The Artist Reviews

This is the first mainstream silent film to come out in nearly 40 years since “Mel Brook’s Silent Movie”, which is ironic because that movie was about trying to make the first mainstream silent movie in 40 years. I felt that after watching his first endeavors as a director with the “OSS 117” films that it was appropriate to finish off this “Hazanavicius-a-thon” (?) with the first time viewing of his most recognized work to date. This guy has only three real films under his belt and I already think he has become one of my favorite new-coming directors. “The Artist” is definitely my favorite movie that he’s done. It is a very great movie. This movie is actually sort of similar to another movie that I love, “Hugo”, as both are movies that are about movies that you watch and appreciate the cinematic experience. While I personally like “Hugo” more and think it’s a more original film, I still have to say that “The Artist” is just a wonderful movie that I think deserved Best Picture. As previously established with his “OSS 117” films, Michel Hazanavicius knows how to capture the field of an early era of time to the very best of modern abilities. With “OSS 117” he was able to perfectly capture the ‘60s, and with this film he is perfectly able to capture the ‘20s during the early age of cinema. The main focus of this movie was basically recounting a time when silent films were all the rage and a little thing called “talkies” came along and changed the world of cinema as we know it. “The Artist” is about a famous silent movie star who doesn’t accept the new change of “talkies” and his career goes to hell because of it. This is a depressing idea that actually unfortunately happened to a lot of real-life silent movie stars who just couldn’t make the transition. Despite the depressing concept, this is still a very enjoyable movie that acts as a really good tribute to old silent movies. “The Artist” really does take advantage of being a silent movie to tell its story with mostly no dialogue (not even many word cards) through body language and facial expressions. Jean Dujardin does an amazing performance as George Valentin who is not only becoming one of my favorite actors but definitely deserved to win Best Actor that year. Also, one of the best performances from a dog that I’ve seen in a long time that definitely deserved the Palm Dog Award (yes, that’s a real award for dog actors). Overall, “The Artist” is a great movie that I’m glad I finally got the chance to experience.

I've become a fan of silent movies since watching TCM so I thoroughly enjoyed this, though I confess to being happily surprised by sound at the end.

Every once in a while it’s nice to have a delicious little dessert of a movie. And The Artist, a love letter to a bygone era, is a loveable little pastiche of a movie. Would I have given it the Oscar for Best Picture? No, my heart belonged to Hugo. But it’s so hard to begrudge such a sweet, happy-go-lucky little movie. It doesn’t hurt that the two lead performances as so energetic and charismatic, or that the film is a treasure trove of references to both the real life histories of several silent movie stars and the movies themselves.

Perhaps the reason that The Artist swooping in out of left field to propel itself into the Oscar race, and eventually to become the winner, didn’t bother me was because it is something rare to see during awards season: a comedy that can, does and did. In a season that typically rewards painfully serious and depressing indie films or high-minded but emotionally empty prestige studio films, it was nice to see something that just wanted to entertain you, make you happy and leave the theater smiling gain so much attention. It doesn’t happen nearly often enough.

But enough about its place in the record books, a new piece of trivia for movie fanatics and awards show watchers, and its awards-season elevation to serious work of art, because at its heart The Artist is nothing more or less than a novelty, a pastiche that wants to make you laugh. Its silent film framework is nothing more or less than a framework, the chosen medium to tell its story. A mixture of a John Gilbert melodrama mixed with a Clara Bow comedy and a dash of A Star Is Born and Singin’ in the Rain thrown in for good measure get us close to the actuality of the film.

Taking place between 1927 and 1932, it tells the story of George Valentin’s (Jean Dujardin) fall from atop the highest peak of Movie Star Mountain, while his discovery Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) begins her meteoric rise to superstardom. There is, of course, a love story, both romantic and plutonic, between the two of them. She sees him as both the man who made her dreams possible and as a great love in her life. She respects and admires him, and consistently repays the debt she feels she owes him. Yes, that sounds an awfully lot like the basic outline for A Star Is Born, but unlike that film (take your pick, mine is the 1954 Judy Garland version) which ends in tragedy, this ends in a triumph.

Valentin’s movie star and filmography owes a tremendous debt to Douglas Fairbanks. The films we see him making are typically swashbuckling adventures like Zorro, which we see him watching as he isolates himself in a depression late in the film, or thrilling spy adventures filled with intrigue and romance, which we see him filming early on in the film. This romantic spy adventure is also the first film appearance for Peppy’s character, a part she got on the insistence of Valentin.

