Product Details

• Actors: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo
• Directors: Michel Hazanavicius
• Format: NTSC
• Region: Region 1 (U.S. and Canada only. Read more about DVD formats.)
  
• Studio: The Weinstein Company
• Run Time: 100 minutes
• Average Customer Review: 4.4 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (51 customer reviews)
• ASIN: B0059XTUMC
• For more information about "The Artist" visit the Internet Movie Database (IMDb)

Editorial Reviews

Amazon.com

The Artist is a love letter and homage to classic black-and-white silent films. The film is enormously likable and is anchored by a charming performance from Jean Dujardin, as silent movie star George Valentin. In late-1920s Hollywood, as Valentin wonders if the arrival of talking pictures will cause him to fade into oblivion, he makes an intense connection with Peppy Miller, a young dancer set for a big break. As one career declines, another flourishes, and by channeling elements of A Star Is Born and Singing in the Rain, The Artist tells the engaging story with humor, melodrama, romance, and--most importantly--silence. As wonderful as the performances by Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo (Miller) are, the real star of The Artist is cinematographer Guillaume Schiffman. Visually, the film is stunning. Crisp and beautifully contrasted, each frame is so wonderfully constructed that this sweet and unique little movie is transformed from entertaining fluff to a profound cinematic achievement. --Kira Canny

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

69 of 73 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Magnificent...just magnificent, November 14, 2011

By 

C. Sawin (TX) - See all my reviews
(VINE VOICE)    (REAL NAME)   

This review is from: The Artist (DVD)

The Artist had quite the reputation going for it before it debuted at the Cinema Arts Festival in Houston, Texas. Early reviews were already very positive and many Houston critics were talking about how much they were anticipating getting the chance to see it. I purposely went in blind and only found out just moments before I entered the theater that it was a silent film and was not only shot in but would be presented in the now practically ancient 1.33:1 aspect ratio. A black and white silent feature film made in modern times; what's not to like about that? Truth be told, nothing can really prepare you for how extraordinary The Artist really is.

George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is the king of silent movies in Hollywood in 1927. Audiences just adore everything George is a part of. Along comes Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) who you just know is going to be a huge star some day. George and Peppy work together on one film as George not only takes her under his wing, but an undeniable spark develops between the two. Over the course of the next few years, silent movies fade into obscurity as talking pictures or "talkies" explode onto the scene. George finds himself struggling for not only work, but a purpose to live as Peppy becomes the next big thing overnight.

The Artist is funny and charming right out the gate. Jean Dujardin really plays to the crowd and appears to love nothing more than catering to the people who come to see his films. George's dog Jack might be the biggest form of comic relief in the film. The way he plays dead and covers his head with his paws are always both presented in a way that is fresh and laugh out loud funny each and every time they're utilized. Once Bérénice Bejo enters the picture, the film begins to evolve into a type of romance. It's odd though because to my recollection George and Peppy never kiss. Peppy seems to steal the spotlight in the same way George does as soon as you see her dance for the first time. The laughs are there, the charms are there, The Artist has a firm grip on your heart and your attention and never really lets go.

The film eventually begins to get a bit darker though as silent movies wither away and talking pictures take their spot. George's downward spiral is really fantastic to watch. It's mostly due to not only Dujardin's superb performance, but also the way many of these scenes are filmed. There's a scene where George is sitting down at a mirror table drinking whiskey. You see nothing but George, his reflection, and the alcohol. He pours the booze on the tabletop as the look of disgust becomes more chiseled on his brow. That scene is so beyond amazing. The brilliant music used in the film also just captures the time period perfectly. There's also this dream that George has right before he's let go from his contract where he can't speak, but everything around him has sound. That sequence is really spectacular, as well.

The Artist can get a little dark at times, but for the most part is extremely lighthearted and feel-good at its core. Never have I wanted a movie to end on a happy note so badly in my life. Through the highs and the lows of George Valentin and the depressing outcome of his career along with the heartwarming sensation you get from nearly everything in between, the entire experience just feels so real; so genuine. The Artist is just pure perfection, a masterpiece, and an instant classic.

20 of 22 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A highly enjoyable homage to an era and a style, January 3, 2012

By 

Whitt Patrick Pond "Whitt" (Cambridge, MA United States) - See all my reviews
(TOP 1000 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)   

This review is from: The Artist (DVD)

French director Michel Hazanavicius' The Artist is a delight to experience, a highly enjoyable and superbly crafted homage to an era and a style: the silent movies. While one can definitely appreciate it more if one has some familiarity with the silent movie era, it is not a necessity. The Artist will give anyone who's never seen a silent movie the experience of what seeing one was like and how different silent movies were stylistically to the 'talking' films which have been the norm for the last eighty years. And why people loved them as much as they did.

