In 2011, French filmmaker Michel Hazanavicius wrote and directed The Artist, a silent, black-and-white movie shot in the Academy ratio, 4:3. The sheer boldness of releasing a film that was antithetical to the noisy, fast-paced, effects-heavy blockbusters of today charmed critics into rave reviews. The Artist garnered a number of awards: It was nominated for ten Academy Awards, winning Best Film, Best Actor, Best Director, Costume Design, and Musical Score.

The simple story follows the ups and downs of George Valentin, a major star at Kinograph Studios. George's favorite costar is a Jack Russell terrier who gets him out of jams on and off the screen. Cocky but amiable, the star exudes charisma and charm. After attending the opening of his latest hit, The Russian Affair, George literally runs into Peppy Miller on the red carpet. The publicity over their "meet-cute" helps Peppy, an aspiring actress, get a leg up at Kinograph. The mutual attraction between star and starlet intensifies as their paths continue to cross around the studio. However, the coming of sound represents a turning point for George and Peppy: The star refuses to accept the new technology and evolve with the times, while the starlet's youthful exuberance and modern sensibility prove perfect for sound movies.

Though Hazanavicius is clearly paying his respects to the Silver Age of Hollywood, The Artist does not duplicate the conventions and styles of silent cinema. The pace of the editing is faster, the cinematography crisper, and the camera movement more modern. And, while lead actors Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo echo the expressive, external performing style of silent movies, they avoid the broad arm gestures, widened eyes, and repetitive motions that were typical of the era. The Artist is not a nostalgic exercise in resurrecting a past cinematic era; nor does it promote silent films as superior, because by the end, it embraces the new sound technology as an inevitable evolution.

Instead, The Artist pays homage to cinema by referencing its history and by playfully parroting the conventions, actors, tropes, genres, plots, and techniques of silent film. The characters are composites of Silver Age stars. George's last name is one letter shy of Valentino, though he looks and moves like Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. At one point, George watches himself in one of his old movies, but it is actually a clip from one of Fairbanks's films. Peppy's short hair, cloche hat, and vivacious personality are reminiscent of Clara Bow or Colleen Moore. In addition to recognizable stars, there are references to storylines and scenes from cinema's most significant films. The career paths of George and Peppy are like a version of A Star Is Born, while the breakfast scene between George and his ungracious wife recalls a similar scene between Charles Foster Kane and his wife Emily in Citizen Kane. In the film's most controversial reference, the soundtrack of Vertigo is recognizable in an emotional sequence in which Peppy races through the streets of Hollywood in search of George much like a love-struck James Stewart drives the streets of San Francisco in Hitchcock's film. Variety's reviewer criticized Hazanavicius's decision to borrow the highly recognizable Vertigo soundtrack, while Kim Novak took out a full-page ad in the trades likening the use of the music to rape.

The Artist opens with a scene from A Russian Affair, in which George's suave, heroic character refuses to capitulate to the Russian spies who are holding him captive. Later, Peppy lands a bit part in A German Affair, another of George's improbable adventure flicks. A third film-within-a-film finds George in a costume drama set during the era of the French monarchy, while the actor's last silent film is an African adventure tale complete with pith helmets and quicksand.

The Artist uses visual metaphors to comment on the realities of the characters' situations in key scenes. After George angrily dismisses talking films as ridiculous and quits Kinograph, a long shot of the building's interior shows him walking down the three flights of stairs. About halfway down, he meets Peppy walking up. His career is descending while hers is ascending. George writes, directs, and stars in Tears of Love, a silent African adventure story using the tried and true formula of his past films. At the sparsely attended premiere, the movie's conclusion shows George's character disappearing into quicksand. Even his faithful canine companion cannot save him. The quicksand scene symbolizes the rapid decline of George's career and his eventual disappearance from the collective consciousness of the audience. Down on his luck, George walks past a movie theater where the title on the marquee telegraphs his inner feelings: Lonely Man. Peggy's new movie, Guardian Angel, foretells her role in George's life, though he does not realize it at the time.

The film is most clever with its playful referencing to George's main problem, which is his dogged refusal to give up silent movies for sync-sound. The Artist opens with the premiere screening of the film-within-a-film A Russian Affair. George's character declares via intertitle, "I won't talk. I won't say a word." The Russian offer commands him to "speak," but George's character refuses. The play on silent vs. sound continues as the camera moves behind the screen to reveal the actors waiting to address the audience. A sign notes, "Please be silent behind the screen." A full orchestra provides the live musical score for A Russian Affair, but we don't hear a note; nor do we hear the audience wildly applauding the film. A post-screening radio interview with George is also silent, though the very essence of the medium of radio is spoken conversation. Even George's home life finds him unwilling to speak. His disenchanted wife begs him, "We have to talk. Why do you refuse to talk?," reminding us of the character's central conflict.

George's utter fear of sound is revealed in a dream sequence, which begins with him returning to his dressing room at the studio. When he places his glass on his dressing table, a clear "clink" can be heard, followed by a succession of sound effects, including laughter, a ringing phone, a barking dog, and a floating feather that sounds like an explosion when it hits the ground. George leaps from bed, awakened from a nightmare in which each sound seems to alter his very existence. The sequence not only leaves viewers awestruck at the power of a well-placed sound effect but also provides just a hint of what audiences in the 1920s must have felt upon hearing sync sound for the first time.

By Susan Doll