But his personal story is pure John Gilbert, but without the unfortunate and depressing end to the real story. A silent screen star whose career fades with the advent of sound? Yeah, it could be any number of silent film greats who never transitioned, but look at the way he’s attired and made-up. And look at the relationship between Valentin and Miller. Their relationship has echoes of the Gilbert-Greta Garbo romance/friendship. She fought for him to return to the screen until he died, rejecting the offers of other leading men to help her friend and former lover return to glory.

These layers prove that the film maybe a tasty pastry, and it may be parodying the whole transition from silent to sound, but it does so with knowledge and a lot of love. Look at the way that Miller’s character is a reworking of Clara Bow. Her peppy, perky and sexy presence is pure freewheeling energetic charisma, much like the cinema’s first “It” girl.

If the film never reveals why Valentin is reluctant to sound, does it really matter? His French accent is a possibility, but the history of the transition from silence to words is filled with people who put it off as long as possible or just left the business, refusing to make the transition at all, calling sound a great blow to the artistry of the medium. And it’s not as if the film is entirely silent. A lively score, so wonderful and deserving of the Oscar, plays throughout. A sequence is set to “Pennies from Heaven,” and there are two scenes which feature dialog and sound.

The first is a brilliantly played sequence in which Valentin has a nightmarish reaction to every sound in his life. A dog bark echoes throughout his mind like the encroaching sound of a hellhound hot on the trail. And the other is the ending sequence which sees Valentin, on the career rebound, and Miller do their best Astaire-Rogers. This scene encapsulates the best of both of these performances. Dujardin is handsome and goofy in equal measures. A man full of life and he easily carries the film on his shoulders and gives it a manic edge. Bejo keeps up with his manic energy, ably supporting him at every step of the way. They have expert control over their bodies, and can play both very broad and subtle, often switching gears within the same scene. And they radiate a warmth and expressivity that’s nice to see.

Is The Artist the great return-to-form of silent cinema? Probably not. But I love that it dared to be a black-and-white, fullscreen, silent film in 2011. It may not be a great work of art, that’s for time to decide, but it’s so entertaining and pleasing in the moment that you can forgive its faults. And, if nothing else, maybe this and Hugo will inspire people to go back and discovery, or rediscovery, the great silent actors like Charles Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Lillian Gish, Mary Pickford, Louise Brooks or Lon Chaney. Now can you really hate on a movie that could inspire that kind of gold-mine discovery?

When it comes down to it, the Academy Awards aren't always exactly fair. Especially when it comes to Best Picture. Both The Artist and Hugo were nominated for best picture, and both were a love letter to cinema. From there, it should've been obvious one of these two films would win; it just came down to choosing the better picture. And while I personally believe Hugo deserved the honors, The Artist was more than a worthy rival, and was full of charm and spunk.

It's 1927, and George Valentin is on top of the world. He's starring in film after film after film. He was an idol. But things change, and change is precisely what stops George Valentin's career. After pushing a former nobody named Peppy Miller into the acting world, things regarding films begin to change. Silent films are no longer acceptable. Only films with talking can survive the box office now. But George refuses to give in to "talkie" films. So while George suffers, Peppy thrives. And while Peppy only wants to be friends, George is determined to stay away from Peppy and talkie films.

Essentially, The Artist is riding on it's retro feel. Everything from the visuals, to the costumes, to the score is all very retro and nostalgic. And while this is The Artist's primary selling point, The Artist boasts many other attributes.

The story is not entirely original. The apprentice surpassing the master, change, etc. The Artist's story consists mostly of things we've seen before. The trick, though, is that The Artist takes these worn elements in a whole new direction. And of course, the old-fashioned feel helps with that.

The score (composed by Ludovic Bource) is much more important in this film than most others. Due to the lack of dialogue and sound, the music is all you hear. So if the music isn't fantastic the whole way through, it's up to the visuals to impress. Thankfully, the music is not only good, it's superb. With it's cheerful and old-fashioned feel, it's jazzy beats, and heavy (and appropriate) emphasis on the piano, The Artist's score is one the best of 2011.

Yet of course, The Artist won the Oscar for Best Original Score. Frankly, it's hard to say whether it deserved it. This is mostly because my other favorite scores of 2011 (Hugo and The Adventures of Tintin) are so distinctly different from the others, it's unfair to compare them. Ultimately, the score for The Artist is the most broadly appealing, which boosted it's odds at winning (plus, the audience was paying more attention to the music, being a silent film).

