The Artist

A question I thought watching this movie might answer, has still not been answered: why is the film silent? The story is about a silent cinema actor, but that doesn’t logically mean the film itself has to be in black and white, and silent. Perhaps the intent was to put us into the world in which they existed and thought, but - eighty years later - this can only be done with an obvious, artificial pretence. You have to buy into the concept, without question, or this film won’t work for you. Jean Dujardin is brilliant, but you could call him one dimensional, and he essentially repeats his performance from OSS 117. He’s a modern silent cinema actor himself, and as such we don’t believe the more serious concerns that afflict him later on. When we focus on the story itself, we find little that really surprises or excites us – much of it has been done before: think of Tim Burton’s Ed Wood, and of course Sunset Boulevard (or even Citizen Kane to a certain extent). The novelty is in the silence (and perhaps the cute dog), but it would be unfair to say that without it the film would be nothing special. There is a great charm to this movie – something quite direct and unpretentious. The dream sequence is frightening (I initially thought it wasn’t a dream, and the movie would continue along those lines), but it brings me to my final point of irritation with the film: the ending. There can’t have been many people who were surprised or shocked at what happens, but why does it happen? Like the dream, it breaks the fourth wall (the rules we have tacitly accepted for the length of the film), and for no real reason. As I said, you have to buy into the concept of this film wholeheartedly for it to work for you. I was unable to do this.