The Artist

Perhaps, with its trivial plot, it relies too much on the nostalgic mood of the target audience and on its own formal uniqueness in the flood of Hollywood mainstream, but The Artist is such a beautiful piece of filmmaking. It isn’t thought-provoking or groundbreaking, but wonderfully fresh, witty and authentic, nicely removed from the postmodern plagiarist guise. Emotionally mature, emotionally gripping. 80% (11/11/2015)

Playful and in love with film. If it hadn't forcefully slid into the existential realm and screamed so boldly about "silent" emotions in the last act, The Artist would have been the daredevil of the year and now rightfully collecting its laurels. As it is, I can't escape the feeling of a slightly desired gradation that works a bit less in this form than it could, but in the end, I still have to praise it. The main couple shines in every smile or dance, period films force me into nostalgia, and the retro soundtrack works so perfectly that I devoured the transformation into the twenties to the last frame. As a whole, however, due to the aforementioned, only 75%. (27/01/2012)

Those who know my ratings a little will be well aware that I am not a fan of silent movies. My relationship with them is similar as with pizza Margherita: I have nothing personal against it, but without at least ham, it doesn’t quite make it. And that’s the reason why I wasn’t that excited about this movie; at worst, I expected an unlikeable romantic and artsy Oscar bait, and at best, a bearable and sincere but rather boring movie. I was wrong, The Artist couldn’t have been a more pleasant surprise. It’s a very entertaining, nice and charming movie that doesn’t need sound. But when it does use some sound, it’s worth it (e.g. the nightmare). It left me with a feeling that none of this year’s other Oscar contenders did: having watched a truly exceptional movie. So I’m really rooting for it, and I’m saying this as someone who normally appreciates movies that are more progressive in their contents or format over “retro” ones (like The Social Network over The King’s Speech last year). 9/10 (21/01/2012)

Incredibly sweet, playful, a delight for the eye, the ear and the spirit of all old people, among whom I also count myself. The dance number at the end was so terribly cute that I was grinning from ear to ear. And if I were a woman, I'd kill for Jean Dujardin's irresistible smile. Since I'm a man, at least my platonic love for Berenice Bejo will have to suffice :o) (02/04/2012)

The Artist is certainly not nearly as bad as my single star would suggest, but it is also not nearly as good as the enthusiastic comments and five-star ratings from others would imply. I will completely leave aside the fact that it has numerous Oscar nominations and a real chance of winning overall because the bestowal of Oscars has never represented and does not represent a stamp of quality in the history of cinema. The Oscars simply represent the calculation of the film academy, which succumbs to certain trends, moods, and clever advertising by distributors, just like the audience itself. I will say it like this: The Artist is a typical midcult, as defined by Umberto Eco in his book of essays dedicated to culture. This means a skillfully made film that pretends to be avant-garde and cleverly plays with the snobbery of those film viewers who scorn ordinary consumer production and present themselves as admirers of artful productions. It is a film that does not burden the brain, does not hide within itself any ideas or artistic risk, and relies on the certainties and professionalism of filmmaking. Of course, it is not original either; this has been seen several times before, and I would say in a less pleasing but more emotionally convincing execution. The Artist is unlucky because I saw it in a movie theater that I rarely visit and I am overly picky. If I saw it on TV, I would have turned it off after 20 minutes and not reviewed it. Under these circumstances, it made me furious, especially since I had company with me and couldn't leave the movie theater. For me, this film is simply too pleasing and superficial; emotionally, I completely missed the point and I could engage with its game. It reminds me of the huge soap bubbles that my children created at the water park. They look impressive, but they burst immediately and nothing remains of them. In two years, when the current Oscar fascination fades away and the effect of the smart marketing campaign of the production company wears off, I don't think anyone will even mention The Artist. But there are a few positives. Bérénice Bejo is truly lovely, and the stylization of the late 1920s, although it has little in common with the reality of the events in film production at that time, has its charm. Also, if it were edited into a stylish 30-minute slapstick, it would evoke completely different feelings in me. Overall impression: 25%. (25/02/2012)