The acting was fantastic. There were a couple recognizable names in the mix, but a majority of the cast are unknowns. Jean Dujardin plays George Valentin, whom is constantly conflicted with what he wants, and what the world wants. This was a difficult role to play, but Dujardin nails it, and received a well-deserved Oscar for his efforts. Berenice Bejo also does a fantastic job with her role as Peppy Miller, likewise for the rest of the cast.

Conveying gestures into understandable actions (with surprising minimal subtitles) was not an easy task, but the actors have accomplished this well. Some scenes are so brilliantly acted and executed, they deserve a moment's appreciation.

Mixing drama with comedy, and adding some old school flair makes for a fresh and thoroughly entertaining film. The Artist doesn't quite reach the dramatic heights that the Academy would like us to believe, but it comes close, and serves as a funny and moving depiction of accepting change.

And the dog was cute too.

The Artist may have impressed the entire world. But there is one thing. What the movie tries to depict is that people are always attracted to new things (Fashion for example). They don't care about the old art and just want to watch movies or any play as a casual viewer. Valintin, the main character, is a silent picture king but when it came to talking movies, no one cared about him and his silent films anymore. Today, after watching this movie, I SAW and FELT the exact same thing this movie is trying to depict. That's because there was only me and my mom in the entire theater! In this little town where I live, no one cares about what you can call "True Art". Yes, I come from India where movies are quite different. They won't care even if "A Separation" or any Satyajit Ray classic was screened. Still, I expected this movie to receive half of the seats. But that did surprise me. It struck me then that I was witnessing a live example of what the movie was about. Therefore, the experience of "The Artist" was extremely strong for me and my mom. We both love movies very much. After returning from the movie, we did feel quite different about it. That's my personal experience about the movie.

Now about the movie itself. "The Artist" is different. The Director created a completely authentic 20's film that makes the film more lovely to watch. The story of course sounds predictable, the movie is not... Go and watch it, dudes. And if you are all alone with your friends or family, you might enjoy more!(Which I doubt...)

Considering that there was a rather unorthodox and unique idea behind it with a black and white silent film set in the 1920s being released in 2011, The Artist still provided us with the thought that it could become something that’ll renovate the birth of cinema, so to speak. With this in mind and having said that it is surrounded by all these colourful Hollywood dramas, action and science fiction films that we see in this generation, everything about The Artist literally swept away not only every film released in 2011 but the majority of the films released over the past decade! It has it all: it’s charming to watch with strong bonds between the characters, it is very emotional, it was surprisingly very funny with a lot of brilliant jokes and most of all: it manages to successfully capture the reality of the time setting.


To be able to pull off a successful silent film in this generation is a very difficult task considering that we are now piled with films with extremely high budgets featuring various aspects such as overloading visual effects, action films and the re-birth of 3D. So, having said this, there would need to be a solid enough story for it to work. Quite frankly, for it to perhaps reboot the older world of cinema it had to be a movie about movies otherwise if it’s part of any other particular theme of film story-wise, it wouldn’t really be something that hadn’t been repeated time and time again. Unlike many films in most recent years, The Artist consists of many breakthrough scenes that are somewhat referenced to Citizen Kane by Orson Welles and will undoubtedly become landmark scenes in many years to come.


French actor Jean Dujardin portrays English ‘speaking’ actor George Valentin and gives quite possibly one of the best performances in a very long time! Dujardin’s approach to the character very closely resembles both Clark Gable’s masterful performance as Rhett Butler in Gone With The Wind back in 1939 and Gene Kelly’s witty and delightful role as Don Lockwood in classic 1952 musical Singin’ In The Rain due to their mutually charming nature particularly towards the opposing gender. In addition to the mesmerizing attributes, Dujardin bought forth a lot of witty comedy that not only had similarity with Gene Kelly, but also with the legendary Charlie Chaplin in his films. Dujardin rightfully deserves the Academy Award for Best Leading Actor for renovating the silent style of acting and defining its true meaning so exquisitely. Alongside Dujardin comes another breakthrough performance from French actress Bérénice Bejo who brings forth a Marilyn Monroe-like character Peppy Miller with a naturally young and sexy nature, so to speak, who adds passion and pure enjoyment to the story. The bond that Valentin and Miller have is beyond any other romantic connection between a male and female protagonist seeing as there’s a very low supply of passionate kissing or intimate sexual contact. So, there’s an immediate bond between them and proves that emotional bonds are the most important aspect within relationships. Dujardin and Bejo together introduce a brand new message about acting that action really does speak louder than words.