The Artist is set in Hollywood - the heart of the film industry - in the critical period between 1927, when silent movies were at their peak, and 1932, by which time they had become a thing of the past, completely displaced by 'talkies'. The film begins with a swashbuckling action sequence, but then the camera moves back and reveals that we're actually watching an audience watching a film, the premiere of a Hollywood studio's latest production featuring its star actor, George Valentin (Jean Dujardin). After the premiere is over, when Valentin is posing for the press outside the theater, an accidental encounter brings him face-to-face with an admiring young fan, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), who ends up being photographed with him. In a turn of classic Hollywood mythology, Miller is 'discovered' and given a shot at being an extra in a film, which turns out to be the next film Valentin is featured in. A second chance encounter results in Valentin taking Miller under his wing, insisting to studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman) that she be given an actual part in the film. And thus Miller's career in film is begun.

The next part of the film draws thematically from film classics Singing in the Rain and A Star is Born. Fast-forwarding ahead to 1929, it is the beginning of the talking era, and studios are rushing to adapt to the new technology. Valentin is dismissive of the innovation, but Zimmer informs him that the studio is switching over to talkies immediately and anyone who can't adapt will be left behind. Refusing to budge, Valentin instead decides to produce his own silent epic, pouring all of his money into the production which he not only stars in but also directs. The film, Tears of Love, bombs horribly, ruining Valentin financially and eventually costing him not only his career and his house but also his marriage as well. But as Valentin's career fades, Miller's star is on the rise and soon she is a leading actress in her own right. But even as the plot descends into melodrama, it retains its comic touches and things are ultimately resolved in the most classically upbeat Hollywood way: a musical dance number.

Besides drawing on many of the themes in Singing in the Rain, The Artist is in many ways the perfect counterpoint film to it. Singing in the Rain deals with the transition from silent films to talking films, presented in a talking film with talking actors. The Artist deals with the same transition, but as a silent film centered around the point of view of a silent actor. Hazanavicius makes clever use of his format choices, bringing out Valentin's fears in a delightful sequence where everything in Valentin's room suddenly starts making noises. Already startled, Valentin then descends into panic when he realizes that his own voice is still silent, and that everything - and everyone - is being heard except him.

Hazanavicius did a lot of research in preparing for this film and put a lot of thought into the shooting. Besides being down in black and white, the Artist was also filmed in the full-screen ratio (1.33:1) that was the standard during the silent film era, which enhances the actors' faces, making them bigger on the screen, an important factor when much of the characters' intentions and feelings had to be conveyed silently rather than through dialogue. He also studied the lighting and camera techniques the original silent film directors used to enhance expression and convey mood.

The cast are, in a word, marvelous. Jean Dujardin's Valentin is the embodiment of the silent film movie idol, using heightened expression and body language - not to mention perfect comic timing - to bring his character to life. This is done quite subtly as we're often watching film within film, so that when the characters - who are silent film actors - portray characters in the films they're making, they're done just slightly more exaggerated than the characters are when they're being themselves. Bérénice Bejo does the same with her Peppy Miller, playing the rising young ingenue and the comedic characters that her character in turn portrays. Hazanavicius knows his actors, having worked with both Dujardin and Bejo in previous films (not to mention being married to Bejo in real life), and knows exactly how to bring out pitch perfect performances from the both of them. The supporting cast, from John Goodman's comically put-upon studio boss to James Cromwell's devotedly loyal chauffeur, Clifton, are also excellent. And then there's Uggie, the perky and soulful little terrier who steals every scene he's in as Valentin's on-screen and off-screen dog.

As one would expect in a film like this, Hazanavicius has worked in a number of nods to the silent film age and to films and the film industry in general, some of them fairly obvious and others rather subtle. For example, the sequence that shows Valentin and his wife becoming estranged is a comic take on the classic sequence from Citizen Kane showing Kane and his wife becoming estranged over breakfast. Later, a scene shows Valentin in his reduced-circumstances apartment, watching a reel from one of his silent swashbucklers on a projector. The scene in the film is actually from a real silent film, The Mark of Zorro, which starred Douglas Fairbanks, one of the biggest stars of the silent film era. In the places where the shots are close enough to recognize the actor, Hazanavicius inserted Dujardin in place of Fairbanks. And in another scene later in the film after Miller has become a major star, a rescued Valentin ends up being taken to her mansion after his apartment has a fire. The mansion used in the scene originally belonged to Mary Pickford, one of the biggest stars of the silent film era, and the bed Valentin wakes up in is Mary Pickford's actual bed.

