The Artist
It is hard to approach the film as it is. When I saw that it was running at the Philadelphia Film Festival last year, I really wanted to see it and thought it was one of those curious underdog films, a piece of nostalgic candy I can indulge in. Sadly I was too busy to go to any of the films then. Now it’s still a piece of candy, but all of a sudden, everybody and their mother, including Mr. von Bothmer, has to say something about it. Most people probably haven’t even seen any silent films besides, say, Charlie Chaplin sketches. It’s so damn hard to escape these voices. In a year in which the Oscar people considered “War Horse” for a best picture Oscar, I am even more doubtful whether this Oscar business is a good thing for any film.
As a film, “The Artist” is quite great. The story is a little thin, just like “Hugo” was a little thin, but its execution and the likable plot make up for it. Concerning the content, everything in the film has been done (the theme of artist who is too old and/or unable to get into the new way of movies is as old as Hollywood itself and spruced some masterpieces like “Singin’ in the Rain” and “All about Eve”), instead it is rather the production details and the way it is shot that makes it special. I think it would have been amusing if they made this movie 20 years later, when the time they want to imitate is exactly 100 years ago, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. Silent movies were old 20 years ago too.
Don’t get me wrong, “The Artist” was immensely enjoyable and strangely enough, it’s a feel-good movie. It’s also interesting to see how silent films are viewed with the eyes of today. Unlike “Larry Crowne”, “The Artist” is a good film in every aspect, but the film is a little bit overrated and I would only see it again if I hang out with somebody really wishes to watch it. Instead, I’d rather watch another actual silent movie.