In the supporting cast are various American and British actors featuring the likes of James Cromwell as Valentin’s valet, John Goodman as Al Zimmer – head of Kinograph Studios who Valentin regularly worked with in his silent projects, Penelope Ann Miller as Valentin’s wife and a cameo appearance from A Clockwork Orange actor Malcolm McDowell in a role simply known as “The Butler”. Another piece of treasure in the ensemble cast is to Uggie as Jack, who’s a trained Jack Russell Terrier who has appeared in various projects over the years (most recently in Water For Elephants). Hats go off to this dog who adds a lot of witty comedy to the film alongside Jean Dujardin and also a sense of innocence that’ll guarantee to gain the film a wider audience despite its occasionally unappealing style of film to many others out there. Uggie’s “performance” brings forth that emotionally realistic role that we saw so amazingly from Joey in War Horse!


With the majority being French behind all of the production aspects, they could not have accomplished a more accurate setting with the world of American Hollywood and restored the category of silent films so amazingly! In addition to the traditional 1.33:1 ratio of filming that was used during the silent era, the use of classical music composed by Ludovic Bource adds more liveliness and enchantment to the film as it tells the story alongside the actions from characters directed magnificently by Michel Hazanavicius. Hazanavicius provides numerous styles of direction during The Artist that feature upbeat and rather passionate forms including dancing and acting from the films within The Artist, the use of the background settings and directing Uggie but more depressingly, the personal psychological pain presented. His script was absolutely magnificent as well and became another characteristic expressed that provides the fact that films are really about actions rather than words.


Overall, The Artist is truly a masterpiece for the ages that will leave you speechless in every single way! It’s not only a love story between a man and a woman but it’s also and most importantly a love story about motion pictures. You could literally name many classic films (both silent and sound) where The Artist can in one way or another numerously be compared to. It’s a miraculous achievement in French cinema and tributes the works from filmmakers part of the silent era that include Charlie Chaplin, Georges Méliès, Howard Hawks and perhaps to Mel Brooks too for his work in the 1976 silent satirical comedy Silent Movie. The upcoming 84th Academy Awards and the majority of the awards presented would deservedly belong to The Artist due to the impact it has had in the world of cinema.

Simply Superb, Magical, Spell Bounding & Marvelous.

I must one of the strongest contender for the OSCARS this year. From the word GO, since the opening title rolled out for one and half hour the movie is pure magic. A silent, black-and-white romantic comedy, Story of pride, ego, self esteem, change, highs and lows, love and care.

Any movie lover should not miss this one.

''What I mean is it's either him AND me or neither of us!''

Hollywood, 1927: As silent movie star George Valentin wonders if the arrival of talking pictures will cause him to fade into oblivion, he sparks with Peppy Miller, a young dancer set for a big break.

Jean Dujardin: George Valentin
Bérénice Bejo: Peppy Miller

The Artist transports audiences back in time to the silent era of film. Director and writer Michel Hazanavicius effortlessly captures beauty with the rawest simplest way possible: By characters you can love and storytelling which flirts with our hearts.



The cast is phenomenal... Especially the two main leads: Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo... And Uggie the dog. He deserves an award and recognition, a talent to be reckoned with, where every movement and action has its own meaning. We fall in love and can relate to the characters struggles, the highs and lows of our career and the fickle nature of the people whom surround us. It shows us one person can make a difference when love is involved.

The cinematography is creative and fresh... Reflections serve as symbolic majesty. Dreams serve as visions for the future.
This is truly art... Moving art which transports us back in time and injects freshness into an otherwise predictable world of cinema. A reminder of a golden age where expressions melt our hearts and mean something, where the eyes of characters and the smiles they exchange make us feel so much. They are believable and alive. What could remind you or awaken something long forgotten inside you? The Artist is truly that inspirational reminder. A reminder of creativity, love and change.
Any artists or writers whom have the luxury to watch The Artist will love the variety and poignant minimalism which reflects your own journey. We see our own lives and our own hopes and fears come alive.
Sometimes the film cleverly makes you want to reach out and tell the characters what to do when they struggle to make the right choice or when they fail to recognise how much someone can mean to you.
Whether the dog is saving his master or the clever twist where it is not the man saving the woman: It is her saving him. They keep each other safe and that in itself is beautiful. It touches your heart in ways that are so hard to describe.

