Mesmerising

We are forced into a prison as he is, only seeing the world from his one functioning retina.

Schnabel knowingly creates an unswerving complicity by not allowing us outside the mangled man until well into the film, and by the time he catches a distorted glimpse of himself in a corridor surface we are already in love with his unimpaired thoughts – his lusts, his lyricism, his rage – revealed in snappy voice-overed monologue.

Bauby churns through the narrative with a host of females: Henriette (Marie-Josée Croze), his speech therapist who develops a painful but amazing method of communication-through-blinking; Marie (Olatz Lopez Garamendia), his physical therapist; Céline (Emmanuelle Seigner), his staunch ex-wife; Inés (Agathe de la Fontaine), the absent love of his life; and finally Claude (Anne Consigny), who transcribes his autobiography from each insistent blink. Their respective beauty is notable only because his futile and unredeemable lust for these women is so tangible it becomes a kind of character in itself, leering up skirts and glancing at cleavage.

The film’s only weak point is veering into over-sentimental territory on rare occasions – with aching piano strains and nostalgic photography – but mostly Schnabel steers clear of the schmaltz and allows impressive performances from all involved (including Max Von Sydow as one half of the most wonderfully crafted paternal relationship since Tony and A.J.) to carry themselves.

Having already taken Best Director and Best Cinematography at Cannes, Best Director and Best Foreign Film at the Golden Globes expect Diving Bell to sweep up at the rest of the awards season. Go see it, quick. And appreciate that you can