Les triplettes de Belleville

I found "The Triplets of Belleville" to be one of the most charming movies I've had the pleasure of seeing the last couple of years. This delightful movie follows the adventures of Madame Souza, her son, Champion, and their dog, Bruno.

Madame Souza recognizes that something is missing from Champion's life. His parents are, clearly, gone. All he has left from them is a picture of the pair of them on a bicycle. As she silently pieces together what Champion needs to be happy, she and he discover a new life as participants in the Tour de France - he as a competitor and her as his coach and trainer.

They live a life of quiet, simple joys until he is kidnapped, an event that leads to a trip to Belleville for all three. This fictional city will prove oddly familiar to most viewers. Here, Madame Souza is befriended by the titular characters - I will leave the "book report" style commenting here.

There are so many delights in this picture, but I am going to focus on my favorite character, Bruno the dog. I don't think I have ever seen a movie capture a real dog as well as this one does. We see him from a puppy, learn the event that leads him to hate trains, feel anxious for him when he paws at his bowl while the silly humans finish their own dinners, and fear for him when his canine instincts lead him to places of danger.

Throughout this all, Bruno is gloriously canine. He dreams of the things that are important to him, he sees the world as smells and images. He is awesome. Or, perhaps, she is awesome. Bruno is a male name, but many have suggested he is a she.

Anyhow, the other characters are great fun as well, but my heart belongs to this big fat dog. Even if I hadn't loved the rest of the movie (I did), I would recomend it for Bruno alone.

What a wonderful gem of work this is, and I am glad that it was done RECENTLY.

In a time when Pixar is setting the standard for "animation", here comes a film that makes you remember why you liked animation in the first place. This is a wonderful technique film, a study of art film, an abstract film, a joy to watch. The story might be a bit complicated for most to keep up but the beauty of it is - it's complexity. The grandmother was wonderful as well as the dog and the cyclist -- but what blew me away was the overdrawn charatures of the characters.

And there will be no more "frogs" for me, ladies! :)

A deserved USA Oscar nomination. In a Pixar world, bring on more like these to keep the balance too!

Within the first five minutes of The Triplets of Belleville I knew I was about to see either one of the worst films of the year, or one of the best- writer/director Sylvain Chomet and art director/designer Evgnei Tomov have created a (animated) world in which they seem to be in love with every frame, every image, every musical note, and at first there is that sense that this is an off-putting style. But soon I realized that what Chomet and Tomov were doing was much like what Luis Bunuel and Salvador Dali did with their classic Un Chien Andalou. The story is not incomprehensible because it's simple enough so that a child could follow along, and the strategy thus is to tell it with an artistic, intense, mad-cap, whatever you can think to call it, personalized view on the characters and the environments they get themselves into. That the film is from France adds a charm once the elements get skewed (the animators tackle the Tour de France, big cities, ocean-liners, singers, frogs, and the gangster underworld), and that it doesn't have- and doesn't need- subtitles to tell the story is another remarkable feat.

As the film reached into the last act, I then realized two things- 1) this is one of those films, like Un Chien Andalou and The Wall (the great Gerald Scarfe's influence was one that I guessed, though there's probably more I didn't catch on), that won't appeal to everyone. Those expecting a cute French animated film can expect that, however a movie-goer needs to have an open mind to the material, and that the term "cute" would be taken for granted while being immersed in this film. 2) since the film is made like an original, without much compromise to where the story has to be headed or which characters do and say what, at the least The Triplets of Belleville works superbly to create an overwhelming state of mind for the viewer. Personally, I get exhilarated watching a movie where I don't even WANT to expect where the story is headed. Throughout most of the 80 minutes I felt an un-canny faith in the filmmakers that their oddball, free-wheeling visions wouldn't go up in smoke. And by the end I left wanting more for some reason or another. Like I said, some might be turned sour by the execution of the material, yet for others the fantasy-like nature of The Triplets of Belleville should make for an interesting night-out. For one thing, you won't get those frogs out of your mind very easily. A+

Madame Souza raises her grandson Champion and tries to make him happier with a baby dog, Bruno. However, the boy remains sad, and the grandmother gives a tricycle for him. The boy gets excited with the gift, and trained by Madame Souza along the years, he finally competes the Tour de France. When Champion is kidnapped by two MIBs from the French mafia, Madame Souza and Bruno travel to Belleville to rescue him, with the support of the elder singers, the Belleville Sisters.

