Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo star in "The Artist," 2011, The Weinstein Company
When I first saw “The Artist,” I couldn’t quite make out whether this film was a gimmicky effort made to appeal to a niche segment of cinephiles or a finely crafted homage to the silent era.
Directed by the relatively unknown Michel Hazanavicius, “Artist” (2011) has garnered glowing critical review including three Oscar nominations for Hazanavicius: best director, best original screenplay and best editing.
Despite that, “Artist” is still not in the same league as its cinematic ancestors: “The Passion of Joan of Arc” (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1928), “The Battleship Potemkin” (Sergei M. Eisenstein, 1925), “Greed” (Erich von Stroheim, 1924), “The General” (Buster Keaton, 1926) and “Metropolis” (Fritz Lang, 1927) are just a handful of films from that era that should, at the very least, receive a special screening by the academy prior to handing out any statuette for “Artist.”
But with its legions of gushing critical followers, that seems unlikely to happen.
In any event, “Artist” opens with a screening of George Valentin’s (Jean Dujardin) latest silent picture “The Russian Affair” during which aside from him being tortured by a Frankenstein-like electrical device, not much else happens.
But after the screening, a starstruck fan, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), accidently inserts herself into media frenzy outside the theater and is photographed planting one on Valentin’s face.
When his wife Doris (Penelope Ann Miller) sees the photo on the front page of Variety the next day, she is none too amused by both Valentin and his kooky Jack Russell Terrier, Uggie, who is trained to mimic Valentin’s pantomime.
The Weinstein Company, La Petite Reine, Studio 37
Meanwhile, Peppy Miller is ecstatic at having been photographed by Variety and decides to go on an audition at Kinograph Studios.
While waiting for her audition, she shows a butler (a bored Malcolm McDowell) the magazine cover and is dejected when he still doesn’t recognize her.
After earning a role and receiving a nod of approval from the casting director, Peppy celebrates with a Tiger Woods-like fist pump.
She then turns to a still seated McDowell and says “My name is Peppy Miller” to which McDowell wryly smiles and shrugs it off.
- The Weinstein Company, La Petite Reine, Studio 37
Valentin later suggests Peppy paint a fake mole above her upper lip to attract more attention and miraculously she starts commanding better roles.
As time rolls on to 1929, sound technology comes into being and Valentin’s relationship with Doris
becomes more mundane and strained.
On top of that, Studio head Zimmer (John Goodman) screens one of the first rushes employing sound and Valentin laughs it off as a joke.
“If that’s the future, you can have it,” he sniffs (perhaps echoing the same criticism Walt Disney received when he first proposed producing animated feature-length films).
Not surprisingly, Valentin inexplicably wakes up to an entire world using the new technology of sound only he is unable to speak, still silent and still holding on the a bygone era.
It turns out to be a Buñuelian dream from which Valentin awakens sweating and clearly disturbed― so much so that the normally outgoing actor becomes introspective on the ride to the studio at which he discovers that most of the silent actors and stage hands are gone.
Kinograph Studios has decided to halt production of silent films in favor of talkies.
“You and I belong to another era, George. The world is talking now,” Zimmerman tells a stunned Valentin.
In a matter of hours, Valentin discovers that he has gone from yesterdays box office idol to today’s washed up actor―it wasn’t possible back then to hang on for dear life by coining boorish phrases like “winning.”
Meanwhile though, Peppy Miller is winning having signed a deal with the newly reinvented Kinograph Studios.
She still believes in Valentin and eventually helps resurrect his career but only after Valentin makes one more desperate attempt at producing and acting in his own silent film which fails miserably.
- The Weinstein Company
“Artist” is an entertaining, well made and aptly researched and edited piece but the effusion of positive critique of it as something new rather than novel is puzzling and makes one wonder whether or not some critics are really familiar with the silent film canon.
Still, in addition to the categories for which it is nominated, “Artist” should probably also be nominated for best costume design, best cinematography and music score.
Everything is period correct even down to interior light switches and poster fonts.
Under ideal circumstances, there should probably be more of a push to restore original silent films and screen them at modern theaters but as they say, “every dog has its day” and if there were such a thing as an Oscar for dogs, Uggie would certainly earn my vote.―Steve Santiago
4th Dimension Films 