The Artist

I managed to catch a screening of this at Cannes, and if you're thinking about skipping this film because it's silent and black and white, you're going to be missing out on a very special experience.

Everything about this film is exceptional. The acting is top-notch, the story is intriguing, and despite being black and white, the film is visually appealing. The filmmakers really make great use of the medium, and even though there are no voices or color, my interest was never lost.

Jean Dujardin gives a great performance. You like him instantly and, without giving too much away, you want him to succeed. This movie is really chock full of great actors and actresses. You'll see some familiar faces, but they all blend in well with the world of the film.

I really don't know a whole lot about the director Michel Hazanavicius, but after seeing this film I'm definitely interested in seeing what he does next.

Highly recommend!

I go to a lot of screenings and it is rare that once the credits roll I feel satisfied. One or more of the elements of most films just don't work together to create a feeling that you have been thoroughly entertained.

I am happy to say that this film DELIVERS! The acting is superb, the chemistry between all of the actors is sizzling, the comedy is absolutely hilarious, the storyline grips you and never lets go, the music is superb, and you feel emotionally connected with the characters and story.

If you check my previous reviews, you will see that I am most often moved to write a review when a film was really bad, but this film caught me completely off guard and I just had to express my overwhelming satisfaction with this filmmaking experience.

I can't imagine how difficult it must have been to try and finance a period film with two stars who were not well known outside of their own country. I am just overjoyed that it all came together. This is how film should make you feel when you leave the theater - entertained! To the entire production team - BRAVO!!

«We didn't need dialogs, we had faces» said the narcissistic Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) in Billy Wilder' "Sunset Boulevard", referring to the Silent Era, when she used to be big … before the 'pictures got small'.

The reason of this introduction is that after watching Michel Hazanavicius' critically acclaimed: "The Artist", I strongly felt this was the perfect illustration to Norma Desmond's iconic eulogy. From beginning to end, my eyes never ceased to be amazed by the communicative smile of Jean Dujardin as George Valentin, the aging silent movie star and the sparkling eyes of Berenice Bejo as Peppy Miller, the young and flamboyant starlet. Their faces occupy the screen with such an electrifying magnetism that they don't just steal the scenes, they steal the dialogs … literally.

I was awestruck by Dujardin's performance. To those who didn't grew up with French TV programs, he's one of the most popular and talented comedians of his generation. Dujardin created the character of Brice de Nice, a blonde surfer whose specialty was to 'diss people', but it was so funny it never sounded mean-spirited. He was a member of a cult comic-troop (who made sketches à la SNL) but even back then, he had a little something that made him special: a voice, a smile, a charisma in both TV and movies, in both dramatic and comedic register. There was no doubt in France that the guy who was famous for his impressions of Robert De Niro and the camel (and even De Niro doing the camel) was promised to a brilliant career.

Look closely at Jean Dujardin's face, it's like drawn with 'classic' features: the finely traced mustache who builds a Fairbanks-like charisma like the strength from Samson's hair, the dazzling smile making him look like the lost son of Gene Kelly, and a certain macho toughness reminding of a young Sean Connery. Dujardin's face is a gift from cinematic Gods, and "The Artist" finally lets it glide, earning him the Cannes Festival Award for Best Actor. I sincerely believe he deserves an Oscar nomination, because he just doesn't play an actor from the Silent Era, he embodies the Era with the same level of demented craziness as Norma Desmond, in a brighter and more light-hearted side.

Valentin's self-absorption echoes Desmond's cynical ego while his gaudy 'Don Lockwood' mask (Gene Kelly in "Singin' in the Rain") hides the more poignant face of his insecurity. He's the star of the screen because only the screen allows him to express his unique talent. While Lockwood had to adapt to the 'talking' revolution, George Valentin makes a conservative U Turn starting an inexorable descent into madness, from an outcast, to a has-been until being finally alienated by his own talkie-phobia. The direction is so clever that it challenges many times our perceptions, creating unexpected feelings of discomfort when real sounds are heard. But I was surprised to see how much it worked on a dramatic level.

And this is the strength of the film, although I expect it to discomfort some viewers: it isn't a tribute in the literary meaning of the word. It has its moments where it tricks us into the use of sounds or dialogs, but never fails to distract us from the core of the story: the romance. Very quickly, we forget about spotting the hints, the references to silent classics: chase scenes, over-the-top comical gesticulations, slapstick jokes etc. This mindset would disappoint those who expected a film with the same material as Mel Brook's "Silent Movie", which was clearly a tribute. "The Artist" IS a silent movie, featuring a beautiful romance between George and Peppy, who got her break with an idea from George, something that would make her different from the other actresses: a beauty spot above the upper lip. A clever credit-billing montage depicts her consequent ascension to stardom until she finally dethrones George and makes a has-been out of him.

