I posted that glowing reflection on The Artist late last night. I woke up this morning to this column by David Mitchell in The Observer. My favorite British curmudgeon bemoans the way that too-high expectations can ruin an experience in his trademark biting manner.
So it stands to reason that if you haven’t seen The Artist and you read my last post, I’ve built up your expectations too much and you will end up being let-down. I’ve essentially ruined The Artist for you. You’re going to hate the whole experience and wonder why anyone ever thought the movie was worth anything.
It’s all my fault. I have contributed to what Mitchell terms a “perpetual hype-disappointment loop.”
So, in an attempt to remedy the damage, I’m going to tell you a few things about the movie.
There are some plot holes.
The plotline is pretty depressing for most of the movie.
Sometimes, it’s awkward sitting in a quiet movie theatre.
Coughs from fellow movie-goers are louder due to the lack of dialogue. If you can’t read, you’re going to be very lost.
If you don’t like dogs, you’ll hate the adorable sidekick.
The 1920s costumes are so cute that you’ll hate our current fashion.
And the French actress who plays Peppy, Bérénice Bejo, is far too pretty to exist in real life.
But, as Mitchell writes at the end of the article, “There’s no joy without peril.” So, I’d say, why not see it? You might just like it. Or not. Maybe you’ll hate it. But maybe you’ll love it.
Give it a try. The Artist just might defy your expectations…if I haven’t built them up too high, that is.
Read David Mitchell’s column here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/feb/26/david-mitchell-column-sky-gyngell