The Artist (2011, France)

It is so clear to me how this lovely, charming, wonderful film won so many Academy Awards this year. I would have loved to have seen it on the big screen, because it was just wow, and a theater would have made it even more so.

Seriously, everything about it was just magical. A silent film about the silent film era is a strange but successful subject. Modern audiences could be thrown off by the lack of speech, but the actors convey so much with their faces and bodies, and the absolutely stellar score (heavy on the jangly piano) does the rest. I smiled, I laughed, I cried, I loved it!

They captured the era with the subject, the sets, the costumes, the score (especially the score—maybe the best Oscar-winning score of all time!), the title cards, the props, the everything. Yet the story of a man who suddenly finds himself obsolete (and in love with the new face of the future, to boot) was timeless. Really, the story was just... charming. I was enraptured. I even loved the use of blatant symbolism (like when he sinks into a sand pit in his final silent film) despite (and maybe because of) its obviousness. George Valentin has this dream where suddenly there is noise everywhere but he can't speak, and it was just brilliantly executed. Brilliantly.

As I mentioned, the actors were incredible and portrayed a wide range of emotion flawlessly. (Dare I include the adorable Uggie, who played The Dog? He was much better here than in Water for Elephants!) Dujardin certainly earned his Oscar. He was every inch the charmer, but he was also believable when he fell on hard times too. (When he finally did speak his only two words of the film, I felt the urge to clasp my hands to my chest and grin like an idiot.) He makes the viewer fall in love with him and mourn for the world he represents, a world that is vanishing for him and has already slipped into the fog of the distant past for us. But Bérénice Bejo was just as good as Dujardin, and sometimes even better. Her Peppy Miller was vivacious, effervescent, and so full of life that I kept expecting her to pop out of the scene at any second. Her megawatt smiles and flamboyant dance moves and ceaseless energy were hard not to fall in love with too. But her character had a big heart too, as her occasional tear-filled eyes illustrated well. Seriously, I've said it twice in this paragraph already, but I just fell in love with them both. I don't see how any film lover could avoid succumbing to their sparkling charms. Captivating doesn't even begin to describe Dujardin, Bejo, or the entire film.

I could ramble forever. This is a love letter to the movies, and it bears reading and rereading by cinephiles everywhere. (The fact that audible language plays such a small role makes it even more accessible to film lovers worldwide.)

I can't wait to watch it again. Did I mention I was in love and entirely charmed?

Rating: 5.0