Highly recommended, both as a truly creditable homage to the silent silver screen and as a thoroughly enjoyable film in its own right.

18 of 20 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Dujardin is Extraordinary in a Silent Screen Tribute Made from the Heart, December 5, 2011

By 

Ed Uyeshima (San Francisco, CA USA) - See all my reviews
(TOP 500 REVIEWER)    (HALL OF FAME REVIEWER)    (VINE VOICE)    (2008 HOLIDAY TEAM)    (REAL NAME)   

This review is from: The Artist (DVD)

To state that French filmmaker Michel Hazanavicius appreciates the artistry and emotional appeal of classic silent cinema would be a severe understatement. He devours it like only a true cineaste would and brings a unique deftness to such a long-forgotten medium that he singlehandedly brings it back to life if only for this one instance. Mostly silent with title cards and shot entirely black-and-white, this stylish 2011 dramedy starts in 1927 Hollywood as pre-Depression audiences were still enraptured by the heart-palpitating derring-do of matinee idols like Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. and John Gilbert on the silver screen. As Norma Desmond said in Sunset Boulevard, "We didn't need dialogue. We had faces then." And indeed Hazanavicius has found the appropriate doppelganger in his constant star Jean Dujardin portraying an amalgam of Fairbanks, Gilbert and Rudolph Valentino with a touch of Charlie Chaplin (notable in his comic scenes with the dog) and a little Gene Kelly-style hoofing thrown in for good measure.

Dujardin plays George Valentin, one of the silent screen's leading lights whose charming braggadocio is more than offset by his popularity. At the premiere of his latest romantic espionage caper, he has a "meet-cute" run-in with the fittingly named Peppy Miller, a pretty extra fumbling for her autograph book on the red carpet. He is immediately impressed with her beauty as well as her moxie, and in another "meet-cute" run-in, by her terpsichorean talent as well. Once their mutual attraction is established, the plot follows a standard A Star Is Born storyline by showing his career in decline while hers is on a fast rise with the advent of talkies. There is a buoyant spirit that infuses the story and sideswipes the more tragic elements one would expect from previous versions of this tale. That's how Hazanavicius manages to engage the viewer even though the film slows considerably during the middle section despite his meticulous efforts. There are also recognizable tributes to silent classics like F.W. Murnau's Sunrise and King Vidor's The Crowd and even a wink to the classic breakfast montage in Orson Welles' Citizen Kane to illustrate how Valentin and his icy wife drift apart.

Some of Valentin's most vulnerable moments are beautifully rendered like the puddle of liquor on the glass table, his window reflection against the tuxedoed torso of a mannequin, and a sure-to-be-classic nightmare scene where he hears every sound except his own voice. The movie jumps back to life with a surprisingly exhilarating ending that subtly explains the key dramatic point of the story. Dujardin immerses himself completely into the essence of his embattled, vainglorious character without a trace of irony. It's a genuinely exquisite performance that could have easily disintegrated into self-parody in less assured hands. What's more, the man can really dance. Bérénice Bejo (who also happens to be the director's wife) is lovely and vivacious as Peppy, although there are moments when she comes across as a mite too contemporary to be truly convincing as a period character. Take, for example, the fist pump she shows when she wins her first audition. At the same time, when she puts an arm through the sleeve of a jacket on a hanger and caresses herself with a hand she imagines to be his, she handles this piece of pantomime with true aplomb.

The two French stars are surrounded by familiar American faces like John Goodman as a Jack Warner-like, cigar-chomping producer; James Cromwell as Valentin's dutiful chauffeur; Penelope Ann Miller as Valentin's shingle-haired, ignored wife Doris; and Missi Pyle as a Lina Lamont-style starlet, appropriate since this film covers the same fertile ground as Singin' in the Rain. By the way, that's Uggie who plays the playful, clever Jack Russell terrier, an obvious paean to Asta from The Thin Man series. Kudos also need to be given to Guillaume Schiffman's accurately evocative cinematography (unlike other pastiches, the film looks like it was made in 1927), Laurence Bennett's production design (including an inventive use of the vintage Bradbury Building in downtown LA), and Ludovic Bource's swooning music score, which includes a snatch of Bernard Hermann's Vertigo score over a climactic scene. Even with all the praise heaped on this film from the critics, it's not for everyone's tastes. Silent cinema, by its very nature, beckons a certain patience from the audience that some will find tedious, and even at a running time of just 100 minutes, the movie still feels a bit long. At the same time, for those who can appreciate it as an art form, Hazanavicius has really delivered quite a treat.