“And
your life, all its light attachments loosened,
rose above everything, as far as the space
opened,
filling the world's rapidly cooling emptiness.”
- Rainer Maria Rilke
French director Michel Hazanavicius' surprise
hit The Artist is a charming recreation of the
silent film era of the late 1920s that focuses
on how the advent of talking pictures spelled
the end of careers for those silent film stars
who could not or would not make the transition.
Shot in color, then transferred to black and
white, the film's combination of form and style
captures a time of simplicity in which movies
reflected creativity and imagination as much as
their ability to make money. The film introduces
the wonderful French actor Jean Dujardin to
Western audiences and he is irresistible with
his broad smile, thin mustache, and snappy dance
steps that suggest Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire.
The artist in question is George Valentin
(Dujardin), a silent screen star who downplays
the advent of talkies to his gruff producer Al
Zimmer (John Goodman), calling it a passing
phase. George still has thousands of loyal fans
who swarm around him at every opportunity and
lives a life of comfort with a huge house in
Hollywood, a lovely wife, and a loyal dog. All
of these comforts are threatened, however, when
George meets Peppy Miller
(Bérénice Bejo), a dark-haired
beauty who is a talented dancer and actress with
potential star power.
Valentin begins a flirtation with her and, much
to the chagrin of George's wife Doris (Penelope
Anne Miller), they are photographed together in
Variety magazine, an incident that reminds Doris
of how unhappy she is with George and eventually
leads to the breakup of their marriage. George
is called yesterday's man by his producer and,
as Peppy starts to climb the ladder to success,
George's star recedes, but he does not give up
easily. Refusing to participate in talking
films, he leaves Zimmer and sets up his own
company to produce a silent adventure film but
it bombs at the box office while people line up
to see Peppy in her debut films.
As a result of George's reluctance to act in
talkies and the stock market crash of 1929, he
loses his loyal driver Clifton (James Cromwell)
and falls into bankruptcy and flirts with
alcoholism. One member of the family always by
George's side, however, is his loyal dog, a
loving companion whose swift-footed action saves
his life when he is trapped inside a burning
house. Peppy remains his friend and looks after
George when he is injured in the fire and brings
him to her house to convalesce. Though she
admittedly used him to get her break in the
industry, Peppy sincerely wants to have George
get back into acting and offers him a script
reluctantly approved by Zimmer, but he demurs.
Before despair takes further hold, however, the
film takes you where you would least expect to
go and surprise follows surprise. An homage to
the comedies and musicals of the silent era, The
Artist is a film that bursts with enthusiasm and
life. Though it may be lightweight (some have
even called it ”fluff”), it can nonetheless
break new ground if it can serve as a reminder,
not only of what we have lost in our films with
their increasing subservience to technology and
corporate greed but, more importantly, of what
has gone missing from the quality of our lives.
