In Glorious Black And White, An 'Artist' Falls Silent In 1927 Hollywood, a silent-film icon (Jean Dujardin) is about to face a challenge with the arrival of talkies — while a young extra (Berenice Bejo) stands on the verge of stardom. (Recommended)
NPR logo

In Glorious Black And White, An 'Artist' Falls Silent

  • Download
  • <iframe src="" width="100%" height="290" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" title="NPR embedded audio player">
  • Transcript
In Glorious Black And White, An 'Artist' Falls Silent


Arts & Life


Many films at the multiplex these days push the high-tech envelope, from cutting-edge digital animation to increasingly realistic motion capture, all of it in eye-popping 3D. But one new film moves proudly in the opposite direction. To tell a story set in the 1920s, "The Artist" uses 1920s technology. It's a silent movie filmed in black and white.

And our critic Bob Mondello says even he wondered how well it would work.

BOB MONDELLO, BYLINE: The first few seconds of "The Artist" contain all the things you're afraid of in a silent black-and-white movie: melodrama, overacting, nothing seeming remotely real. The first thing you see is a huge mouth, moving silently, and the titles "I won't talk. I won't say a word." Kind of on-the-nose, right?

But then the camera pulls back, and you realize that you're watching a guy being interrogated in a spy flick - a movie within a movie - at a star-studded 1927 premiere. Lots of people sitting in a theatre, the camera cuts to behind the screen where the actors stand in evening clothes waiting to go out and take a bow, star George Valentin, who was being interrogated on screen, his Jack Russell terrier, and an actress he doesn't seem to think much of.

As their interaction is intercut with the spy movie, the differences register and your initial fears slip away. I mean, the folks off screen are all silent and black-and-white, too. But the film is already wrapping you up in a world where silence makes sense.


MONDELLO: That world is about to be disrupted for George, both at the movies and in his personal life. He'll be knocked off stride first by talking-pictures, which he's convinced are just a fad, and then by a pretty girl named Peppy. She's an extra who is cast opposite him for a scene where you watch her youthful glow and hesitant smile catch both him and the camera.

With talkies, and therefore, musicals, coming in, her skill as a dancer is about to be much valued. His skill at pantomime, on the other hand, won't be. So he's on his way down, Peppy is on her way up. And in case you miss that, director Michel Hazanavicius has them meet halfway on a staircase - he dejected, she just radiant.


MONDELLO: Now, if you know something about silent movies, you'll be making all sorts of connections by this time. George, as played by French actor Jean Dujardin, is a cross between swashbuckler Douglas Fairbanks and romantic lead John Gilbert, who was known as The Great Lover until sound came in and audiences heard him saying I love you, I love you, I love you, over and over.

Berenice Bejo's Peppy, meanwhile, is channeling a lot of that era's pretty young things, including Greta Garbo, who fell for Gilbert while making one of her first American movies. Even Uggie, George's faithful mutt seems familiar - a great-great-great-grand nephew, maybe, of Asta from the "Thin Man" movies.

All of that is fun for those in the know. But what will lift this movie way above most of what's at the multiplex right now, even for folks who are not silent movie buffs, is the way the director makes you a willing, even an excited fan of this crazy, old-fashioned thing he's doing.

By the time the opening sequence is over, you'll have realized that in his hands, silence is almost liberating. It heightens all things visual, makes the jokes - and "The Artist" is a very funny picture - sort of pop and fizz, even as it's putting extra smolder into lovesick glances.

Keep an eye out for movie marquees and posters on screen, nearly every one of them will prompt a smile. And when the director decides to try an ingenious exception to his rule that silence is golden, the delighted gasps in the theater will make you so glad you took a chance on "The Artist."

Make no mistake, silent black-and-white movies are not coming back, but this one is such a rewarding labor of love by all of the artists involved that it'll make you wish they could.

I'm Bob Mondello.

Copyright © 2011 NPR. All rights reserved. Visit our website terms of use and permissions pages at for further information.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by Verb8tm, Inc., an NPR contractor, and produced using a proprietary transcription process developed with NPR. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.