"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Micmacs (2009, R)

I love Jean-Pierre Jeunet movies.  They’re fun and weird, bursting with color and character, and they often have the feel of having been made expressly for me.  Micmacs was the first Jeunet film I saw on the big screen, and it was an utter delight.

The arms industry hasn’t been kind to Bazil.  When he was a child, his father was killed overseas by a landmine, and as an adult, he’s hit by a stray bullet in a freak accident.  Left with no job, no home, and the bullet lodged inoperably close to his brain, he’s taken in by a band of junkyard-dwelling eccentrics.  At first, Bazil is content in their off-the-beaten-path life, but a chance encounters leads to his discovery of two companies:  the one that made his father’s landmine, and the one that made his bullet.    He enlists his new friends to help him take creative revenge on these two very destructive forces in his life.

I’m in love with the characters, a real Island of Misfit Toys bunch who’ve found each other.  My personal favorites are the former ethnographer, who speaks almost compulsively in aphorisms and figures of speech, and the scrapheap artist, who invents whimsical mechanic curiosities out of discarded fragments.  There’s also the sensitive contortionist, the daredevil world-record chaser, the human calculator, the ex-con who survived the guillotine, and the affectionate mother to all of them, regardless of their assorted ages.  And Bazil is just terrific.  Like a lot of Jeunet protagonists, he’s not defined by what he does (he used to work in a video store,) but how he is; he’s an incurable clown with heaps of ingenuity and a charming collection of fun routines.  He feels a bit like a silent comedy character dropped into the real world (well, realish – this is still Jeunet,) and it’s neat to see this peculiar jester taking on the big evil corporations.

Speaking of which, anyone who’s seen Amélie will know Jeunet’s talent for fanciful revenge, which comes together superbly here.  In their quest to get back at the slimy arms dealers, Bazil and his comrades display shrewd observance, clever problem-solving, and offbeat creativity.  Everyone gets in on the action, putting their unique skillsets to use (from human-cannonball maneuvers to hiding in suitcases.)  As with Amélie, the retribution is brilliant largely because of how small it is.  Instead of one big plot, they set a plethora of tiny wheels in motion.  Some of them are only seemingly-small acts, insignificant to anyone else but infuriating to the arms dealer in question.  Others are nothing on their own, but they accumulate and build to a swarm.  Still others are little catalysts that spark bigger events.  Most of all, they serve the purpose of getting their opponent to do much of the work for them, dissolving into paranoia and aggravation and ultimately causing larger problems for himself than the gang does.  Their crowning achievement at the end of the film is just stupendous – no words for how ingeniously they pull this off.

The design and detail is Jeunet at his best.  The junkyard hideout looks amazing, and all of Tiny Pete’s cobbled-together inventions are enchanting.  I love the little detours of non-plot-related oddball charm, the dialogue sparkles with humor, and the story is winningly crafted.  Just a stellar film all around.

Warnings

Swearing, a little smoking/drinking, brief sexual content, a little violence, and thematic elements.

No comments:

Post a Comment