The Artist (2012)

They say silence is golden, well it certainly is in The Artist, a brilliant homage to 20’s and 30’s Hollywood cinema that’s so ripe with invention it goes way beyond what some people consider to be ‘Old School’.

When The Artist premiered at last years Cannes film festival, Harvey Weinstein snapped up the United States rights and a handful of critics pronounced it Oscar worthy on the spot. At the time, that sounded far fetched, and maybe still is now. But save your judgement until after you’ve seen the movie, a project so idiosyncratic, so unlikely, so simultaneously innocent and sophisticated that it could only have been devised by the French. Furthermore, The Artist is also an insane amount of fun, which is not a concept most people would associate with French film (think Mesrine Part 1 & 2). But it’s that factor that may have put its handsome leading man, Jean Dujardin, in the race for the top awards this winter.

Jean Dujardin is totally luminescent in the role, echoing stars like Rudolph Valentino and Errol Flynn in his mannerisms yet with an uncanny resemblance to Gene Kelly. Unless you’re a fan of the alternative cinema that is French comedy, you’ve never heard of Dujardin of director Michel Hazanavicius. But the qualities that would seem to make their movie totally unmarketable are also its strengths, The Artist is in Black-and-white. It’s not merely a silent film, but one that both imitates and spoofs the silent age dramas of the late 1920’s, movies that hardly any living people today have sat through. That’s at least three strikes against the film, (Mark Wahlberg’s latest film Contraband has taken more $ in one day, then The Artist did in one week), but ever since that Cannes premiere, audiences at festivals have been lapping it up. Not everyone will like it that much, that’s a given, but if you do, it’s the kind of movie you tell your friends about, and drag them to the cinema.

Dujardin plays George Valentin, who is byword for vanity at first, as the star attends the premiere of his latest romantic adventure and makes another performance out of soaking up the applause. He has legions of fans, including Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) who breaks through the cordon and manages to get her picture taken with him.

She’s just the sort of sassy female you’d expect to see in a musical comedy of the era and Bejo adds a girlish twinkle that sets her apart in her first dance audition for Valentin’s next movie. Both Bejo and Durjadin rehearsed their dance scenes in Debbie Reynolds and Gene Kelly's dance studio. It’s only a walk on role, but in a wonderfully funny turn by Dujardin, it’s Valentin who keeps spoiling the takes. Very obviously, Peppy has turned his head.

Certainly director and his leading man have lots of fun with their affections for silent cinema, but the gags are crafted with such a loving eye for detail that you never once think they’re trying to make a mockery the genre. Even the slapstick moments are graced with a higher with and cleverly work to reveal things that are left unspoken.

Hazanavicius has created something truly great and unforgettable. Gorgeously shot by cinematographer Guillaume Schiffman and with a great score by Ludovic Bource, The Artist has everything we go to the cinemas for, to laugh, cry and get lost. How can this not fail to win big at the Oscars?