The Artist is a linear film that is clearly divided; it is a film in which hardly a word is spoken and yet it is a film that has a lot to say to its audience.  It takes a while to adjust to the dialogue of expressions, captions and music, but once an awareness of the absence of expected banter has exited stage left, the story and the characters progress and develop at a spritely pace which befits the backdrop of the late 1920s Art Deco Hollywood Land with its stars, starlets and the bustling romance of the early movie industry.  The Artist is George Valentin,  a wide smiling leading man of the silent movie era, acclaimed and adored who laughs at and dismisses the new wave of ‘talkies’  which leads rapidly to his decline and destitution. Unlike Peppy Miller, a young, ambitious woman whose fame ascends as Valentin’s descends, most aptly illustrated through sets and a story that is age-old and highly symbolic. It is not by chance that Valentin first experiences someone talking in a film in a screen test for the play ‘Romeo and Juliet’ which infamously features ‘two households, both alike in dignity’ and ‘a pair of star-crossed lovers’. This is the crux of the film, and the two households are ‘silence’ and ‘speech’ and the two lovers are 'Valentin' and 'Miller', and the story moves from one of light-hearted frivolity to heart break and tragedy. Valentin views Miller as representing the new and the young who seek to usurp him and at one point possess him, whereas Miller reveres Valentin for the foundations that he has built and the insight that he provides as when he advises her to have something that sets her apart such as a beauty spot, which is in fact the making of her as a film star. Valentin does not consider evolution of art as an inevitable process, let alone a positive process, but this film evidences that what is great one moment is dismissed the next. The French Director, Michel Hazanavicius, illustrates this most hilariously to his home audience by featuring Napoleon requesting a chair and being told that he is no more than an ‘extra’, a mere addendum. Valentin is played to perfection by Jean Dujardin, who is subtle with a genre that could have so easily been overacted, as evidenced by how John Goodwin struggles to not ham his character, a struggle which at times he loses.  What ultimately unites the two households and brings the star crossed lovers to each other is what initially attracted them to each other when a physical barrier was in between them and where they fell in love during a series of ‘takes’. This is a language that speaks to us all and one that features in many films which share the same theme and speaks to the wider world as a whole, that of music and dance.  Is this worthy of the Oscar it is most likely to win? Or is this film a frothy novelty whose concept is quirky enough in a year of unremarkable film making? It is a novelty film but once you get past the froth it is a relevant subject that is astutely executed and deserves to be watched but most importantly understood by young and old alike.

The Iron Lady is a film with a singular subject, Margaret Thatcher, the first and only female Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, as well as the longest serving one. It is the personal and political life of a woman who did not separate the two, of a woman who had a clear philosophy and of a woman who was loved and hated in equal measures.  The progression of Thatcher’s life is told through a series of flashbacks she experiences as an older woman, who now in her mid-80s has started to experience episodes of dementia and hallucinations of her late husband Denis who the audience also see and hear.  Director Phylidda Lloyd interweaves between eras at a balanced pace, the flash backs focus more on Thatcher’s early adult years and her more successful years in power, little time is given to the years in between 1959 and 1979 which would have provided a useful backdrop to the character of Denis, and the changes he made to accommodate for the career of his wife.  Whilst the film dabbles with far too many camera angles and symbolic imaginary, it delivers well when encapsulating what Margaret Thatcher advocated as an approach to life, that of ‘thinking and doing’ as opposed to her portrayed perspective of the modern way of ‘feeling and being’. The Iron Lady is portrayed as one who knows the value of the basics in life and how determined she is to maintain those basics, whether it be as a young girl saving the butter in the family grocery or many years later as the Prime Minister quizzing her cabinet on the price of butter, or commenting on the price of milk. The film illustrates well how power changes people, and that those who stand up to bullies can indeed become the bully themselves, and it is this that is ultimately the downfall of Thatcher, but not necessarily of Thatcherism.  At least half of the film features Margaret as an older woman, fragile, slightly senile yet lucid and insightful. The role of Thatcher as a middle-aged and older lady is acted by Meryl Streep, whose performance is outstanding, most especially when portraying the vulnerable Margaret whose presence juxtaposes so ironically with the title of the film. Streep becomes an older person, her stance, her walk, her eyes, she is quite simply superb. The surrounding players are solid in their characters, though Carol Thatcher was more like Helen Lederer from Absolutely Fabulous, so Sloan Road rolled was her speech impediment.  I enjoyed the film, though it has not received any notable acclaim except for the performance by Streep.  It is an interesting perspective, many would argue a sympathetic perspective of a woman who is not yet gone and who will undoubtedly never be forgotten, nor by many, forgiven.