The Artist - Yeah, It's Really Called That

If I told you that a recently-produced silent, black & white movie was totally amazing, you’d probably politely nod and smile before walking away. If I stopped you and said you’d really be missing out if you blow it off, you’d think “That’s one of those boring movies no one enjoys but film snobs have to say they love it in order to maintain street cred.” I’m pretty sure that’s what you’d think because that’s what I thought. There’s been a lot of buzz around The Artist since it was a major contender for the Palme d’Or at this year’s Cannes Film Festival and the pretty, pretty Jean Dujardin won Best Actor there. A big part of me was very skeptical about a modern, nearly-silent movie. Especially one with a title so pretentious as The Artist. But I’m glad I didn’t let that part win.

The Artist is an incredible cinematic achievement for our time. It does the heavy lifting of actually relying on pictures to tell a captivating, sweetly moving story. The story is that of George Valentin and the end of his career as a silent film star when “talkies” gain traction in the film industry. Valentin is the Clooney of his time, but instead of avoiding the spotlight, he obnoxiously revels in it. Even his wife finds him intolerably arrogant. As he falls from grace as a celebrity, the only people who continue to care for him are his loyal chauffeur Clifton and Peppy Miller, a young film star with whom he once shared an intimate moment and gave valuable career advice. Together, they save him from disaster and even help him make the major transition he’s long needed.

During the opening sequence of the movie, we’re seeing George Valentin watch his latest hit film from behind the screen with the director and the rest of the cast. The audience is filled with people dressed in tuxedos and ball gowns. They’re not just watching the movie, they’re experiencing it. They’re active participants if in no other way than in their imaginations. The filmmakers are on the edges of their seats as they wait for the audience's reaction. For the most part, movies are nothing like that today. They appeal to the lowest common denominator. They fill in all the blanks and require no contribution from the viewer. They’ve so excluded the audience that if we do watch movies,  we’d rather do so at home in our pajamas.

A few weeks ago, I tweeted Claire Suddath of Time Magazine to ask why she rarely goes to the movies anymore.  She said, “I just never seem to get around to it. Also, I'm cheap.” I had no response. Who can argue with that? What if she did make an effort to go to the movies and pay twenty dollars to get in? What would she get in return?  What would it take for a movie today to inspire an audience to dress in their finest and anticipate a fulfilling group experience? Until we as entertainers can answer that question, the domestic box office will continue to struggle and decline.

I think if you asked any of today’s iconic filmmakers, they’d say their entire lives are spent telling stories with pictures. But after seeing this movie, I’m not so sure that’s true. Admittedly, for the first several minutes of this movie, I was frustrated with it. The music was too much. The slick look of today’s images felt like it was in sharp juxtaposition with the silent style. And sometimes it would drive me crazy to see an actor’s lips moving but have no idea what he or she was saying. But about a third of the way into the movie, the actor sets a whisky glass down on a table and it makes the appropriate sound. It’s funny, but very startling. It was in that moment that I realized how much of a crutch sound, and especially dialogue, has become. After that, I was just along for the ride and it was a great ride! In fact, some of the times they used title cards, I wished they hadn’t.

The Artist isn’t just a movie. It’s a gauntlet being firmly thrown down. A challenge to filmmakers everywhere to stop relying on technology and return to the basics of the craft. Even as I proclaim that writer/director Michel Hazanavicius has created something monumental, I remain aware that if this were the 1920’s, he’d have only done the same thing as every other talented filmmaker. And that’s where the real wake-up call lies. The awards buzz around this picture is indeed well-deserved. But we also need to ask ourselves an honest question. Is it that The Artist is exceptionally brilliant or simply that today’s movies are just too lazy?