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
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