What a wonderful surprise "Les Triplettes de Belleville" is! An original, impressive and very bizarre dark story, that recalls the style of Tim Burton, supported by an amazing music score. The scene on the sea, while playing Mozart's Mass in C Minor, is fantastic and maybe my favorite. The city of Belleville, visibly inspired in New York, with a fat Statue of Liberty, is impressive. The intentional exxageration in the proportions of the ships and sky-scrapers is amazing and stylish. The grotesque and ugly characters are very unusual for heroes and even villains, and this movie is basically the opposite of the animations of Pixar and Disney. Madame Souza has a shorter leg; Champion has deformed legs and long nose; Bruno is horribly fat; the MIBs are plane; their boss is very short; the old singers look like witches; in common, all of them are very ugly. I really recommend this movie for viewers that aim to see a fresh idea of animation, with dark comedy and weird adventure. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "As Bicicletas de Belleville" ("The Bicycles of Belleville")

This stranger-than-usual animation is an ornate, intriguing piece of work, with a unique visual style somewhat resembling certain English cartoonists' (Ronald Searle's, for example) but very remote indeed from either Disney or South Park or Japanese anime. There are times as you watch, especially at first, before the repetition and the overkill of intricate detail begin to pall, when the originality and visual richness clearly approach the sublime. The combination of computer and traditional hand animation methods, carried out at such a level of complexity that the film required five years to complete, is an unquestionable triumph. But you may very well be put off when you realize that overall Sylvain Chomet's first full-length animated film has no discernible point or message; that its central figures are mournful, ugly, and unfriendly; that there is little plot, virtually no dialogue, and that the void left thereby is filled with a great deal of annoying noise and repulsive imagery. The twittering visual machinery of wiggling, yapping, howling dogs, of awkward, caricatured creatures of all sorts endlessly in motion, turns into a series of nightmarish repetitions that can easily become as off-putting as they are wearying.

I wanted to like this movie. Its originality and adeptness as a work of animation remain impressive. It gives new meaning to the very word `animation': every scene is a study of the nature and arts of motion. There are observations whose keenness is unique. As cultural commentary it certainly provides much material for debate. The vision of France a half century ago is quaint and intriguing. But the mournfulness, the sadomasochistic undertones, and the meanness build over time; and when the triplets dined on plates and pots full of still squirming frogs, my sympathies checked out. The undercurrents of nastiness both in the personalities of the principals and the depiction of American culture do not leave an endearing impression.

The plot is simple and can be seen as little more than a rough framework on which to hang the intricate doodlings, the recreation of a grotesque nostalgic vision of postwar France, and the endless experiments with the very nature of animation, which are perhaps ultimately the film's real point. An old French granny, Madame Souza, whose walk clatters from a big orthopedic shoe, lives in a rickety house somewhere in Fifties Paris or its environs. She has in her care a large dog, Bruno, and a large, lean, boy, Champion, her orphaned grandson, who dreams of racing in the Tour de France. She herself ruthlessly supervises his training, which is shown in meticulous detail and includes, at home, the use of a variety of Rube Goldberg contraptions to feed and condition him after he has returned from his exhausting day on the roads. Champion grows up with grotesquely hypertrophied leg muscles and tiny upper body, and competes as planned in the Tour de France. But during the race he's kidnapped by sinister box-shaped gangsters and taken to the city of Belleville, over in the new world. Madame de Souza and Bruno set out in pursuit, crossing the sea in a boat, complete with dramatic storm. Once in Belleville, a blatantly anti-American vision of New York perhaps including elements of Montreal (the inhabitants and even the Statue of Liberty are grossly fat), old granny makes the acquaintance of a trio of eccentric and fleshy former women vaudeville singers (whom we've seen do their scat-singing act on an ancient TV broadcast) and these `Triplettes de Belleville' help Madame recapture Champion from the kidnappers. One writer has suggested the plot is an allegory of how Hollywood steals the best European talents and sucks them dry. If so, the theft is foiled this time.

No movie has ever shown the curious way big cumbersome dogs can manage to get up on a bed with somebody already lying in it. This trick is shown several times. It remains one of the keenest pieces of observation I've ever seen in an animation. The intricacy of detail of Champion's training process is hard to get out of one's head; the depiction of a grueling, relentless exercise routine is unforgettable. Others will like moments like the great storm at sea, though the effects used there seemed to me out of sync with the more linear style of the rest. A momentary TV appearance of what is obviously Glenn Gould intricately nattering away at some Bach keyboard fugue, no doubt beamed to France from the Canadian Broadcasting System, provided one of many delicious little period details during the film's first half. There are also cameos squeezed in by Django Reinhardt, Josephine Baker, and Fred Astaire (who is eaten up by one of his tap shoes). Likewise the visions of period Tour de France training crews and roadside fans are priceless. It's difficult to do justice to such an intricate effort. The devil and the wonder are both in the details. Despite the lack of dialogue as a central element and its replacement by incidental noise (as well as occasional jaunty jazz), a feature that links The Triplets with the comic films of Jacques Tati, there really is a lot of quick French at times, and I have the feeling that in omitting subtitles, the filmmakers or distributors have robbed Anglophone viewers of some of the richest details; that there's French stuff here we can never hope to grasp. For the devotee, this is definitely one for repeated viewings. There's a lot to take in -- if you've got the stomach for it. Once may be enough for many, but anybody interested in animation needs that once. Not suitable for young children or anyone easily weirded out.