Films > DVD Reviews
The Artist
03/05/12
If you haven’t already seen this film I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you have a very good reason. I mean, you know it’s really good, right? You know it absolutely smashed every awards shindig it attended, right? You know it was adored by critics and fans alike, right? So, if I find out that you haven’t seen it because you don’t like the idea of a silent, black-and-white film I am going to be SO pissed with you.
You see, there’s a very good reason for the universal acclaim: It’s brilliant - effortlessly evoking the golden age of cinema while drawing us into a fresh and unique movie-going experience without feeling gimmicky or laboured. We soon forget that the characters aren’t “talking”. The Oscar-winning score envelops us and we see the film with keener eyes, picking up on nuances and details on the screen with enhanced awareness. It’s irresistible.
Our scrutiny is indulged by multi-award-winning cinematography, art-direction and performances. Jean Dujardin now has more leading-role statuettes than most A-listers will see in their careers, and the supporting triumvirate of John Goodman, James Cromwell and Malcolm McDowell are perfect. The real revelation, though, is love-interest Berenice Bejo. She owns every frame she is in, fizzing with kooky charm and beauty like a young Hepburn.
Yeah, but what’s it about? Well, it’s about a man struggling to find his place amidst radical technological progress; it’s about love in a time of immense change; it’s about an hour and a half; it’s about the most uplifting and rewarding piece of cinema I’ve seen in years.
The overwhelmingly positive response to The Artist may well indicate a creeping dissatisfaction with modern cinema’s increasing reliance upon technological gimmickry. Or not. Don’t ask me, how am I supposed to know? Undeniably though, here a film stripped of colour and sound reminds us that it is great storytelling that distinguishes a work. That hasn’t changed since the 20’s, nor will it ever. Cinema, Ladies and Gentlemen, is alive and well.
Jay Freeman