Micmacs à tire-larigot

Jean-Paul Jeunet, director of "Amélie" and "A Very Long Engagement" returns with "Micmacs", the story of a lonely misfit named Bazil (Dany Boon), who after being accidentally injured in a shoot-out, is adopted by a band of other misfits. Together, they take on a band of arms-manufacturers whose products respectively injured Bazil and killed Bazil's father, by triggering tension between them.

As with previous films, Jeunet has produced a world of slightly-distorted reality, much like a dream. Although it does begin somewhat slowly, this is hardly a flaw, and the eventual escalation of the tension between the two forces of evil is truly winning. The ending, which I won't elaborate upon, is also delightfully funny.

There is one slight issue that I did have, which is not too big and actually has little to do with the film itself, but is still worthy of mention. As someone with a degree in French, I did find that the English subtitles were in some scenes passable yet not excellent replications of the original. Equally, I found it quite annoying that the subtitles provided in the British cinema version were clearly done for American audiences. I have nothing against American English, but it would have been nice for us over here in the UK to have had our own subtitles as opposed to a loan of the American ones. Yet enough with that groaning; "Micmacs" is a great near-perfect little film and I can recommend it wholeheartedly.

By the director of Delicatessen and Amelie, this is closer to the earlier one. It's that mad jumble of images and daring camera-work again. And again it turns out to be a film quite unlike the one you were expecting. I'm sure someone has said this somewhere already, but it's worth repeating. I'm talking about Fellini on acid.

After an electrifying prologue in which our hero is orphaned, the screen explodes into a big-budget retro Hollywood opening and the story begins.

Almost right away our man Bazil, played by star of the French screen Danny Boon, is wounded by a stray bullet, losing his job after a long spell in hospital. He's saved from oblivion by a family of freaky misfits who live underground, surviving by rescuing the junk society throws out and giving it new life.

What Bazil really wants is to get his own back on the two arms manufacturers who messed up his life, and his new friends are the perfect mates for carrying out such a scheme. They include a human cannonball, a numbers genius, a circus contortionist and a robot inventor, and their plots are just as wacky as they are.

Talking of plots, the story, packed though it is with fantastic imagery as if it were a story about bad adults written by very clever children, races along regardless. The scene where Bazil gets shot is itself so much more than a simple zap with a bullet. It's a short film in itself, and the whole thing is full of chunks like that. It really is too much to eat at one sitting, and I would recommend a second look. You'll probably see me there, in the front row, my jaw in my lap.

For this review I'll assume you've seen Amélie which, if you haven't, you should see this instant before even finishing this sentence.

Ok you're still here (or you're back). As we saw in Amélie, director Jean-Pierre Jeunet gave us a visual feast displaying his original quirky style that can best be described as "cinematic OCD". Everything about a particular shot is meticulously designed: lighting, camera angles & movements, settings, props, action, dialogue and even music are carefully choreographed down to the most microscopic detail, prompting you to wonder if, in a parallel universe, Jeunet would be one of those guys you read about in the Guinness Book for having collected the toenail clippings of 5 generations of Kennedys. This style lends itself to great comedy, almost like a Rube Goldberg drawing that depicts some fantastic, enormous mechanical device whose purpose is to dispense toilet paper. We immediately smirk at the fact that someone purposely went to all this trouble to deliver something totally absurd. In "Amélie" (and in his 2 prior masterpieces "Delicatessen" and my favorite "City of Lost Children") Jeunet mixed this wacky, absurdist style with a really compelling, human story that was fleshed out with great character moments to contrast the absurdity. However, here in "Micmacs" the balance is tipped very heavily toward the absurd but without the human element that gave us such satisfaction in his earlier works.

I'll give you an example with the opening scene. The very first thing we are shown is a man being blown up whilst trying to diffuse a landmine. The scene is played from a distance without any context, and it rapidly cuts to a quirky, surrealistic reaction, which makes us play off the entire event as a joke. Dark humor, the same way we see someone in Pulp Fiction get their brains blasted all over the back seat of a car and the next minute we are laughing at the bizarre squabbling between Travolta & Jackson. This is a great way of presenting dark comedy; however it cannot carry an entire 1hr 47 mins. Eventually we need a human story or at least a challenging plot to give us the backbone.

I purposely avoided mentioning the plot until now because the plot is truly not the focus of this film. The story is about a man who is trying to exact revenge on the 2 sleazy weapons dealers who ruined his life, and to do this he enlists the help of a team of bizarre circus-performer-type outcasts whom he meets at a junk yard. That's really the entire plot for 1hr 47min, straightforward, with a few wacky surprises here & there but nonetheless very linear. And the problem is, much like with the 1st scene, Jeunet doesn't invest any time in trying to set up a human connection between the audience and the main character.

As a quick aside, I want to point out that Jeunet had originally cast Jamel Debbouze (the loveable grocery boy in Amélie) as the main character, but according to Wikipedia "artistic and financial disagreements" prompted Jamel to quit the production after 3 weeks. His replacement Dany Boon plays the role very emotionlessly which is kinda interesting in its own way, but as I keep saying, after 1hr 47min you realize that the film has failed to make a human (emotional) connection with you.

Ok that's the bad. Here's the good (and believe it or not I DO recommend this film, but I'm just trying to temper your expectations if you are a rabid Jeunet fan like me). The technical artistry is unparalleled. The amount of work, planning, rehearsal, and sheer vision that went into each shot must have been enormous. In the Making of Micmacs featurette we get a taste of that, and we realize how much attention was paid to the tiniest detail like what postage stickers would go on a box that appears on screen for only 0.75 sec. So if you're into cinema for sheer art's sake, don't miss this flick. You can check my review history to see how many hundreds of films I waste my time watching, and I can honestly say that I can't think of another film that comes close to this level of pinpoint precision.

