THE COMIC: less funny ha-ha and more disappointing ego trip

I'm totally willing to accept that THE COMIC is based loosely on a true life story (that of Buster Keaton) but that doesn't mean I find any of it remotely believable.
There's two reasons for that.
One is Dick van Dyke's utterly feeble attempt to portray his character as an old man.
The other is the hairstyles.
This 1969 film is set in the Hollywood of the 1920s yet no one sports a haircut appropriate to the era. Everyone is wearing their hair late 60s style - long and shaggy. Maybe the production budget didn't stretch to a barber but the end result is it looks sloppy. It also detracts from the authenticity of the setting.
But that's a small complaint compared with van Dyke's totally unconvincing performance in the second half of the film. His character, Billy Bright, is not exactly a spring chicken when we first encounter him in early 1920s Los Angeles. Let's be charitable and say he's in his early 30s. That would mean he's in his mid 70s in the scenes set in the present day when he's reminiscing about his life and times as one of the silent cinema's biggest comedians. But even if he'd pursued every faddy diet promoted by his contemporary, Gloria Swanson, he would not look as (comparatively) young and fresh-faced as he does.
The only concession van Dyke makes to the aging process is to don a wig of thinning hair. Otherwise the 74 year old Billy Bright looks exactly like 45 year old Dick van Dyke. This refusal to make anything more than a token token effort at growing old further undermines the story's credibility.
Given that THE COMIC was a labor of love by writer-director Carl Reiner, created as a vehicle for van Dyke to indulge his passion for the great comedians of the silent era, it's surprising and disappointing that so little attention was paid to the important details. If they thought he could carry the film by force of personality alone they were wrong. What's intended as a searing critique of a talent overwhelmed by ego turns out to be an object lesson in how ego can smother a good idea.

THE ARTIST: just give this film every award going and be done with it

THE ARTIST, in the humble opinion of this lifelong viewer and reviewer of films from all decades and countries, is the most faithful recreation of old Hollywood ever. And yes, I'm including 'Singing in the Rain' in that pool of contenders.

THE ARTIST is not a pastiche or a tribute to the great silent movies of the 1920s. It is a 1920s-era silent movie. The attention to detail is just incredible, from the exact shades of black and white in each frame to the gestures and facial expressions of the characters you'll believe this is a newly rediscovered 85 year old film that has somehow survived in pristine condition in the vaults of one of the older Hollywood studios.
The film has deservedly been cleaning up at award shows and is tipped to win big at the Oscars later this month. Jean Dujardin as silent star George Valentin gives what I confidently predict is a career-best performance - and that's without having seen anything else he's done, and taking into account anything he may do in the future. This guy channels Douglas Fairbanks Sr with the gusto and confidence of someone who's dedicated their entire life to researching every aspect of cinema's first action hero.
The story borrows liberally from the various versions of 'A Star is Born' but never steals as it charts the decline of Valentin with the coming of sound and the rise of Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), a star struck fan whose chance encounter with Valentin at a movie premiere launches her on the path to fame and fortune as a star in her own right. Bejo's performance is similarly pitch perfect; my only reservation is that she doesn't have the face of a late 20s Hollywood actress. Bejo's an attractive woman but her looks belong to those international jet set movies of the 1960s when actors of all nationalities and accents rubbed shoulders in big budget productions set in exotic locales across the globe.
I've hesitated to mention that THE ARTIST is also a silent film because of the modern day prejudice associated with that word. How can a film where no one speaks be worth an investment of your precious time? "If no one talks how will I know what's going on?" I hear you complain, "And do you really expect me to watch a silent black and white film?" (I can feel the moisture from the contempt dripping from those last five words).
I'll resist the urge to launch into a diatribe about how such an ignorant attitude is shameful, and simply say that you will forget that this is silent film within the first two minutes. Firstly, it's not entirely silent - there's music and sound effects - but more importantly the story is so engaging and so beautifully told that you just won't care that no sound actually emits from the characters mouths.
Director Michael Hazanavicius has created an instant classic - a film that will enchant and entrance and leave you with that warm glow of intense satisfaction so seldom experienced when watching mainstream movies these days.