THE ARTIST

Silent Cinema

Directed by Michel Hazanavicius
Starring Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo and John Goodman

Let’s get the plot out of the way: a leading man in the silent era of films deals with the advent of the dreaded ‘Talkies’. Love, chaos and action ensue. The Artist is the brainchild of French auteur Michael Hazanavicius who has not only made a film about the silent era in Hollywooodland, but has actually made, well, a silent film. Yes there’s music, but no dialogue.

At 100 minutes it would be fair to say even the most eager cinephile would be wary at the prospect of sitting through this, but in truth, this is a remarkable film told with incredible craft which hits some very powerful notes throughout. It is entertaining, engaging and at times downright mesmerising.
Among its many strengths, The Artist enjoys two captivating leads - Jean Dujardin, another Frenchman who plays the devilish swash buckling charmer to perfection and the Argentinian Bérénice Bejo who plays the female lead - cast into accidental stardom with the spunk of Rosalind Russel and the heart of Betty Davis. The world that is recreated in Los Angeles in the ’20s and ’30s will be very familiar for fans of early Cagney, Ed Robinson and of course the silent kings - Charlie Chaplain and Buster Keaton, as early film history is nodded to wonderfully throughout the picture.
It should be remembered just how hard a thing like this is to pull off. To captivate a 21st century audience with a black and white film without any dialogue, little sound effects and zero nudity is no easy feat. Apparently Woody Allen wanted to make a silent film when he was putting together his time traveller comedy Sleeper (1973) but the powers that be and perhaps Woody himself backed out of the idea once they realised how much work it was going to be.
The physical humour is quite exceptional in The Artist and is at times very subtle. A set piece where the female lead romantically involves herself with a tuxedo jacket is particularly well done, although it may have benefitted from including more of these vaudeville inspired slap stick routines that made the likes of Chaplain and Keaton’s movies so endearing.
There is the briefest lag midway where the momentum stalls ever so slightly but otherwise The Artist holds you tight. This film hopefully will do a few things for film makers around the world, who frankly should be ashamed of themselves for the laziness of their productions. The dialogue that’s packed into the overlong, fast talking, curse word induced finger paintings of pictures that passes for cinema today in the likes of the buddy/wedding/horrible bosses-esque genres could learn many many things from The Artist. Go see it, it will leave you speechless.

_ADAM MORRIS