If I mentioned the performance of Dujardin, Berenice Bejo also deserves some accolades because she succeeded in looking so "old" from our POV yet so fresh and modern in the film, with the appealing feel-good and optimistic attitude she constantly brings on screen. With her doll-face and youngish smile, she's like a cute little girl enjoying what she does. In a way, Peppy Miller embodies the film's most inspirational element: a positive message about passion and enjoyment. And this indirectly highlights George's source of troubles: being deprived from what he enjoyed the most and suffering from his progressive fading into oblivion. Along with this conflict, the evolution of George and Peppy's romance never feels forced, quite an accomplishment when we consider how slightly over-the-top silent movie stars used to act.

Both Dujardin and Bejo are indeed powerful in an Oscar-worthy level and at that moment, I can't continue without mentioning the third character of the film, George's dog. The relationship between George and the dog provides a sort of Chaplinesque feel to the movie, a mix of tenderness and poignancy, so natural and convincing I wonder if the Academy will think of a honorary Oscar. Anyway, I applaud Hazanivicius for not having reduced "The Artist" to a flashy spectacle with no substance, with the word 'homage' as the director's convenient alibi, and make a touching romance about two people who met each other at a pivotal time in the history of film-making, each representing a side of cinema, the old-school silent generation: Chaplin, Keaton, Pickford and the exuberant talkers: Grant, Hepburn, Davis … And I'm glad he found the true note to reconcile between these two universes at the end … didn't I tell you Dujardin was the lost son of Gene Kelly?

"The Artist" plays like a missing link between "Singin' in the Rain" and "Sunset Boulevard" and it's indeed one of the best films of 2011, with the absence of words as an endearing 'beauty spot'.

The Artist arrived at the Toronto International Film Festival preceded by the accolades it received at Cannes, so expectations were high, but those expectations have been more than amply fulfilled. This film is an absolute marvel - charming, witty, surprising, moving, clever and beautiful. Filmmaking is about decisions, thousands and thousands of them, and everyone involved in The Artist makes every decision to perfection. The cinematography is ravishing in luminous black and white. The musical score, on which the film, being silent, is so dependant, is subtle when it needs to be subtle, dramatic when the occasion calls for it, and never overbearing or overwrought. The screenplay (yes, silent films do have screenplays) toys with the conventions of the silent era, paying homage to some of the greatest films of the first two or three decades of cinema history. The acting is flawless, extracting emotion and humour from a simple but classic storyline. The direction displays such self-assurance, and treats the audience with such respect, that it is almost like having a dialogue with the director.

The Artist is one of the most enjoyable movie experiences I have ever had. It deserves a wide audience and all sorts of awards. I can hardly wait to see it again.

And oh yes, if there is ever an Oscar for best animal performance, the dog in The Artist should receive a lifetime achievement award for this role alone.

The Artist is a well-made if not particularly involving homage to the silent films of the 1920s. The film itself looks beautiful, and makes interesting use of its lack of sound. However, the story lacks interest, and is as clichéd as the silent films it pays tribute to.

The artist of the title is George Valentin, a silent film star caught in a loveless marriage to a petulant starlet. He gives a jump start to the career of actress Peppy Miller after kissing her at a premiere. However, he soon finds his stardom dwarfed by hers after the debut of talkies and losing his fortune in the stock market collapse.

The film is at its best when it plays with the whole concept of silent movies. The most impressive example is a dream sequence conveying the transition from silent to sound movies. Valentin dreams that his word, previously filled with a silent movie soundtrack, now consumed by overly loud background sounds. This may be the first time in cinematic history in which a dog's bark has conveyed the shift of an entire world.

Unfortunately, the film also suffers from one of the major flaws of silent films in general. Because of the lack of dialogue, The Artist ultimately has a simplistic story with largely one dimensional characters. To a large extent, the plot mimics that of A Star Is Born, focusing on a famous performer ultimately surpassed by his protégé. As a result, the film is boring and predictable.

Furthermore, the film emulates the least interesting of the silent movies. Rather than focusing on the more experimental films that characterized the early years of silent movies, such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and D. W. Griffith's work, it looks at the making of genre films. Given that The Artist, by its very nature, is aimed at film buffs with an extensive set of references, one would think they would give attention to more interesting films.

Still, the film's cast does a lot, particularly given the lack of dialogue. Penelope Ann Miller gives Valentin's harpy wife as much dimension as one can to such a one note character. John Goodman is also good as a dictatorial producer.