A marvelous mustachioed Clark Gable look-alike hero, a sylph-like heroine, a gangster-like cigar smoking studio executive, a loyal henchman/chauffeur/man of all work/substitute dinner companion, and finally, the adorable, loyal Snowy-like hyper intelligent dog. These are the indelible characters in Michael Hazanavicius's The Artist a silent, glossy, black and white tribute to the golden age of Hollywood when being eloquent was everything, and each frame was meticulously constructed to provide maximum meaning.

Yes, the film is silent. And no, it is the opposite of boring. The great French film-maker Robert Bresson insisted that "a sound must never come to the help of an image, nor an image to the help of the sound". In today's world of Hollywood and Bollywood big-budget cinema this is almost unthinkable. "What, there's no talking?", and "Oh no! We have to read sub-titles?". Well, yes. Why shouldn't we take the time to watch a throw back from the grand-old age of cinema and learn to retrain our eyes to see the meaning in gorgeous, black and white (yes, without colour) images?

A case in point, when George Valentin (played by the suave Jean Dujardin) � a famous silent movie star rejects the advent of the "talkies", he finds himself without a job. On his way out from seeing the mafioso-like studio head Al Zimmer (the formidable John Goodman), he bumps into the newest ingenue Peppy Miller (played by the unaffected Berenice Bejo) who is on her way in. Peppy's star is rising as Valentin's wanes. All of this is beautifully portrayed in a single wide shot of the studio stairs. The young and innovative are running up and down. In the center, perfectly symmetrical, Valentin stands on a lower step wearing a grey suit, Peppy stands just above him in a dazzling white dress. They talk, Peppy is in love with Valentin and she is newly confident in her success. Valentin finally walks away downwards from Peppy, charmed, but chagrined at their timing. As he goes down the stairs he becomes one of a few indistinguishable grey, suited figures.

Everything that is to come is presaged in this sophisticated, beautifully choreographed scene. There are many more like it. The Artist is made with so much care and loving detail that it bears a few viewings. It has something for everyone. Music, dancing, star-crossed lovers, charming side-kicks, wit, and a valiant animal friend. Very occasionally it falls into the trap of maudlin melodrama, (yes, there is a lot of orchestral music). But this does seem a little inevitable when trying to emote high drama while not speaking.

Not that the Academy Awards is the greatest judge of cinema, still it would be interesting to see if a silent Dujardin can knock the socks off of the likes of George Clooney and Brad Pitt to win an Oscar this February. Even more terrific would be to see a silent film win Best Picture in the year of 2012. I'd be watching if I were you.

All movies reviewed in this column are available in the writer's favourite DVD store: Music and Expression, Thamel, 01-4700092