TheArtist

Words by

Avalon Lyndon

Michel Hazanavicius’ The Artist poses a question no one has recently thought to ask: what chance could a silent film have with modern-day audiences? And the answer has come loud and clear. A massive hit at Cannes and the London Film Festival, The Artist has finally found its way to British screens and will undoubtedly be a massive contender in any critics’ top films of 2011. This film is one of a kind: a high-concept, high-energy gamble that completely pays off. I guarantee that you’ll leave the cinema with a massive smile on your face, itching to try out a few tap moves of your own. Amongst the glittering lights of 1927 Hollywood, silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) shines brighter than all the rest. Enter Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), a young, beautiful, wannabe-actress who literally falls ontothe red carpet at the premiere of George’s latest film. Light bulbs flash and her face is plastered all over the morningpapers. But while Peppy’s rise to fame has only just begin, George’s own career has hit an unexpected bump in the road. The ‘talkies’ have arrived and the public can’t wait to finally hear their silent stars speak. But when George fails to rise to the challenge, he finds himself unceremoniously kicked to the Hollywood curb. Can Peppy – now the cinematic sweetheart of her generation – pick up the pieces and get George back on track?

For fans of Singin’ in the Rain (1952), this story might ring more than a few bells. It’s true that the films are cut from the same cloth. Both, after all, show the threat the ‘talkies’ posed for the actors and filmmakersof the silent era. But that’s pretty much where the comparisons end. The Artist is the ultimate one-off. While Hazanavicius has his roots in out-and-out pastiche, with the brilliant OSS 117 films taking the Michel (sorry) out of Euro-centric Seventies spy movies, The Artist is far from a spoof. But it also isn’t the earnest “homage to silent cinema” that the critics are clamoring to paint it as. Refusing to pander to the sacred cows of the silent era, The Artist takes the features that characterised these films - their exaggeratefacial expressions and emphasis on visual gags - and throws some modern elements into the mix. In the same way that director Gary Ross toyed with introducing colour to black-and-white in the into-the-screen nostalgia trip

“100 minutes of

pure, relentless cinematic

joy”

that was Pleasantville (1998), Hazanavicius lets the modern creep into the traditional to create something completely unique. While The Artist’s handful of sound gags will definitely get a good reception, the film’s stand-out moments are purely visual. One great little scene has Peppy snaking her arm through a mannequin’s dinner jacket, in a moment a little bit reminiscent of that playground game where you turn your back and pretend to be kissing someone. Perhaps best of all is the breakfast table scene

Bejo is great as the wide-eyed spunky ingénue grabbing Hollywood by the metaphorical horns, and John Goodman, as always, makes for a perfect cigar-chomping machoman. But anyone who has either seen the film, or even glanced in the direction of a review,will know that it’s Uggie the dog who categorically steals the show. I never thought I’d have a tear in my eye watching a little dog scampering full-pelt down a street. In one of the film’s most poignant scenes, George puts himself in danger to save a battered old film reel from destruction. That moment sums it all up for me. This is, after all, a project which takes a risk to save something worth keeping. The Artist couldeven hail a renaissance for the classics of silent cinema, long forgotten amongst all the boom-crash-bombast of today’s multiplex blockbusters. Clocking in at 100 minutes of pure, relentless cinematic joy, this is a film you’ll want to see over and over again. But, as I discovered, you might want to leave the tap dancing to the professionals.

with George and his great little canine sidekick, Uggie. When all it takes is a dollop of coffee froth on the end of George’s nose to get me cracking up, you know you’re onto a winner. The concept behind the film is so strong that the cast could easily have found themselves swallowed up in it. But the performances are spot-on across the board. Jean Dujardin manages to be smug, self-satisfied and undeniably charming all at the same time - and his knife-edge raised eye-brow absolutely owns those dance retake scenes. Bérénice