The Artist

Director: Michel Hazanavicius
Starring: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo

SOMETIMES all you can say is they don’t make ‘em like they used to – and The Artist proves that.
Superlatives have been thrown at this film with many tipping it for Oscars, others claiming that it is the greatest movie ever made.
Both those statements are a little premature but there’s no denying that Michel Hazanavicius’s is a tour de force but I will try not to harp on about how great it is rather than just describe it.
The film is a riches-to-rags tale about silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) who refuses to adapt to the new technology of sound.
Opening with his latest film being screened to acclaimed response and rapturous applause, Valentin is a man who appears like a caricature of the era – handsome features, slick back hair and pencil moustache.
He is at the top of his game, he can command anything in Hollywood and no one can turn him down. He has fame, friends, a career and an adorable and loyal companion in his dog, Uggie, (seriously, just watch it for the dog). The only thing that’s wrong is the loveless marriage he is stuck in.
Aspiring actress Peppy Miller, played by the Argentinian wife of Hazanavicius, Bérénice Bejo, bumps into him and steals the show during a chance encounter outside the premier of his film, they meet again on set the next day where he gets her a part in his next film.
It is obvious the two are in love but the scrupulous Valentin is not going to let this fidelity get in the way of his marriage, no matter how terrible it is.
Inevitably the technology of sound comes along and changes everything and Valentin, a man who believes the innovation to be a fad becomes redundant while Miller, a woman who realises that people want to hear her, becomes a star.
When our two protagonists meet later on the stairs, she on the way up, he on the way down, we know exactly what it means and what will happen: she will be the most sought-after woman in town, he will plumb the depths of despair.
Knowing what is going to happen could turn people off, but Hazanavicius keeps us enchanted. Both he and Dujardin and Bejo know that less is more. The actors only have to raise an eyebrow, cast a glance, just move one muscle on their faces and the audience understands their thoughts. And Hazanavicius just has to angle the camera like so and that scene, that picture, tells a thousand words.
There are other scenes which linger in the mind – the climax is heart-clutching and edge-of-your-seat stuff, and another when Valentin sees his head reflected in a shop window over the top of a dinner jacket brings you to despair.
A refreshing take on an old tale, it is unmissable and Hazanavicius has made the glamour of Hollywood never look better and made today’s effects-laden films look superfluous. It is effortlessly warm and tender and despite harking from another age, its innovation could change the landscape of movies for the next few years.