All I can say is don't judge a book by its cover: The Artist deserves to be experienced and not to be missed. On a personal level it is a piece of inspiration and it allows us to travel back in time with many aspects still relevant to our modern era.
The Artist is certainly a change and a breath of fresh air in our effect laden film industry, where audiences are so zombified, they forget the most important thing: The story. That is all you need... And romance and emotion. The Artist makes you fall in love with not just silent film all over again... It makes you fall in love with life all over again. A universal love letter coming alive in our hearts, before our eyes, and in our souls.

This is where film and art originated and we need to remember how important that is. The Artist helps us remember that. Beautiful.

''Perfect!''

You'd be forgiven for thinking that all the advertisements for The Artist make it look exclusively like a throwback. That, of course, would be a turn-off for someone who's never seen a silent black-and-white movie or for someone who's prejudiced against films like that because they expect the experience will be monotonous. Thankfully, this cinematic offering doesn't limit itself to just reproducing something similar to what you would've seen in a 1929 film. Despite the era in which it's set, it makes its share of subtle references and notes on life in the 21st century, both inside and outside movie theaters. That it does it with so much style, with a wallop of entertainment, and with two characters with whom we can easily fall in love makes The Artist a joyous, absorbing experience at the movies.

It's 1927, and George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is the most renowned silent movie star in what used to be known as Hollywoodland. Audiences relish going to see films starring George, and the women all howl like schoolgirls at the opportunity of getting even close to having any contact with him. One day, George is outside being interviewed, while a crowd of swooning females is being held back by a guard. And then something happens. It's one of those small, apparently insignificant events that ends up having unexpectedly big consequences for the future of more than one person. One of those swooning girls, Peppy (Bérénice Bejo), drops her bag and moves forward to pick it up, which makes her inadvertently cross over into the area where George is standing. It's a bit of an awkward moment, but it's enough to get the photographers to start taking pictures of George and Peppy together, which then starts making the public (which was as gossip-hungry about celebrities as it is today) start wondering who "that girl" is. The next day, Peppy's visiting the studio at which George is working on a movie, and as one thing leads to another, Peppy starts working her way into the movie industry. And it turns out that she started to do so at a key moment in cinema, because "talkies" are about to start arriving in theaters. This is good news for Peppy, who starts working her way up from minor supporting roles until she becomes a veritable superstar, but bad news for George who's unwilling (and, as we'll find, mortally afraid) to make the transition to "talkies" - since he refuses to do so, his fame starts to wane and he slowly starts fading into oblivion.

But before you start getting the wrong idea, The Artist isn't the story of a girl who took advantage of some guy in order to move up in the world and then just forgot entirely about him. Peppy's not a villain in the least bit. She's a blissful, unassuming sweetheart who never really stops being the fervent fan of George that she was before she entered the movie business. She cares deeply for George. The film makes the infinitely wise decision of not letting this relationship feel too much like a romance, but rather, it's more of a touching, heartwarming friendship that inevitably gets put into jeopardy as a result of the separate paths that George and Peppy each take. One of my favorite moments in the film is one that unfolded very contrary to my expectations. George has insisted on continuing to make silent movies, and after he completes one, he announces the release date, only to shortly find out that, of course, a talkie starting Peppy will be released on the same date. It'd be reasonable to predict how this will all probably unfold: George's film will be met with a near-empty auditorium, while Peppy will be sitting at her new film's premiere, receiving all sorts of accolades from her spectators. However, what ACTUALLY happens makes us realize that The Artist is more interested in capturing the fact that, in spite of all the fame she has attained, Peppy hasn't been able to change her stripes, as she's still utterly fascinated by what George has to offer as an artist and she hasn't stopped caring for him as a human being. No matter what you do for a living, it's hard to hide what you're truly passionate about, because it's what you'll always gravitate towards.

The Artist may be a silent movie and it may be set in the 1930s, but it has a lot to say about modern times. We're living in a time in which technology is having a massive effect on the way we're able to see films, and some hail all these changes as wonderful breakthroughs, and others, like George, see it as a disheartening shift that is taking a beloved art form in an undesirable direction. What I find even more intriguing, though, is the film's sagacious commentary on the nature of celebrity and on what the general public cares about and doesn't care about. With Peppy, we notice how she starts out in minor roles (even with her name misspelled on the credits at first), and we watch as she starts moving upwards in the list of credits until she's the face on the poster of every big movie, and audiences absolutely adore her and flock to see everything she's in. On the other hand, as George's fame starts to fade away, it gets to a point that he can even walk on the street or sit in a movie theater without being recognized by anyone. People seem to have forgotten about him. We may feel discouraged by what the film ultimately tells us about what needs to happen in order for people to suddenly remember a forgotten celebrity like George - but it's the truth. A film like The Artist invites you to relish in all the joy it has to offer, but that doesn't stop it from proffering the bitter reminder that the public eats up tragedies and disasters. Isn't that part of why we love watching movies?

