The Artist

I'm fascinated by how the concepts of satire, parody, homage, and pastiche have a point of overlap -- a dependence on an original piece of art -- but branch off in different directions. Satire and parody are easy enough to track, but it's the line between homage and pastiche that is applicable when talking about The Artist. An homage is more of a direct 1:1 tribute to a specific piece of art or artist. As much as find his works to be lazy, derivative, and devoid of originality, Brian de Palma has made several movies that could be called homages (Dressed to Kill and Casualties of War being the most prominent, as homages to Hitchcock and Oliver Stone). A pastiche is a little more broad, taking wider inspiration from an overall style or genre. Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill Vol. 1 could be considered a pastiche of martial arts movies of the 70's, as it doesn't directly copy one movie or director, instead taking elements from many and blending them. The Artist is, without a doubt, a loving pastiche of silent movies. Slapstick, melodrama, musical and dance, German impressionist, and more styles are all referenced in The Artist. The concept of the "It Girl" is central to The Artist's story about two people -- an aging star of the silent era and a young dancer looking to break into the business -- as silent movies give way to talkies. Every scene in The Artist is dripping with style and reverence for the dawn of Hollywood. The costumes, the make-up, the sets, everything about The Artist expresses a love for the silent movie era. The acting is more physical, the music more present and driving, and they come together with the direction to tell a simple story of a changing of the guard. The Artist isn't trying to Say Something or explore deep themes or have some kind of social resonance; it is a light, breezy movie about the movies and movie stars from an era none of us lived through. It is a window to the past. It is also completely, utterly, and painfully inconsequential, and, in its own way, useless as a movie. The central problem with the concept of a pastiche is that, at its core, it isn't original at all. It's a copy. By design, it offers nothing new. It's mimicry. Whether it is done well or not is another story, but the concept itself is just mimicry, and often, experiencing a copy makes one yearn for the original thing, because pastiche is little more than a gimmick. While there is no direct "original" when it comes to what The Artist is mimicking, there is the style itself of silent movies. Watching The Artist left me feeling amused but empty. It was a fine enough imitation of silent movies, but I couldn't stop asking myself why I wasn't watching a classic silent movie instead, like The Lodger or The Kid. It's like having the option to go to Olive Garden or Mama Nona's Italian Ristorante; Olive Garden is good, but why would I ever consider the imitation when the real thing is an option? And because the story itself is so shallow and lightweight, it leaves The Artist is a tricky spot where it can hardly justify its own existence beyond being cinematic junk food. Exceptionally crafted, sure, and you can feel the love in every frame, but that doesn't change what it is. An apple pie made by Gordon Ramsey is just as much junk food as an apple pie made by your grandma or Marie Callender's. I watched The Artist and within a day or two, it will fade from memory in a way The Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari or The Hands of Orloc will never do. It's sweet that the director of The Artist loves silent movies so much, and he did a fantastic job showing that love, but maybe next time he feels the need to express his love publicly, make a Substack instead.