Review- The Artist (Directed by Michel Hazanavicius)

The modern ardent cinema-goer has every right to feel a little jaded in these current times of film with the multiplexes full of cheap knock off sequels and remakes and with 3D being trumpeted as the shiny new saviour when really it needs to be quiet and stop being overused. Even the independent market (in the UK at least) is in danger of becoming morbidly more mainstream if dynamic David Cameron gets his way (perhaps he is a distant relative of James if you look at his film sensibilities?). So in these uninspiring doldrums time we need a film to make us fall in love with cinema all over again. Step forward The Artist.

The Artist is the little French film that could, written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius, it was produced with a modest budget and featured both French and American cast and crew members. When it arrived at the Cannes film festival in May 2011, the film was initially an out of competition entry but was moved to the competition a week before the festival opened and its leading man Jean Dujardin went on to win the best actor award. This came to the attention of the Weinsteins who snapped up the distribution rights and catapulted The Artist to wider audiences and universal critical acclaim.

The film starts in 1927 and George Valentin is the biggest star of the silent movie scene (accompanied by his four legged on screen sidekick Uggie the Jack Russell), he oozes charm and has a flair for comedic timing, a combination of Valentino mixed with Buster Keaton. When Valentin is posing for the press at his latest premiere, budding starlet Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) by way of accident, ends up being photographed with her matinee idol, much to the delight of the press who run with headlines asking 'Who's that girl?' Valentin, becoming a kind of mentor, helps the young actress get a part in one of his films and from there on, she begins to get more roles, her star rising each time she appears. Two years later and the advent of sound heralds a new beginning in the age of cinema, one which Valentin dismisses, even when the head of the Studio Al Zimmer (John Goodman) announces that they will no longer be producing silent films and the actor decides to go it alone, financing his own film. But Valentin's star has faded, his film is poorly received and with the stock market's great crash of 1929, he is bankrupt. In contrast Peppy Miller becomes the biggest new star of the talkies, the It pin up girl and the face of a thousand posters, she represents the star that Valentin once was but also in a way that he could never be.

For a film that is bringing feel-good back to audiences, there is much to The Artist that is bittersweet, highlighting the downward spiral many silent stars faced at the hands of the talkies, the cruel fate that stardom can take in a blink of an eye, thematically it could be a companion piece to A Star is born (1954). However it is the fresh nature and the lightness of touch that director Michel Hazanavicius brings to the material that makes the film so joyous, his love for the early silent period of cinema is evident in the detailed construction of the square framing of scenes and the old fashioned effects utilised such as jump cuts and the use of irises.

The Artist feels like a film from a bygone era yet brings something new to modern day film-making, it has an infectious cross-over potential to reach new audiences that may have previously shuddered at the thought of watching a black and white silent movie. French actor Jean Dujardin gives an irresistible performance as George Valentin, he emotes every expression with charisma, comic timing but also moments of brooding sadness and hidden depths, bringing old style acting back into the frame that doesn't feel out dated but refreshingly real, using every scene to his acting potential. Berenice Bejo meanwhile lights up the screen with fizzy enchantment, a cute as a button enthusiastic actress but one with her heart in the right place. Special mention should also go to Uggie the dog who provides comic foil and moments of pure canine glee. The score that is used throughout is bold, beautiful and entrancing, lifting the film when it needs to be light and pulling the emotional heartstrings when it needs to (Just don't mention the use of the Vertigo score to Kim Novak).

This is a film for film buffs, who will revel in the passion that is portrayed for the birth and illusion of cinema but it also is a film that could and should push over to the mainstream, Yes it is a tough sell for many and it may suffer an inevitable backlash by some in time for the Oscars (though the Weinsteins still hold a lot of clout in this area), but The Artist is the most purely enjoyable, smile on your face, tapping your feet experience you will have at the cinema this year. If given the chance, It will work its way into your heart and fill you with the magic of the silver screen, one that is impossible to resist.