Since my knowledge of silent movies is extremely limited, you won't find in this review a list of all the silent black-and-white films that are probably referenced throughout The Artist. I leave that to professional critics and to film students. I review films as someone with no academic background on movies, but I do it because I like doing it, and I think at least some people may be able to draw something useful from the perspective I have to offer. If you're looking for an academic approach, you should look elsewhere. Now, I do have to say that, in my perhaps uneducated opinion, the weakest aspect of The Artist is that the way in which it presents characters' reactions towards the transition from silents to talkies is awfully simple-minded. A lot of the dialogue that is shown to us on screen in order to let us know the characters' thoughts on the situation is negligible and repetitive: "People wanna hear!" "In with the new out with the old!" Lines like that are repeated in the film more often than necessary. I'm not saying that I expected something ultra-deep from these lines - I understand that it's not easy to pack something too profound into those short statements that are presented on screen. The problem is that these simplistic comments get reiterated over and over again, sometimes to the point that you may be tempted to break the silence and yell "Okay, we get it!". It feels like The Artist could've exhibited a bit more restraint in this department. As the only example I feel I can proffer here, The Passion of Joan of Arc is a silent film that uses the same mechanism of showing lines of dialogue, but it uses this mechanism mainly with the purpose of providing information, rather than to reiterate a character's opinions and emotions more often than necessary - after all, in silent films, one should obviously rely more on the facial expressions for that.

Bérénice Bejo gives a beautiful, luminous performance (one that I'm not so sure can be classified as "supporting"). She truly earns her character's name, but she also consistently feels like a real person whose spirit can break if she experiences a disillusionment or if harm comes in the direction of someone she cares about. I'm overjoyed that the filmmakers chose to go in this direction with this character, rather than the conventional route of making her an initially innocent character who then changes radically and becomes pretentious once she joins the "dark side" and the fame goes to her head. That's been done about a dozen times. Bejo and the filmmakers instead give us someone who retains her blissful sense of innocence, yet this is never something that makes the character or the film feel too light and/or superficial, because she also experiences anguish and frustration at all the right moments. While Bejo's performance spoke much more to me than the one given by her co-star, Jean Dujardin still gives a solid (albeit slightly overrated, in my mind) lead performance, effectively capturing all the emotional ups and downs that George goes through. Oh, and I can't close this paragraph without making note of John Goodman's delightfully gruff performance as the cigar-smoking film director.

Someone will probably write an interesting essay someday discussing The Artist and Hugo as the two 2011 films that bowed down to cinema. There are two fundamental reasons why I find The Artist to be more effective. First, Hugo waits until its second half to reveal its reverential intentions, which isn't something I'd normally have a problem with, except that I felt that, in doing so, it sidelined the film's central story. The Artist is, from beginning to end, a piece of cinema reverence, but the dynamics between George and Peppy are consistently at the heart of it, and never get eschewed. Secondly, Hugo banks too much on the "Aw shucks" factor, which feels like it permeates literally every scene, whereas The Artist, as much as it has its share of cuteness, is still interested in at least taking an indirect look at dark subjects and at imparting criticism.

Looked at superficially, The Artist looks like nothing but a joyous homage to black-and-white silent films, but the film isn't without its dark streaks, which help elevate it significantly. It provides grim commentary on stardom and on the difficulty of making an artistic transition after you've been used to a particular way of pouring your heart and soul into an art form. If the movie had limited itself to looking at George and Peppy separately, merely as a way to observe how one artist rises and the other falls, the film wouldn't have exploited its potential entirely. But since the film chooses not to dispose of Peppy's spirit as a lover of George's films and as someone who dearly wants to be George's friend and to be involved in his life, the relationship between the two characters keeps us fully engaged all the way into the dramatically turbulent climactic scenes. The fact that The Artist is an outwardly jovial film that still carries much in the way of serious undertones is demonstrated perfectly by the film's final sequence, which consists of a musical number that, wonderful and upbeat as it may be, is followed by a denouement that feels resigned more than anything else. It's a film that offers us great joy in the face of disillusionment, which may be exactly what we need today.