Monday's Movie Review: The Artist (No Spoilers)

It's a rare thing to see something different in film these days. It feels as though all avenues have been explored. So instead of trying, and failing, to come up with something completely different, sometimes a good idea is to go back and revive something old to make it new again, because retro is always in. And thus The Artist, a black & white silent film, was released in a world that is comfortably reliant on sound.

The Artist follows two actors, one a veteran of the silent film industry, the other a fresh face that easily transitions into the world of talkies. As the song says the times are a changin' and soon George (Jean Dujardin), the silent film star, is no longer the A-list actor he once was. Instead everyone wants to see and hear spunky Peppy (Bérénice Bejo), with whom George became smitten during her days as an extra on one of his films.

Technically speaking, the film is magnificent. There are certain shots and scenes that took my breath away. If anything from Hollywood needs reviving, it'd be a more consistent use of black & white film. And despite recent controversy, the score is the infectious glue that holds it all together. The most shocking though is the use of sound. It truly amazed me how much I was captivated by the sound effects, not realizing the impact they have until used (very minimally) in the context of a silent film. Sound is clearly something we've taken for granted all these years, and The Artist's ability bring that theme to the foreground is cleverly stunning.

However, when it comes to the story and characters, everything else is quite surface level. The story is far from original and the characters, in true silent film fashion, wear their expressions loud and proud all over their beautiful faces, leaving little room for any mystery or depth. So much of a performance is lost without dialogue and tone as clues to what the character is thinking and feeling. The Artist left no question about what was going to happen next, and though desperate times called for desperate measures in George's life, there was never a sense of tension, leaving me feeling very little for these people. It's not that I didn't want George and Pippy to be happy, but when they weren't, I wasn't sad about it and I found myself challenged with being emotionally invested in anything beyond the technical aspects.

Perhaps I'm being unfair in judging The Artist against a set criteria for modern films. However, since it will be pitted against many other films that fit that criteria, it would be unfair not to, otherwise, the film falls prey to being a gimmick with its on set of rules. The Artist does rise above that, but instead of being a great film, like so many say, I found it to be just good film blessed with great technical elements.

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