Remember the Time

It seems incredible, but once upon a time, back when Hollywood was still known as Hollywooland, filmmakers really didn’t need that much to make a film, and by that I mean they didn’t need color or sound – black and white and silence did just fine.

French director Michel Hazanavicius seemed to think so when he wrote then directed the era-capturing The Artist.

Hazanavicius’ most excellent love letter to the early days of cinema stars the phenomenal Jean Dujardin, a French actor who picked up the Best Actor prize at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year for his enchanting turn as matinee idol George Valentin.

Together, the two – along with the winningly winky Bérénice Bejo and a strong supporting cast that includes John Goodman, Babe’s James Cromwell, and Penelope Ann Miller – deliver proof that, as it turns out, folks still don’t need color or sound, or grandiose effects or gimmicks like 3-D, to dazzle audiences because a good story full of emotion always triumphs.

The Artist’s captivating story begins in 1927, with Dujardin’s George Valentin the toast of Tinseltown. He and his trusty sidekick, played by a scene-stealing Jack Russell, have built themselves into revered legend, and Valentin is the biggest star in town.

Two years later, though, everything changes.

The market crash of ’29 depletes George’s finances (the unhappy wife Miller plays finally walks out on him shortly thereafter, leaving with Cromwell’s chauffeur character as the only human who still stands by him), but, more life-alteringly, the advent of talkies and younger talent threatens to cast him aside.

Leading the crop of new faces championed by Goodman’s studio head character is Peppy Miller (Bejo), a spunky ingénue George met many moons ago and with whom he immediately sparked.

They still remember – and like! – each other, but their rapport now is a bit more tried, since, you know, she is essentially helping put him out of business. He is the past and she is the future. The big question, of course, is could they have a present together.

The smart beauty of The Artist lies in how all this...drama in George’s life unfolds so ingeniously on screen, how, through the sheer power of conveying it all through sight gags and dance and cleverly used songs a filmmaker can say so little and evoke so much at the same time.

That’s what makes this one so memorable and such a pleasure.

My Rating ****

Photo: The Weinstein Company.