I will not talk

Rating: 8/10 (19 January 2012)

A movie star finds his life falling apart when a technological innovation, 'The Talkies', arrives, and the old is swept out to make way for the new. However, salvation is potentially there, in the form of a young star who feels she owes a debt (and feels so much more), if only the star of the silent screen could let go of his pride...
You don't have to look far for films that document the cataclysmic effects of the arrival of sound to silent film - Sunset Boulevard, and Signing in the Rain, to name two genre-opposed examples. Stripping a film of dialogue is also not that rare - consider Daratt. And utilizing the retro feel of black-and-white in the modern age is passé since Ed Wood and Schindler's List. What is rare, possibly unique, is the combination of these elements to create a film that taps into the current desire for nostalgia and feel-good cinema.
Jean Dujardin shines as George Valentin, giving a masterful pastiche of the eyebrow-dominant mode of acting of 1920s screen heart-throbs. His charismatic performance most skillfully evokes the period. Bérénice Bejo as the aptly named Peppy Miller poses, grins, winks and melts hearts while holding the pain of an unrequited love for the unwitting George. The directing perfectly complements the theme - George encounters Peppy first on equal footing, later when he is in his ascendancy, and then a bit later on stairs, framed in starkly geometrical terms, with a chastened George making his way down, and an effervescent Peppy going all the way up. They talk, with her occupying the elevated position.
"I will not talk!" proclaims the opening title card, and the narrative never lets up in its exploration of this essential thematic strand. George won't/can't talk to his wife, Peppy and George never talk about their attraction, George refuses to talk on screen, his closest companion is a gesture-reliant dog...
I have seen this in the cinema on three occasions and each time the audience have applauded at the end. Whether this is a reflection of the quality of the film, and/or the desperate need in our times for nostalgia and uplifting cinema, I do not know. There is something about this film that touches people. A homage to cinema, and an unashamed crowd-pleaser (perhaps the only thing that gives away the fact that the film is French), The Artist is quite simply a triumph. I am not sure if it will last the test of time, but harrumphing about it now would be churlish. Well-crafted, great fun, worthy of the tears you will undoubtedly shed, I recommend it unreservedly.