97% The Artist

I'm stunned by how adeptly this film meshed its style and its content, as either could have easily felt contrived, overly nostalgic, and just plain cheesy had it lacked such grace and boldness. Not only do we get a tribute to the silent film's golden age, complete with its orchestral brilliance and visual camera tricks and gags, but we're completely transfixed by its simple, crystal clear storytelling and gripping emotional journey. The film asks us to do what most modern films take for granted -- make that leap into its world, granted by a suspension of disbelief -- but not just because we aren't used to seeing this kind of film anymore; we're transported due to the powerful visual vocabulary on display, one which pings both halves of our brains as we're forced to work a little harder to make logical sense of what's occurring, all the while having beautiful, tension filled frames poetically entrance our emotional selves. Yes, what I'm describing can (and perhaps should) occur with any film, but only having gone back to the very basics, when films were undiluted by the ease of natural dialogue, can we receive the full artistic impact of this visual medium. And how timely such a film feels even today, as one generation finds itself in constant struggle with the ever-evolving technology of social media and handheld instant communication; how often have we fretted over the surely-hidden meanings behind our own personal "title cards" sent by our friends right into our pockets via text message? If The Artist has a couple weaknesses, they fall in the latter half of the film as we see George Valentin (Jean Dujardin's performance is stellar) dealing with a very complex battle between guilt and pride, particularly as they relate to the talkie star he helped create, Peppy Miller (the perfectly cast Berenice Bejo). At times his descent towards eventual madness felt a little redundant, although a split sequence involving the world's most gut-wrenching onomatopoeic title card builds incredible tension leading up to the film's resolution. The solution offered (I'll try to avoid a spoiler), however, feels somewhat like a cop-out, and I would've rather seen George forced to make an active choice about his future rather than introduce a deus ex machina that falls rather flat. That said, this bittersweet tribute to the grandeur of film is a must watch for everyone who still sits in awe, butterflies in their bellies, every time those lights dim and that feature presentation title card glows on the big screen.

December 29, 2011

Source: http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/the_artist/

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