The Island Cinephile

The Artist: An Ode to Old Hollywood

Directed by Michel Hazanavicius

“I’m the one people come to see. They never needed to hear me.“

George Valentin

The Artist is a French film that became the receptor of major critical acclaim and accolades upon its release in 2011. It was filmed in black and white with mostly silence and minuscule moments with speech. Under the direction of Michel Hazanavicius and with cinematography by Guillaume Schiffman, the film is shot beautifully. It details the transition from the black-and-white silent films of Hollywood to “Talkies” between the years 1927 to 1932. At the foreground of this historical backdrop, the relationship between an aspiring young Hollywood actress and an older, silent film star is pantomimed. The premise follows an elementary story of an actor George Valentin – a Hollywood star of the silent-film era – whose life is upturned when he meets Peppy Miller who is the representation of new Hollywood. She is symbolic of a new era of emerging cinema that Valentin had been blindsided by, the era of talking films. Their relationship dynamics change greatly after this shift.

There are a few scenes in the film that seem to pay homage to Singin’ in the Rain (1952) and inevitably takes a darker turn than the MGM classic. The choice to utilize silence to represent this time was truly an artistic decision, but not one that I appreciated upon watching. Although it gave the actors an opportunity to shine using their acting chops, it felt drawn out. As George Valentin, Jean Djuardin is a charming leading man despite his lack of speech, and he is able to carry the audience along with him. Berenice Bejo as Peppy Miller proved to be a great support to Djuardin. Their relationship seemed to mirror the transition between silent films and talkies. With a lack of dialogue, there’s not much for the audience to rely on besides direction and visual, so luckily the film holds up well visually. The score composed by Ludovic Bource transports you to old Hollywood instantly with orchestral compositions and a bit of jazz tunes. Most notably, I discovered upon research that the films climatic scene is set to Bernard Hermann’s “Scene D’amour” from Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo. This is obviously a nod to old Hollywood.

I understand the critical acclaim and outpouring of admiration for this film, but perhaps my lack of knowledge of this pertinent transition in Hollywood disqualifies me from catching most of the references throughout. To an average viewer, the premise of the film feels fresh as it uncovers the scope of something new but likely becomes boring as most fail to understand the foreknowledge of why these things are important. Unfortunately, even the critical acclaim for the film escapes me as it had wonderful performances but felt less than remarkable, almost forgettable. The Artist comes across as a film for advanced cinephiles – unlikely for regular movie goers that prefer a more fast-paced, dialogue heavy, or action-packed film.

Watch trailer for The Artist.