365 Films in 2012

56. The Artist (dir. Michel Hazanavicius, France/USA, 2011)

A narcissist loses everything.

This was perhaps not the best time to see The Artist, the surprise Cannes-hit-turned-mainstream-success after being picked up by The Weinstein Company. Last night it won 3 major awards at the Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director. It’s the first silent film to win Best Picture since the very first Academy Awards. So is it as good as its reputation? Well, it isn’t. Or at least, it was about as good as I was expecting it to be. Charming, certainly, and often enjoyable. But to be honest, I was bored by a lot of it, and very nearly fell asleep at one point. On more than one occasion, the film sabotages its emotional impact in favour of (often not very funny) jokes.

The reason silent films fell so quickly out of fashion was not just because sound was new but because it was better. With spoken dialogue, there is so much more room suddenly for thematic depth, multiple plot lines, real characterisation, more jokes… The Artist doesn’t do much, frankly. What it does, it does pretty well. But it doesn’t do much.

So I liked it about as much as I expected.

But I wanted to love it.

Verdict: novelty kicks - basically an Easter egg. Sweet, but hollow.