<i>The Artist</i> -- Confronting the Death by Sensual Overload

-- Confronting the Death by Sensual Overload
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.

Do you want to watch a movie? A black-and-white movie? A black-and-white silent movie?

No! No! No! No!

I want color! I want 3-D! I want surround sound! I want effects! I want action! I want sexy good-looking cast! And while watching, I want to eat buttery popcorn and sip on super-sized Coke (not diet). Please entertain me!

No wonder real life might seem like a bore. In fact, I wonder how with all this massive over-stimulation we are still capable of feeling anything.

Michel Hazanavicius, the director of The Artist, somehow dared to take on a mission impossible: to create a movie out of a pretty unexciting story, not so famous cast, not a single spoken dialogue and in black-and-white. I guess the dude really wanted to make a point. I am just curious about his motivations: was it a profound hope for humanity or prudent distaste of current cinema culture or just a drunken bet?

So I recommend you go and surprise yourself with how little you need in a movie to get handsomely entertained -- you won't miss human voices or special effects or famous faces - all that with one caveat, which leads me to the last point I wanted to make. I was puzzled for a while why the movie was called The Artist. Probably not because George Valentin, the main character, said it once about himself nor because his doggie (by the way, you can follow her on Twitter now @Uggie_TheArtist) played out wonderful artistic tricks. Was Hazanvicius really referring to himself? What do you think?

Popular in the Community

Close

What's Hot