In Theaters: The Artist -

By Tommy Bond, Film Critic

It takes much more than a mere black and white filter to make a film look so convincingly old. The frame must be square, the camera movement just so, the lighting perfectly angled and balanced, the footage processed with care and thought, and the blocking carefully staged.

It would be a painstakingly intense and excruciating process to do it right. And it is for this reason that no one has ever truly set out to recreate such a classic look. Until writer/director Michel Hazanavicius was so bold, that is.

His film, The Artist, a heavy Oscar contender, might as well have stepped out of a time machine, for in its construction it is flawless. Perfect.

Did I mention it’s a silent film? Yeah, that’s right, with title cards and everything. Did you notice I wasn’t complaining about it, either?

This film is so brave, so refreshingly bold in it’s approach to tell the story of an aging silent film star, George Valentin (a pitch-perfect Jean Dujardin), his struggle to embrace the emerging world of the talkies and its brightest star, Peppy Miller (a glowing Berenice Bejo), the girl that got away from him.

From the film’s silent yet brilliant stab at talkies in its opening scene, to it’s wonderfully surprising conclusion, this is an artistic picture disguised as Big Hollywood. The actors are fantastic, and they should be, for they don’t have the crutch of words. It’s all in their expression and posture.

Then throw in a script that’s as smart as a whip, a cute little doggy, and a score that runs nearly the entire length of the picture. Is that a composer’s dream, or a nightmare? I don’t know, but it was fantastic.

Brilliant though it may be, at an hour-forty it felt long at times. Was it the film itself, or just my young, untrained ears that are so attuned to words and sound? I can’t be sure, but it is what it is.

Still, with such a rousing conclusion, an edge-of-your-seat climactic scene, and a big smile-inducing ending, I can’t help but forget that my ears had a momentary lapse on what outstanding filmmaking looks and…”sounds” like.