Review- The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (David Fincher)

David Fincher's choice of next movie after The Social Network seemed a decision at odds with a director of his standing- to remake The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo so soon after the Swedish language original based on Stieg Larsson's bestselling book. It is a decision usually left to lazy studio executives trying to capitalise on the recent success of a foreign film hit. But this is not Fincher's style and by the slight differences in the screenplay's text than those of the previous film, it is better then to think that there is more than one way to remake a novel than to to think there is more than one way to remake a film.

Having personally no prior conceptions towards The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I have not read the book and as yet have not seen the Swedish version, the only knowledge I had it was the faint grasp of the plot and the notion that Noomi Rapace's female lead performance was and is the definitive version of the character Lisbeth Salander. So my eyes were very much open to interpretation from Fincher to cast his own inimitable take on the text.

The film opens with assault on the senses bravado, perhaps the first blow to the naysayers against a second, American adaptation of the novel, with a mash up of music video aesthetics (akin to the work of Chris Cunningham) and James Bond style credits, albeit one for the spiky, jilted generation set to a Gothic punk version of Led Zeppelin's 'immigrant song'. We are then introduced to Media disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig, who appears to lose his Swedish twang after his first sentence uttered), his recent loss in libel trail against crooked business man Hans-Erik Wennerstrom becoming the catalyst for his summons to the Vanger estate to meet elderly patriarch Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer on subtle stellar form). Blomkvist is assigned to investigate the 40 year old mystery of the disappearence of his niece Harriet, an unsolved crime whose conclusion has eluded Henrik and which encompasses a labyrinthine family tree, rooted in mistrust and suspicion, as he tells Blomkvist 'You will be investigating thieves, misers, bullies--the most detestable collection of people that you will ever meet: my family.' Blomkvist takes the job under the rouse that he is writing Henrik's memoirs and on the promise that he will provide not only money but more importantly damning information on Wennerstrom, who is a former employee of Henrik.

The girl's path meanwhile, takes its time in aligning with Blomkvist's journalist and must first traverse the murky waters of her being a ward of the state due to being diagnosed as mentally incompetent, the restraints of her probation and her subsequent dealings in the world of computer hacking. These are all fully realised in a graphically harrowing encounter with her new legal guardian lawyer who betrays his position of trust with brutal consequences. The revenge for the violent act establishes Rooney Mara's Lisbeth may appear slight in frame, but still packs a gritty tenacious punch, her porcelain face (beneath the piercings) is in discord with her determined demeanor. The role of Lisbeth Salander is an iconic, strong character, one that is rare for actresses in Hollywood and Mara takes the opportunity bull by both horns and runs with it to make a formidable impression.

When Lisbeth joins the Vanger mystery as Blomkvists 'research assistant' it is a partnership that quickly works, Blomkvist controlled but thorough, Lisbeth flirting round the edges of anarchy that brings results, and so the unravelling of Harriet's disappearance comes closer and closer to its sinister conclusion. With a multi-thread plot to cover, it would be easy for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo to become overlong and slow in pace but Fincher manages to make the film detailed yet punchy creating a growing, pounding sense of dark doom. His is a master auteur with twisted shadowy text, an artist of effective morose visual flair who perhaps doesn't get the recognition of how at the top of his game he is (this accolade seems to be reserved to Christopher Nolan of late). Like the sorely underrated Zodiac (2007), Fincher also shows he has a fluidity to crime centric narratives, building clue solving investigation into a tense thriller, making the wise decision to keep the Swedish setting whose snow capped landscape lends another dimension to the icy proceedings and the buried secrets of the story. If there is one misstep, it is that the pacy structure gives in to a hurried final twenty minutes that swiftly tie up all the loose ends and the last shot of the film is something of an anti climatic damp squib.

But small grumble aside The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is compelling agile thriller, Fincher takes us on a journey to the dark side, one of a sordid nature but one that we cant help but follow him on. It is bleak but hypnotic film making and shows that Fincher didn't waste his time on reworking the Swedish version. All that and he also manages to make the music of Enya surprisingly scary.