The Artist: (Ludovic Bource) French director Michel
Hazanavicius had always dreamed of making a silent, black and white
movie about the transition to "talkies" in Hollywood's early days, and
after a pair of moderately successful spy movies in the 2000's, he was
afforded the opportunity to write and direct
The Artist in 2011.
The French film, adorned with English intertitles but otherwise without
dialogue, tells of the relationship between an aging male star of silent
films and a younger actress destined for greatness in cinema's next
phase. Its 1927 setting in Hollywood allowed Hazanavicius to not only
explore a compelling love story, but also make a commentary about the
history of this era of cinema, all through the lens of techniques
applicable to that period. The two leads of
The Artist carry over
from the director's collaborations in his prior spy films, though the
2011 movie also casts a handful of more familiar character actors in
supporting roles. After surprising viewers at the 2011 Cannes Film
Festival, the film was distributed by Warner Brothers and The Weinstein
Company internationally for wider audiences, yielding tremendous
receptions from reviewers and arthouse viewers. As expected, the unique
nature of the film led to countless nominations from independent awards
bodies, catapulting the movie into contention for America's major awards
at the end of the year. Among the features of
The Artist
recognized by these groups is Ludovic Bource's original score, a
dominant force in the film because of its placement alone in the audio
mix. When sentimental music from yesteryear is allowed to carry
heartbreaking scenes by itself, as witnessed in Michael Giacchino's
Up a couple of year prior, the affinity factor for that
soundtrack is difficult to ignore for awards voters. The task of writing
an early Golden Age-style score for
The Artist presented an
immense challenge for Bource, however. The French composer was a
relative unknown at the time of this film's debut, best recognized for
his collaboration with Hazanavicius on his previous endeavors. Bource
admitted to being a bit overwhelmed by the project at first, for his
role in
The Artist required him to purely emulate the style of
soundtracks heard in silent movies of the era without simply creating a
cheap parody of them. Without a substantial base of orchestral
knowledge, Bource spent a significant amount of time with Hazanavicius
studying both the music of Golden Age composing legends and the prior
classical composers who had in part inspired them. He laboriously wrote
and re-wrote passages to quote the mannerisms and demeanor of early film
music without directly copying it, essentially forcing himself to write
the genuine article nearly 100 years after it originally existed.
There should be absolutely no doubt in any listener's
mind that Bource's achievement for
The Artist merits all the
praise it deserves. In a technical sense, this is simply a marvelous
score. Learned ears will hear references to a myriad of 19th Century
classical staples and homage after homage to Franz Waxman, Erich
Wolfgang Korngold, Max Steiner, and Alfred Newman (as well as the seeds
of Bernard Herrmann's trademark suspense tones in the action cues and
Maurice Jarre's later work late in "Fantaisie D'Amour"). Lighter
passages of prancing rhythmic flair, meanwhile, are reminiscent of
Charlie Chaplin, Leigh Harline, and Carl Stalling. During the course of
The Artist, Bource seemingly touches upon such a wide spectrum of
Golden Age inspirations that the score may play like a compilation of
music from the period for casual listeners, though the composer does
apply these structures and emphases in performance to a common handling
with the Brussels Philharmonic Orchestra of Flanders. The most important
element of success in the score is its extroverted and generally
optimistic personality; this kind of music was never meant to be subtle,
and the composer responds with a tone so emotionally communicative that
it may overflow with exuberance to too great of an extent for some
listeners. There have been tributes to the Golden Age sound in recent
years that were more balanced, but while there is some lament to be
heard on piano late in
The Artist (and full ensemble poignantly
in "The Sound of Tears" and "My Suicide"), the major-key expressions of
romance and pomp are clearly the core. The primary theme in
The
Artist is a quirky, infectious, xylophone-aided tune for the lead
male character, heard extensively in the trio of cues starting with
"George Valentin" and returning for similar fun in "1931" and beyond.
The female lead receives her own bubbly identity in "Waltz For Peppy," a
theme that eventually swirls with innocent delight for fuller
applications at the climax of the score. The drawbacks of
The
Artist are precisely its assets, its purpose so clearly a wholesale
tribute to the early Golden Age of film music that it's impossible to
appreciate it as anything else. Bource and Hazanavicius, who played this
genre of music on set to put the actors in the right mood for the shoot,
very consciously attempted to avoid creating a parody. The hopelessly
chipper attitude of the music will cause the score to sound like a
parody to some listeners nevertheless, and if you have misgivings about
this sound to begin with, then be aware that
The Artist could
drive a person mad. Along with a handful of source pieces on the very
long album, the score will predictably expose generational divides and
likely have difficulty earning more than intellectual respect from those
solely accustomed to the Digital Age of film music.
**** @Amazon.com: CD or
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The insert includes a list of performers and an interview with the
composer (in English and French).
