hazanavicius’ compelling film pays deep respects to the history of cinema, especially that vulnerable moment when the silent format morphed into the “talkies,” while telling an engaging story. Enhanced greatly by the involving and emotionally-encoded orchestral score by Ludovic Bource, and hyper-sensitive cinematography by Guillaume Schiffman, The Artist is certainly one of the more visually-powered films in theaters of late.
In the lead role, rightfully lauded actor Jean Dujardin loops around between natural expressiveness and a mannered hamminess in his performance as a self-absorbed and dashing silent era star, George Valentin, poised for a fall between the “talkies” and the big crash. By way of dismissing the star from the studio roster, the director (played by John Goodman) tells our protagonist, “The world is talking now.” Representing the new, sound-fortified world is fast-rising star Penny Miller (Bérénice Bejo), who maintains a quasi-romantic and compassionate connection to the veteran star.
