A film that unites critics; but I suspect divides cinema-goers. I find myself with a foot in both camps. The Artist is almost entirely silent throughout its 100 minutes running time. Cleverly and I think effectively, Hazanavicius has created an impressive blend of form and content: telling his Singin’ in The Rainy story obversely through the superseded silent medium rather than its loud, upstart successor. If Singin’ In The Rain exploits the humour and musical possibilities that sound provided; The Artist is an homage to what was lost; its tone nostalgic about the reliance on expression and physicality the necessities of silent cinema imposed upon directors and artists alike.

It will be tedious to link all parallels with Singin’ in The Rain throughout this piece so I will leave you dear reader to note many of them in passing. George Valentin is a Silent Movie star oozing charm and vanity in equal measure. Hogging the limelight and the public adoration, he has a totally chance meeting with Peppy Miller - besotted fan and wannabe star. The press pick up the ‘star-meets-unknown-pretty-girl’ and Peppy is ‘discovered’. Both good tap-dancers this shared skill is what connects the two.

With the advent of sound Valentin’s latest movie bombs and gradually Peppy’s flapper-fun dancing and voice make her the golden girl of the new craze for sound. True to his vision, Hazanavicius brilliantly conveys this transition while remaining within the silent film format. This gives The Artist a totally different tone to Singin’ in the Rain. The silent movie genre of Chaplin and Keaton is perfect to convey the pathos and sadness of Valentin’s decline and fall onto hard times and Peppy’s concern and desire to help him without offending his pride.

If Singin’ celebrated the brash, noisy fun of the future, The Artist offers a quiet lament to the loss of the old; a paean to the past. Most critics express a deep, often purist reverence for the films of the Silent Movie era which perhaps explains the almost universal praise they have heaped on The Artist. That’s my problem: I can see that there is much to admire in some silent classics but if one looks at popular cinema and the stars who created the cinema-going habit, they mostly leave me cold. Sacrilege I know: but I very rarely find Chaplin funny and even the sublime dead-pannery of Keaton diminishes with repetition. I also find Chaplin’s little tramp far too sentimentally cloyingly cutesy and coy; much preferring Keaton’s bemused, perplexed, astonished stoicism before the onslaught of disaster the world throws at him.

Interestingly modern technology offers Hazanavicius a visual quality denied the directors of the Silent era. This frees his actors from the theatrical, exaggerated physical acting imposed by the limitations of the early technology. Performances in The Artist benefit therefore from a subtlety and reticence that adds depth and a degree of ‘innerness’ to the jerky gesturing of yesteryear. The cinematically critical close-up works better and differently in The Artist than its rare use in the old silent era.

There is no denying that The Artist has style, panache and elegance; it pace and editing is beautifully and seamless supported throughout by Ludovic Bource’s original soundtrack; as vital here as the musical accompaniment was to the original silent movies. It has an endearing innocence and charm to carry most people through the challenging absence of words and sound effects. The film also builds to a vivacious climax that is full of sheer exuberance and joie de vivre.

Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo carry the lead roles lightly, ably supported by the occasional familiar face like John Goodman, Macolm McDowell and James Cromwell. It is also a labour of love; for its general critical success could not have been predicted, so in a play-safe repetitive industry, the sheer innovation and artistic courage to challenge the general public with something truly different and requiring some effort – must be recognised and honoured.

I think most people will enjoy The Artist; many will absolutely adore it. I’m in the first category because I have never bought in to the purist philosophy that sees imagery as the ‘essence’ of cinema and the use of words and dialogue as an unfortunate compromise.

For me the Silent movie era with one or two notable exceptions is to Modern cinema what mime was to the Theatre. Interesting – but limited. And in the immortal words of Sam Malone in response to Diane Chambers’ Arty claim that “everyone loves a Mime” – “no: everyone hates a Mime” (Cheers).

This one offers an interesting struggle – Box Office vs Critical Acclaim. It will be interesting to see how that pans out.

I'm in the first category too, Zettel. I am also a huge fan of "Singing In The Rain" which I can never pass over if ever I see it on the TV when I'm channel hopping! I must say I laughed and cried in equal measure at this film - it had bags of heart. And the ending was brilliant! And the dog! Even for me, a non-doggy person.

I agree too. I found it clever and touching but it didn't stay with me for long afterwards.

We saw it on Sunday, and I'm pretty much with you, Z. I enjoyed it, and there were a few moments possessing a truly sublime emotional content that I don't think would be possible with sound. However, I'm not sure that justifies the film. I found myself wondering, overall, what the point was. As you mention, Singing in the Rain was pretty much the same story and, for me, done a lot better; so why do it again with less tools at your disposal?

The three main problems for me were:

George never makes a self-generated effort to get out of his gloom. Peppy does everything for him; even making the suggestion that finally allows his return to fame.

Peppy being in love with him is not convincing (see above). It's not clear, actually, if she's in love with him or simply pitying him. If it is love, it's not believable. Okay, he did her a couple of favours but for most of the film they don't actually interact, thereby they don't build a convincing love-base. In Singing in the Rain, Kelly and Reynolds are with each other pretty much all the way through, so you believe their hate/hate(love/love) turning gradually into love/love.

