The Artist (2011)

Director/writer Michel Hazanavicius’ much-celebrated “silent” black-and-white comedy-drama “The Artist” is a high-wire act of cinematic love that pays homage to and plays with the earliest movies. The plot: Boisterous star of 1920s action films George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) falls hard from celebrity as “Talkies” become Hollywood’s mantra, ironically sweeping the starlet (Bérénice Bejo) he discovered to fame. Hazanavicius trumps expectations throughout, putting Valentin in a nightmare world of “sound” where glasses clink and dogs bark, but our hero has no voice. Sly jokes abound, too: A grammatical error in a dialogue card nudges a scene into hilarity. The lack of vocals makes us focus on the faces and gestures of the actors, the artists, on screen and fully appreciate their craft: Dujardin, Bejo, James Cromwell, and John Goodman. Dujardin and Bejo’s onscreen chemistry is priceless, and their final scene packs two surprises: The long-lost glory of dance in movies, and the real fear why Valentin feels he has no voice in America. Rare is the moment when “Artist” is truly silent, for it packs a stellar score using music new and old to serve as a substitute for voices, a narration of orchestra and ’20s jazz. Also, best dog ever. A