The Artist (2011) PG-13 100 minutes
Comedy, Drama, Feel-good, French Movies, Funny, Imaginative, Original, Romance, Sentimental, Showbiz film, Silent Film, Smart, Witty
Director: Michel Hazanavicius
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Cast: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, James Cromwell, John Goodman, Penelope Ann Miller, Malcolm McDowell
A lot/Strong : Alcolol, Smoking
Some/Mild : Violence
No : Death, Gore, Language, Perversion, Sex/Nudity, Torture
Overall grade: "A-"
Directing: "A", Acting: "A", Visual Effects: "N/A"
Story Line: "A-", Concept: "A", Aftertaste: "A-"
Family Friendliness: "C-", Date Movie: "B-"
“The Artist” is one of those movies often misunderstood for different reasons by different groups of viewers.
One group that got “The Artist” wrong was those simple souls who honestly complained: “What? A silent movie about actors?? With a weird music and a silly story set in the ancient 1920s when people wore strange clothes and even did not have cool iPhones yet??? And just I missed my favorite TV show because of that so-called masterpiece????”
On the opposite side of the specter were those who ecstatically muttered something like “Wow! A silent movie about actors!! With a heavenly music and a charming story set in the Roaring Twenties when people wore beautiful dresses and those nasty iPhones were not yet invented!!! Oh, this is so much better than that primitive show that I quietly watch on TV every day in deep secret from all of my super-sophisticated esthetically advanced friends!!!!”
It took me a while to find a suiting metaphor for “The Artist”, but eventually I came up with the “antique furniture”. Many people enjoy antique furniture – wealthy collectors and curious museum exhibition attendees alike. Antique furniture is often a finest, elegant, unique work of an imaginative and resourceful artisan, a work full of style and harmony.
However, there is a clear distinction between a mere craftsman and a genuine artist, between the finest piece of antique furniture and a true masterpiece of art - a painting, a sculpture, a poem, a piece of music….
Back to those who misunderstood “The Artist” - the “antique furniture” metaphor turned out to be a helpful tool for better defining the two groups of viewers mentioned above. People in the first group were not even capable of noticing the tastefully refined, unique, and overall very impressive antique trinket. People in the second group did notice it, but mistook the exquisite, nicely made knick-knack for a piece of true art.
At the end, “The Artist” does for the slightly more sophisticated audience the very same thing that the endless cookie-cutter comedies and action movies mass-produced by Hollywood do for the slightly less sophisticated audience: it simply entertains, nothing more and nothing less.
Yes, “The Artist” admittedly entertains the target audience more elegantly, with impeccable style, in more refined and sophisticated ways than many other movies. It boasts strong, clever directing and exquisitely smart screenplay filled with sparkling humor ( Michel Hazanavicius), great acting ( Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, James Cromwell, John Goodman, Malcolm McDowell and others), and is quite distinguished in many other areas: from music (Ludovic Bource), to costumes (Mark Bridges), to art direction (Laurence Bennett, Robert Gould), to cinematography (Guillaume Schiffman).
Nevertheless, “The Artist” lacks something fundamentally important, something that made “SunsetBoulevard” (the famous 1950 movie with a similar premise - a former Hollywood silent movie star fading into obscurity) a masterpiece - the power, the depth, and that elusive magic of a true master work of art.
A great work of art mysteriously molds the content, the form, and the execution into an indescribable heavenly harmony beyond mere mortal’s comprehension. While the creators of the “The Artist” can be commended for the superior execution, both the form and the content of the movie demonstrate certain regrettable weaknesses.
Neither fish nor flesh, the film ends up as a funny sentimental fairy tale - not hilarious enough for a great comedy, not serious enough for a great tragedy, and not deep enough for a great drama. It is entertaining but unmoving, elegant and stylish but superficial.
I liked the “The Artist”, but I was far from falling in love with it. It was cute, unique, and charming but far from overpowering or irresistible.
Far better than your average Hollywood mass-production, “The Artist” can be a great entertainment for those able to appreciate the movie at its true value. It nevertheless lacks the important qualities that mark a true cinematic masterpiece.