In addition to the amazing composition & choreography of each shot, we get Jeunet's signature surrealist style which puts us in a timeless state of mind. Even though the story happens in contemporary Paris, it's a very nostalgic look, making us feel like we're in a different world altogether. If you watch movies to escape from the reality of life then this flick is definitely for you.

I enjoyed this film, but you can probably tell that I didn't enjoy it as much as Jeunet's prior films, particularly his first 3 ending with Amélie. If you're new to Jeunet you might want to start there rather than diving straight into this barrage of quirkiness. The title itself translates as "Non-stop shenanigans" and that's exactly what we get.

French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet marks his return to the film world this weekend with Micmacs. For those of you unfamiliar with Jeunet's previous works, he is probably most known for his sugary goodness of a film that is Amélie. With Micmacs, Jeunet proves that he has not lost his touch.

We begin the film with a group of men in the desert. Each man is dressed in his best bomb-squad attire and is combing a strip of sand for landmines to diffuse. We focus on one man as he carefully locates and unearths a single mine. Just as he begins to diffuse it we are treated to a long shot of all of the men working as our friend blows up. The film zips away from this scene to the wife and son of the departed as they are informed of his death. Through several jump cuts, we are able to see that this event will affect the young boy's entire life. We then fast-forward to a small video rental store in modern day France. Bazil (Dany Boon), the young boy we previously met, is now fully grown and works at the video store. Bazil is presented as a simple and somewhat happy man with a love of film. He amorously recites the lines of the film he watches matching the cadence perfectly. At the same time, a high-speed car chase spills over into his world. As the chase passes by the video store, Bazil runs out to see the commotion. Just as he exits the store, a stray bullet flies out from the action movie taking place outside and catches him in the head, wounding, but not killing him. He is transported to a hospital where the doctor decides that he does not feel like chancing the surgery and leaves the bullet in Bazil's head.

As Bazil attempts to return to his life, he finds that everything has moved on without him. His apartment has been rented to someone new and his job has been giving to a cute young girl who gives him the bullet casing that was found in the street, remnants of the moment that changed everything. Bazil attempts to live a normal life, panhandling in order to get by. He is soon taken in by a group of eccentrics that will act as his family. While gathering junk he notices a building that bears the same symbol that was on the bullet casing. He then looks across the street and sees the symbol that was on the landmine that killed his father. The rest of the film then follows Bazil and his group as they seek to take down both companies.

The first thing that must be said about this film is how beautiful it is. Jeunet proves that a great filmmaker truly is an artist as each shot is more beautiful than the next. The viewer is never aware of just how fast the film often moves. Despite numerous jump cuts, a signature of Jeunet, the film feels very smooth, somehow avoiding the feeling that the film was edited by a child with ADD on a sugar high that often occurs with this technique. However, the film does have its flaws.

There is little character development throughout the film. The most well developed character, no surprise, is Bazil. The peripheral characters all seem to be one note jokes that are simply there to help both the story and Bazil move forward. I can honestly say that I cannot name any of the other characters in the movie, often referring to them as The Mother Figure, The Bendy Chick and That Human Cannonball Guy just to name a few. Of the eccentric group that Bazil runs with, each one has his own quirk with little to no development past that. The viewer is expected to accept these quirks and not dig any deeper into the characters. There truly is no fully three-dimensional character in the film.

Micmacs is consistently funny and ends in a way that will leave you smiling. The film is a feast for the eyes despite its lack of character development. If you like Amélie, you will like Micmacs. After five long years, it is great to be able to reenter Jeunet's world of whimsy.

The unfortunate well-meaning Frenchman Bazil (Dany Boon) finds himself wishing ill upon wealthy industrialists Nicholas Thibault de Fenouillet (André Doussillier) and Francois Marconi (Nicolas Marié), the heads of two corrupt artillery corporations, who are responsible for both the tragic death of his father when Bazil was a boy, and the silver bullet lodged in his head and set to explode at any moment. Assisted by an abnormally-skilled gang of other military victims, Bazil endeavours to bring down the two perpetrators and strike a damaging blow at the entire industry.

The aforementioned plot could potentially deliver a grim and bloodthirsty heist thriller, but French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet has other intentions. The opening scene in which the little boy Bazil (here played by the young Noé Boon) witnesses his father being blown to pieces amongst the familiar scenery of sandy deserts and Arab costumes, and the following event of Bazil being accidentally shot in the head by a rogue army officer, carry some suspense and sorrow. These serve as a succinct and sufficiently grave acknowledgement of the atrocities of terrorism, yet thankfully Jeunet has the intelligence and frivolity to drop the solemnity at this point, avoiding overstatement of the point and unleashing riches of wonderfully liberating and delightfully unpretentious entertainment.

Bazil's accomplices, or rather, kind and caring companions, are an extremely lovable and splendidly colourful bunch of very uncomplicated characters. Living in a cosy makeshift home, they support each other using their special talents, which range from the remarkable innovation of an expert inventor (a charming Michel Crémadès) to the incredible flexibility of a charismatic contortionist (Julie Ferrier's infectious spunk matches perfectly with Dany Boon's priceless quirks). Their plans to foil the two villains are extremely creative and utterly unexpected, providing most of the film's subtle and beautifully simplistic humour.

Although the film's simplicity does comes at a cost, dragging it far away from Oscar-worthy greatness. It also results in a slight lag in the middle, where its lack of depth truly takes its toll after the initial burst of exuberance momentarily ceases to resonate. However, this barren stretch of reel precedes and is redeemed by the ultimate serving of ingenious wit and hilarity.

All in all a sumptuous treat for everyone, proving just as effective across the language barriers.