Directed by:
Michel HazanaviciusScreenplay:
Michel HazanaviciusCinematography:
Guillaume SchiffmanComposer:
Ludovic BourceCast:
Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell, Penelope Ann Miller, Missi Pyle, Beth Grant, Ed Lauter, Elizabeth Tulloch, Ken Davitian (more)VOD (2)
Plots(1)
Hollywood 1927. George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a silent movie superstar. The advent of the talkies will sound the death knell for his career and see him fall into oblivion. For young extra Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), it seems the sky’s the limit major movie stardom awaits. The Artist tells the story of their interlinked destinies. (Entertainment in Video)
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Reviews (12)
I wasn't particularly impressed with the previous effort of the director and the two main actors, Agent 117, but I couldn't deny one thing - it really looked like something from the (roughly) 1960s. In The Artist, the filmmakers have managed to repeat this and to enhance it with a classic, but really nice story full of humor and nostalgia. The illusion that one is really watching a film from 192? is almost perfect (although anyone who has seen the Argentine The Aerial will probably not be impressed). The cinematography, the music, all the details, the central couple (Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford) acting and dancing like a dream, John Goodman, who I liked the most, James Cromwell... Everything's perfect. The Artist is an incredibly clever film. If I wanted to reproach it for anything, I would have to reproach all the old films it is dealing with... Which would be useless.
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The pure charm of film escapism. A film about a time when celluloid burned, which burns itself and yet miraculously does not burn itself with too much reverence and foresight into the past. The work with a soundtrack and a silent film is a famous directorial move, not only because it cleverly brings to the fore what would never have stood out in a spoken film, but also because it is almost ingenious in its simplicity. A silent film that did not elevate its silence to a dubious fetish (let's love how beautiful it was, we will not see that anymore today), but the most significant narrative component (the film is magical in itself, not because it reminds us of something). Hazanavicius did work that I applaud. If any critics wrote of The Descendants as a worked gem, they mistook the film. This is a feel good gem from which my jaw dropped.
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Playful and in love with film. If it hadn't forcefully slid into the existential realm and screamed so boldly about "silent" emotions in the last act, The Artist would have been the daredevil of the year and now rightfully collecting its laurels. As it is, I can't escape the feeling of a slightly desired gradation that works a bit less in this form than it could, but in the end, I still have to praise it. The main couple shines in every smile or dance, period films force me into nostalgia, and the retro soundtrack works so perfectly that I devoured the transformation into the twenties to the last frame. As a whole, however, due to the aforementioned, only 75%.
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Perhaps, with its trivial plot, it relies too much on the nostalgic mood of the target audience and on its own formal uniqueness in the flood of Hollywood mainstream, but The Artist is such a beautiful piece of filmmaking. It isn’t thought-provoking or groundbreaking, but wonderfully fresh, witty and authentic, nicely removed from the postmodern plagiarist guise. Emotionally mature, emotionally gripping. 80%
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I wasn’t particularly enthused about this. I suspected that the film would not be quite right and that's why I postponed watching it. Then, just to be sure, I watched it again. It's not an entirely bad film, and if it inspires even a fraction of viewers to discover real silent films, then it has served its purpose. On the other hand, the story is just a continuation of the bad aspects of Singin' in the Rain, and I have a huge problem with that. The heroes of yesteryear can be none other than the combination of Rudolph Valentine, Douglas Fairbanks, and John Gilbert. Fortunately, there's also the cheerful studio owner and anyone from those legendary head honchos to William Randolph Hearst (played by the excellent John Goodman). The film also features a cleverly trained dog, believable sets, gorgeous costumes, a near-perfect final dance number, and some hope for a better tomorrow. What is somewhat deceptive is the sound nightmare and especially the 1936 song used as background for 1931. Equally problematic and redundant is the conveyance of actual footage from The Mark of Zorro (1920). The question thus remains whether the story of silent film is really interesting just because that era is long gone.
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