revue de l'artiste

The Artist - 2012, dir. Michel Hazanavicius

I wasn't sure what to expect from this film -- I vaguely knew that it might be a silent film, I'd seen an intriguing trailer for it, but basically thought that any film released in 2012 in black and white and possibly silent must be worth a watch, if only to see if they could pull it off.

Put simply, they did.

It's set in the late 1920s, and the main character is an old-school melodrama film star called George Valentin, who is basking in the heyday of his fame and success. Not giving anything away, time passes and the film industry progresses to the stage of pioneering the first 'talkie' films -- something Valentin thinks will never catch on.

The film as a whole -- while having plenty of genuinely funny moments -- is actually a lot more melancholy than I imagined. It's directed and shot beautifully, and I was surprised at just how little I missed any speech (there were some dialogue subtitles, but mainly you were left to work it out for yourself). It's to the credit of the actors that you just didn't really feel that you needed any dialogue.

I suppose it was out of such necessity that melodrama was born, but for The Artist to be able to distinguish between the over-acting of the movie-within-the-movie and the film itself is impressive. The film itself is subject to the same constraints as the silent films of the twenties, but I wasn't left with the feeling that any of it was unnecessarily over-acted.

I enjoyed the elements of the film that mirror characteristics of the original silents (like the characterisation of the little jack russell side-kick), and in a sense I think those sometimes blurred boundaries were reflected in George Valentin's life -- he expected the same reaction from people in real-life as those in his movies, and was eventually left behind in a world that made him increasingly irrelevant.

Overall, I was left with the urge to watch some of the old originals (my knowledge of them is lacking to say the least), after being given a new appreciation of their artistry.

And that, I suppose, was the point.