The Artist, in Review

Reviewing this movie is really, really hard. The fact that it has already been in theatres for the filmic equivalent of a lifetime means that I can’t even focus on the movie itself. It has now won probably every award, and I can’t say a thing about it without having that thought crouching in the back of my head. I have been obsessively wondering why I would not give it an award. I worry my reasons for that are tied up with the fact that it already has won so many awards, so I think you should all know that my opinions on this film are terribly spoiled and polluted, and that you shouldn’t trust any of them. Not that all the other reviewers’ aren’t, mind you, but you should appreciate my honesty.

So, The Artist, directed and written by Michael Hazanavicius and starring Jean Dujardin as George Valentin, and Bérénice Bejo as Peppy Miller. It’s a silent film, but no, that does not mean there’s no sound at all and yes, instead of people talking you just see their mouths move before they’re interrupted by a title card. It’s just occurring to me now that the majority of this film’s audience have never sat through an entire silent film in a cinema. I like silent films, but I’ve seen them before, so I suppose I wasn’t all like, “But they’re not talking, how am I understanding what’s happening? Which genius of the cinematic arts is responsible for this feat? I have the sudden urge to give him several golden statues!”

Let me be clear though, I liked this film. Really! Would I personally give it five Oscars? Probably not. Is the fact that they did give it five Oscars dredging up some deep-seated reserves of snark? Probably.

Allow me to be nice for a second and tell you why I think this film is worth seeing:
1. There is an adorable dog in it that does tricks. He’s in almost every scene. He was a hot contender for ‘Best Actor’ at the Academy awards.
2. Jean Dujardin is amazing. Despite any problems I have with the character he plays, I’ve got to hand it to him, he blows it out of the water.
3. There is tap dancing. I had assumed tap dancing was a lost art, like balladry or talking to girls.

All right, now that I’ve got that out of the way, here’s the fun stuff. While watching this movie I had the distinct feeling I’d seen it before. Then I realised I had, because it’s just Singin’ in the Rain with less colours and no Cosmo. Also, I can’t read lips, and the use of title cards is sporadic at best, so imagine my frustration when what seemed like a crucial scene was completely indecipherable because there wasn’t a title card in sight. This wasn’t even a scene where you could piece things together from the action, it involved a montage of people’s mouths in close-up all repeating the same word I couldn’t understand….I have nightmares like that. Maybe that one was just me, but I’ve never had this problem with any other silent film. There are also a few weird, jagged edges to the plot. For example, despite being what appears to be the friendliest and most affable guy on the earth, George Valentin is a total douchebag to his wife in the entire film for literally NO REASON besides the fact that it’s convenient for the plot. She is such a transparent way to allow George to meet the heroine and love interest, while plausibly keeping him from hooking up with her until the end, that it gives me cramps.

It’s a predictable, overworn story, and while I can appreciate that it’s a love letter to older forms of cinema, that doesn’t mean it has to be a love letter written in crayon. That said, it has its charms, and I liked the ending (that may be due to the tap dancing though). I didn’t want to ask for my money back or anything. Did you know if you go ask sometimes they give it back? It happened to me once. I guess the moral of the story is go and see this movie because it has won so many awards, and then ask for your money back if you really don’t like it.