When Silents were Golden: The Artist

It's a great idea and a great stunt, but in my view "The Artist" is no great movie. I think the challenge of trying to tell a story through the vehicle of a silent movie is worth taking on, but in some ways I think it would have been better had the story been anything but a story about a silent-movie star who's shoved to the margins by the arrival of sound in movies. Sure, it's a nice bit of Hollywood nostalgia, but ultimately The Artist not only looks old fashioned - shot in stunning b/w, in 4:3 screen dimensions - but it feels old-fashioned and, frankly, a little boring, at least in regard to the pretty limp plot. Yet it has some real moments and some real strength: not only the cinematography but the design (I loved seeing the old-fashioned credits at the top), great acting by Jean Dujardin and his co-star Berenice Bejo, with her huge eyes - amazing how they can convey so much in silence, without really over acting or vamping, as so many silent stars did. Among the really excellent scenes: the opening sequence in which we start out watching a silent action adventure, pan back and see the audience watching, then reverse perspective and see the actors behind the projection screen also watching; three or four takes as a director tries to get a dance scene right, but each take revealing more about the two lead characters and their chemistry, a dream sequence in which we hear actual sound, rather than soundtrack, for the first time in the film, Bejo dancing with Dujardin's sports jacket, Dujardin spilling whiskey on a zinc-top bar - and others. These great scenes stay in you mind, but great moments don't make a great film. In its essence, The Artist is pretty much the kind of campy melodrama typical of the silent era. Silents were golden, but I'll take the talkies.