In war-torn France, an elderly sculptor (Jean Rochefort) struggles to find inspiration at the end of his life. Might the pretty stray wench (Aida Folch), a refuge from Franco's regime whom his wife (Claudia Cardinale) finds at the town fountain, do the trick? Will the new model's slight, ill-defined role "walking" for the Resistance bring trouble and strife to an artist who keeps telling us: "I have a sculpture to finish, with or without the war"? Will she shake him out of his complacency?
Hell no. There's no danger of any drama breaking out here, much less any chance of war. A film for folks who don't really like films, The Artist and the Model is a big, pretty nothing that trades in rustic period clichés and dubious sexual politics. Comely peasant on bicycle? Check. A gaggle of naughty, rosy-cheeked ragamuffins? Check. Frock-coated priest? Check.
Judging by the gorgeous monochrome tableaux and folksy period details, we’re supposed to think it’s classy. And to be fair, we’re almost hoodwinked by the titanic presences of Rochefort and Cardinale and by Daniel Vilar’s lush cinematic compositions.
The constant, oppressively male gaze, however, doubles as a cattle prod. We know from Chico and Rita that director Fernando Trueba is capable of celebrating the female form without page-three-grade objectification. Sadly, here the film-maker has chosen to hark back to the unreconstructed sexist whimsy of his Oscar-winning confection Belle Epoque.
The "tastefulness" of the shots in which Folch sits naked, swims naked, sleeps naked, stands around naked, provide the unkindest sting of all. At least porn usually knows it's mucky. And you thought Claudia was being accommodating at the end of Once Upon a Time in the West.
If the corners of Ways of Seeing were sharp enough, we might have slashed the cinema seats. Instead, we're left to grapple with two related notions. How on earth did this Stella Artois commercial make it into cinemas? And when is the beer coming anyway? Oh, never. Right. Why are we watching this, then?
