THE ARTIST (PG)

★★★

NOT many people in their right mind would think it was a good idea to make a film in 2011 that was a black and white, silent picture, and expect anyone to actually pay to go and see it.

But that's exactly what Michel Hazanavicius has done with The Artist and it was a stroke of genius.

In a recent interview he explained his reasons for wanting to even attempt such a project.

He said: "Right at the beginning, seven or eight years ago, I fantasised about making a silent film, probably because the great mythical directors I admire most all come from silent cinema — Hitchcock, Lang, Ford, Lubitsch, Murnau, Billy Wilder (as screenwriter) — but mainly because as a director it makes you face your responsibilities, it makes you tell the story in a very special way.

"It's not up to the screenwriter, nor to the actors to tell the story — it really is up to the director.

"In this genre everything is in the image, in the organisation of the signals you're sending to the audience.

"And it's an emotional cinema, it's sensorial; the fact that you don't go through a text brings you back to a basic way of telling a story that only works on the feelings you have created.

"It's a fascinating way to work. I thought it would be a magnificent challenge and that if I could manage it, it would be very rewarding.

"If I said it was a fantasy more than a desire, it's because each time I mentioned it I'd only get an amused reaction — no one took this seriously."

But now they certainly are.

Already the winner of three Golden Globes this year for best comedy, best actor and best score, this film is widely tipped to pick up an Oscar or two in April and has proved to be one of the most original, funny and clever films of the year.

Shot entirely in black and white, with a soundtrack that will make your heart soar — and replaces the spoken word so powerfully that it's the equivalent of having a narrator in the film — like Scorsese's Hugo, this film is a loving tribute to the great film makers who have gone before... a chance for audiences to remember why they fell in love with movies in the first place, and an opportunity to see the power of a look, a tear, a gesture, without needing to smother it in CGI or 3D for it to make an impact.

It sounds simple, but this film has been beautifully directed to look that way, and behind its simplicity are layers of clever tricks, talented actors, beautiful cinematography, and the cutest dog you have ever seen on the big screen.

All crafted to make you smile and remind you that cinema at its best is a joy to behold.

The story is one we have all seen before, borrowing heavily from A Star is Born and Singing in the Rain.

We are in Hollywood, 1927.

Silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is at the top of his game, loved and revered by all.

A chance meeting with wanabee starlet Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) marks the beginning of the end, as her career spirals and his starts to flounder.

With the advent of talkies, Valentin refuses to speak on screen, is unable to change with the times, and sees the industry motor forward without him, while young Peppy flourishes as she embraces the new technology.

Dujardin is simply brilliant in the role with flavours of Errol Flynn and John Gilbert thrown in for good measure.

The chemistry between the two leads has to be spot on in a movie with no words and the two light up the screen like a roaring fire on a cold night.

Using two unknown actors was a stroke of genius — this would not have worked with faces that we know too well, but actually, the two leads have worked together before, and with Hazanavicius, on a French series of espionage spoofs 'OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies' and 'OSS 117: Lost in Rio'.

So comedy is their thing and they are used to working together, and it shows.

What struck me is how, when creating a film that is a homage to the golden age of cinema, it is easy to see how far the medium has come since its heyday, even though the style of this film is so similar to that of the 1920s.

While staying to true to the values of its roots, it displays the result of further years of well honed skill and a craft that has been studied and mastered to a far greater degree than those that went before had chance to learn.

Acting for one thing — remember the big facial expressions and grand gestures — over acting to be precise, of the early silent movies?

Here, the genre is the same but the acting is oh so more subtle — use of close ups means that not everything has to be so big — a raise of an eyebrow, a quiver of a lip is all it takes to convey an emotion, and there is a purity to this film which makes you yearn for the days when this clarity was prevalent and not camouflaged with special effects and overwrought with words.

Perhaps the most obvious reminder that this is a modern film is the sudden use of sound during Valentin's downfall — a nightmare sequence where everyone around him is making noise — the chorus girls are laughing at him, a palm tree rustles in the wind, a glass tinkles on the table, a dog barks, yet try as he might to speak, he can utter no sound.

It's a brilliant use of modern film technique to comment on the old, and jars us to our senses, just as Valentin's world is jarred by the onset of sound.

Filmed in Hollywood, as it had to be, shot in the classic 4:3 aspect ratio (no big widescreen here), on the back lots of Warner Bros and Paramount, the film took just 35 days to shoot and cost less than $20million to make.

It was money well spent and will reap massive rewards in return.

For us, the viewer, it will leave us wishing they still made films like this today.

Thankfully… they just did!