Tools of Characterization
Characterization in The Artist
Names
Peppy's an unusual name, even for the quirky 20s. But it suits Peppy Miller, who is full of life, vim, vigour, and pizazz. Also, it has the same number of syllables as the names of popular 1920s film stars Greta Garbo, Mary Pickford, Constance Talmadge and Pola Negri.
We know George Valentin's character was modeled on real-life movie star Douglas Fairbanks, but his name also reveals a link to silent film star Rudolph Valentino, an Italian-born sex symbol of the 20s often referred to as the "Latin Lover" or the "Sheik."
Like Valentino, who was often cast in the role of the "exotic other" (i.e. Anyone Not White), George is also harboring the big, bad secret of his non-American-ness.
Ah, xenophobia.
At the end of The Artist, we find out that George has been anxious to speak this whole time because of his heavy French accent. Hearing his voice at the end of the movie suddenly throws a whole new dimension into his character. We realize his stubbornness is in part a tactic for self-protection.
Clothing
The 1920s were amazing for fashion, and some of the characters' outfits are truly the bee's knees (that's 1920s-speak for awesome). Just check out Peppy's coat, which is trimmed in monkey fur (and which Hazanavicius called "King Kong"). Costume designer Mark Bridges (who worked on other period pieces like Boogie Nights and There Will Be Blood) says he "watched as many silent films" as he could when researching for the film. (Source)
The saying "the clothes make the man" also applies to The Artist. At the beginning of the movie George practically lives in his tuxedo, except for when it hangs in his dressing room and Peppy playfully slips her arm into it and around herself, make-believing that it is George embracing her.
When George falls out of work, he starts wearing simple pants and shorter ties. Eventually he sells his tux at the pawnshop—he's got no use for it anymore. Near the end of the film he sees a similar tux hanging in a shop window and, lining up his reflection with the suit, imagines he's wearing it. The tux represents the pinnacle of fame, fortune and fantasy for George, and reminds him of an earlier version of himself.
Peppy's journey can also be read through her clothes. In one of her early films she plays a chorus girl. Dressed just like the others, she doesn't yet stand out. As she gets more famous, she starts wearing more glittery, fancier garments.
In her dressing room, now a big star, one of Peppy's many assistants slips a sparkly shoe on her foot—it's a classic Cinderella moment. The camera cuts from Peppy's "glass slipper" to George's simple shoes, where he sits idly at home.
Mark Bridges confirms: "It is always my intention when designing costumes to quietly illustrate what is happening in the story through the character of the clothes." (Source)
Social Status
As we see from Peppy's Cinderella story, clothes and social status are totally intertwined in The Artist. The glamorous movie biz is a high-stakes, high-status world, and as Peppy gets more famous she moves into an enormous house, complete with butlers and maids, has dozens of assistants helping her get dressed and fawning over her, and trails fans behind her everywhere she goes ("Toys!" she calls the two handsome boys who follow her around).
All the things Peppy acquires, George has to give up once he's no longer a big star. He moves from his mansion to a small apartment, he stops wearing nice clothes, and he even fires Clifton (only to have Peppy hire him on as her chauffeur) and ends up walking around town instead of getting driven.
Whereas George's wife Penelope seems like old money (she keeps the house when she and George split), Zimmer's lady friend Constance has the air of a gold digger—she's not really all that into Zimmer and seems to be using him to climb the ladder of fame.
Props
In keeping with the silent film genre, where exaggerated acting is the norm and objects and clothing are like extensions of characters, props in The Artist do a lot of things.
The sound of a glass hitting a table alerts us that something's off for George, whereas other props, like George Zimmer's cigar, symbolize his power and wealth. Zimmer's cigar (and the cloud of smoke that engulfs him) acts like a wand of control or authority, such as when he's introducing George to talkies in the dark of the projection room and the ominous smoke is especially visible against the projector lights.
Props—like the film reel that George clutches nostalgically in the fire; Peppy's signature beauty mark, which sets her apart from the others; and the gun that George keeps above his fridge and that suggests his darker side—act like extensions of the characters who use them.