Les triplettes de Belleville

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 animated feature by Sylvain Chomet was seriously weird. The visuals were like no other movie I've seen and even now, weeks after I've seen it they still haunt my imagination. In structure the story is quite conventional – Madame Souza trains up her geeky grandson to be a top-line cyclist (a very French ambition) but while he is competing in the Tour de France he is abducted by criminals who remove him to `Belleville' on the other side of the Atlantic. M. Souza goes to find him and after many adventures…well, you know the rest. There's plenty of chasing about on Belleville's streets and freeways in very French looking vehicles that look like stretch limo versions of the immortal Citroen 2CV. Belleville itself is a curious amalgam of New York, Montreal and Paris, and seems to owe something to Fritz Lang's `Metropolis'.

The eponymous triplets are three former 30s singing stars now reduced to playing in cheap cafes, busking and eating frog's legs, of which Belleville seems to have an ample supply. They take M de Souza in and help her in her quest without any great benefit to themselves.

I did think it might help to appreciate this movie if you were French. There is virtually no dialogue (though plenty of singing) but there seem to be numerous references presumably satirical to various French national obsessions and preoccupations. What is the joke is not always clear to an outsider. Is there any significance in M Souza's originally being Portuguese? (She actually bears a close resemblance to the English cartoonist Giles's Grandma). Are top cyclist just nervy greyhounds with huge leg muscles? Do the French see themselves as svelte and Americans as all grossly obese? Are the French self-conscious about being typecast as frog-eaters? Are Citroen really planning a stretch limo version of the 2CV? I don't know, but then I don't need to.

Definitely different.

'The Triplets of Belleville' is a strange, largely wordless animated feature by French filmmaker Sylvain Chomet. It tells the story of a sad and lonely young boy whose sweet and doting grandmother buys him a bicycle in the hopes that it will bring a sense of purpose to his life. It does, for as the years pass, the lad grows to become a competitive cyclist, thanks in large part to the tender encouragement and ministrations of this adoring, and, one must say, adorable woman. While he's taking part in the Tour de France, some Mafia henchmen kidnap the boy so they can use him for a bizarre and deadly gambling scheme. The majority of the film recounts the attempts by his intrepid grandmother and his unflaggingly loyal dog to track the youngster down and rescue him. Aiding them in this endeavor are the Triplets of Belleville, a trio of aging nightclub singers with some bizarrely French eating habits whom they encounter on their way.

Because the film employs almost no dialogue or voice-over narration, it is left mainly to the visuals to convey the storyline. For this purpose, Chomet relies almost exclusively on facial expressions and body language to spell out the major plot points. The film's unique look arises from its gross distortion of shape, line and form, particularly in regards to the human figures. The thin characters are spindly and angular almost to grotesqueness, while those who are overweight run to a corpulence of awe-inspiring proportions. And the Mafia figures bring new meaning to the term 'broad-shouldered.' But it isn't just the humans. The thin, needle-like skyscrapers rise to impossible heights, while an ocean liner's hull is stretched vertically to such an extent that we expect the ship to capsize from its preposterously un-seaworthy design at any moment.

The film is filled with moments of great imagination, as when it visualizes the black-and-white dreams of an aging dog, or when it turns the tables and shows us three cartoon characters laughing it up while watching some 'live action' characters on TV indulging in inane slapstick madness.

Like all fine animated films, 'The Triplets of Belleville' creates its own unique world, filled with images and sights we've never quite seen before. By eliminating speech as a means of storytelling, the filmmaker heightens the surrealistic tone of what is being shown on screen.

'The Triplets of Bellville' isn't a great film, but its uniqueness of vision and form makes it one well worth watching.

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+

Yesterday evening a friend introduced me to this extraordinary piece of animation. After watching it I was left with the feeling that I'd just watched a film which communicated something to me, but I wasn't quite sure what that might be. For hours afterward I thought to myself, "Why did that film appeal to me so?" The story is simple and straightforward. The details are charming and nuanced. The rendering is a true tour-de-force. The one thing that caught my eye was the sheen of the water as Mme. Souza and Bruno are crossing the ocean in pursuit of her grandson. I can hardly believe that was animation. Then I noticed the play of the light on the water reflected against the hulls of the boats at dock in the harbor. My friend pointed out the skill of the graphic designers in maintaining the proper camera angles of the projected live film footage on the screen during the chase sequence.

The music is absolutely captivating. Everything from the opening dance-hall sequence to the extraordinary use of the Kyrie from Mozart's Mass in C Minor during the storm at sea and the entrance into the harbor of Belleville. Notice how the music builds in richness as the camera descends from the few spires at the beginning of the sequence to the dense mass at street level.

Remembering the details and how they relate to each other and the film as a whole keeps you thinking about the significance of the film's contents. For instance, I only now remember that the opening sequence was drawn in the archaic, fluid style of early cartoon animation (Steamboat Willy, Olive Oyl and Popeye) because, of course, it was depicting events which predated the time of the film proper. The style served a purpose, beyond being an end in itself.

For a long time after watching the film I remained puzzled about its appeal to me. I've seen a large number of animated feature films, but none have left me quite as reflective as did this one. I was less concerned with the meaning of the details. It is a cartoon, after all.

I continued to wonder about Madame Souza's expression. About how the creator was able to invest such meaning in those simple dark circles set behind thick lenses and the line of her mouth, which modulated between forthright resolve and a gentle satisfaction. Then it occurred to me. Beyond the larger outline of the story and the details in which it is couched, it tells us of the power of one person's love and concern for another. I suppose we all wish we could receive such unconditional love, and it makes us feel warm to think that such a thing could actually be. Even if only in a cartoon.

The film either will or will not appeal to you, depending on what it is you're looking for in an animated feature film. I watched it without expectations, and was left wondering, "Why does it resonate with me?" And you'll want to see it again.