The Artist (2011): the beginning of an era.

I love the simplicity of early cinema and how it gives you a glimpse of history in glorious 4:3.  In the Lumière Brothers and Georges Méliès films circa 1895, you see people who existed more than a century ago moving about before your very eyes.  The celluloid is scratched and flickers erratically between the black and white images of ghost-like figures as they go about their daily business or present a fantastical play.  Early narrative cinema of the 1910s and 20s has a simple modesty as filmmakers experimented to create storytelling conventions in the medium of cinema – many of which are still used today.  Any cinephile has a romantic attachment to the silent era, because that’s where it all came from.  There’s no wonder why director Michel Hazanavicius chose to create homage to cinema in his 2011 monochrome silent The Artist.  As he says in January’s Sight & Sound: “The real star of the story is Hollywood.”

The film is set in 1920s Hollywood at the peak of the silent era.  It follows the decline of a star and the birth of another as the young studio system copes with the advent of sound on film.  The transition from ‘movies’ to ‘talkies’ meant silent star George Valentin is left in the dust as the young, vibrant Peppy Miller makes herself heard in the world of showbiz.

Sound is obviously one of the most important aspects of The Artist.  This isn’t strictly a silent film, but a tribute to silent films.  The soundtrack includes expressive music to simulate the musicians which would accompany a film in 1920’s theatre houses.  Hazanavicius plays with the audience in the opening scene however, by blurring the lines between diegetic and non-diegetic sound.  He further plays with the idea much later in the film with a dream-sequence in which Valentin can suddenly hear crystal clear diegetic sound, yet his voice remains mute.  These little gags are weaved into the film’s subject matter and give the whole thing a great sense of cohesion – a telling sign of a fully conceived film.

The audience, I think, is also crucial to this film’s delivery.  The film is very aware of the audience and always cuts to shots of audiences as if to emphasize this.  Hazanavicius is always very aware of what the audience knows and doesn’t know.  The director realises that modern audiences may well know a lot about silent era cinema.  The film is packed with references to classics like Citizen Kane and 7^th Heaven; filmmakers like German expressionist F.W Murnau and Hollywood classic Frank Borzage; and stars like Janet Gaynor and Douglas Fairbanks.  The Artist is also heavy with classical cinematic conventions, for instance the simple use of rain as an expression of sadness.  These conventions used as heavily today would seem ridiculous and clichéd, but within the context of the silent-era style, modern audiences are filled with a sense of fond reminiscence.

The Artist is not trying to be an authentic silent film, but instead wishes to present a novel but respectful nod to the silent era of Classical Hollywood. It is full of references and reads like Hazanavicius' love letter to an era of filmmaking which he - and we - are indebted to. In a time when films like Avatar are attempting to revolutionise cinema by making IMAX 3D the next coming of sound, I'm surprised The Artist was even made. But I'm glad it was. To me it serves as a much-needed look back at the essential beginnings of the art form. Already receiving considerable popular success, The Artist could herald the beginning of an era when mainstream filmmakers and audiences alike become more aware and influenced by the origins of cinema. Apart from all that, The Artist also stands alone as an altogether sad, funny, compelling and entertaining film.