The lack of spoken dialogue means the characters never really rise above stereotypes, well acted though they are. I know this seems an obvious criticism but it does raise the question of why cut sound if you haven't got an equivalent character-deepening mode to use instead. John Goodman's character is a case in point: nothing there but a kind of J Jonah Jameson black and white rage/glee based on whether or not he's going to make any money, made palatable only by the fact the actor has such a great range of facial expressions.

I read a few reviews on Rotten Tomatoes, and it's interesting that a lot of the comments made under the few negative reviews (even though they were mostly like yours, i.e. raising doubts but not trashing the movie) were very vitriolic and insulting towards the reviewer. Which is maybe another example of how some films engender a kind of quasi-religious support in people, that brooks no doubts of any kind whatsoever.

Terry

I adored the film, and it has stayed with me, emotionally and visually.

I'm interested that people are questioning the theme of love in the film, as that is not what I took to be the central story of the film. It was about loyalty to me. Everyone demonstrated loyalty or disloyalty, from the graffiti-ing wife, to the every-present chauffeur, from Valentin's misplaced loyalty to the silent format that made his name, to Peppy's loving loyalty to the man who'd once been her idol and became the man who made her dreams possible. And notably, of course, the life-saving terrier.

Valentin doesn't help himself, true: but he helps Peppy when he didn't have to. She returns the favour. That's a subtler story, to my mind.

I could watch it again right now.

I see what you're saying, and you may be right. But if so, it still doesn't provide Valentin with much credit. In essence, he was disloyal to his wife as much as she to him. I'm not sure he showed loyalty to Peppy, just a spontaneous gesture or two that didn't really cost him anything at the time. He wasn't loyal to his chauffeur, just accepted the chauffeur's loyalty to him until he finally set him free. In other words, I can't see Valentin showed any loyalty to anyone (only to his own image/career/ego), just accepted it from others. In which case, he still fails as a central character, for me at least. It also brings into question the others' loyalty to him: why, and to what?

Terry

Dear Zettel,

Thanks for Posting. I've a request please write a review about the 'Final destination 5', and I think this movie is complete Bullshit.

Interesting comments all. I can see why you loved the film Cherys but it just didn't touch me as much.

I think Haz (I just can't keep typing it in full) would have been pushing his luck to have centred the film on love and relationships, even loyalty, because of the limitations the silent genre imposes on 'innerness'. He needs the pace a rattle-along story-line gives him in order to sustain our interest while we are coming to terms with the experience of a largely dialogue-free and soundless movie.

This is one of the central reasons why I think sound deepens the possibilities of movie art; for it is precisely that much increased range of communciation tools that gives access to the inner life and emotional complexity of characters.

Silent movies are irreducibly physical: that is the nature of the form. It is an interesting but unanswerable question whether if you were able to show The Artist to audiences of the Silent Movie era whether they would quite understand it. They might find it tediously understated. It is a fact of time and necessity that The Artist is a silent film made for audiences with highly developed understanding of the richness of possibilities in 'reading' images.

In the end I think if The Artist is about anything specific it is a film about film. That it is so unpretentiously accessible and enjoyable is to the credit of Haz and co. I agree with Blob though - few images resonated enough to stay with me - perhaps the lovely scene where Peppy dances behind the screen and we just see her legs and feet - Valentin resonds to that part of Peppy with which he has most in common - the joy of dancing.

Not entirely sure Mox which film you thought was bullshit - The Artist or Final destination. Anyway Horror is the only genre I don't 'do'. I find horrific Thrillers interesting enough: but Final looks more like thrilling horror which doesn't interest me much.

I mean Final destination 5, if you've no interest, doesn't matter.

Valentin is loyal to his wife. He stays with her and provides for her when she quite clearly despises him. He is loyal to the art form which built up his career, beggaring himself to keep it going as newer forms take over. He frees his chauffeur so that he can find a new job when he realises the man will never leave him. I didn't find him a weak character. Complex, not a 2-D square-jawed hero, but multi-faceted: remarkably so for the genre.

I don't disagree. I certainly didn't say or think he was weak.

Z

Hi,

Sorry Zettel, that was more a conversation with Terry! And I realised I was a bit shorthand anyway - as I was about to rush out to teach. My point was that it's interesting (maybe in part due to lack of words) that we could interpret his character so differently. That it wasn't as set as words would make it.

That may be one of the sources of the the Great Garbo mythology. Spanning the silent/sound era her mystique may well have been generated in her early silent movies where as you say things are left more open to interpretation, and then perpetuated when as the headlines had it 'Garbo Talks'. I guess for every Valentin loser there was a Garbo winner.

regards

Z

I didn't say he was weak either; just not loyal. I don't accept that his obsession with preserving his career is loyalty. That's more to do with ego, maybe mixed in with a genuine love for the medium. I'm not sure it's a strength of the film that V's character can be interpreted so differently. I'd say it's more to do with the writer/director not being very clear about it in the first place. This may be to do with something Z referred to, about how silent movies are by their nature physical, i.e. plots need to be pretty broad-brush. Therefore, the plot here requires V to go from High to Low back to High, and any emotional involvement on the way is always liable to be somewhat sketchy. If, for example, he'd shown some loyalty to Peppy earlier on, it would have weakened his steady fall. The only way to justify him falling more would be to introduce envy from him to Peppy, mixed in with love (as in A Star is Born), but such a scenario would already be stretching the silent medium perhaps; or maybe this director just couldn't reach to it.

Terry

... and the big question is now - how many Oscars will it get? Are you going to make predictions for the Oscars, Zettel?