Friday, 22 July 2011

Productivity and Proclivity

In this newly-found energetic spirit that I find myself in, my blog will soon be a-go-go. Please come back later if you would like to read about all manner of things which get the old creative juices flowing.

Tuesday, 31 August 2010

L'Illusionniste (2010)

Back in 2003, Sylvain Chomet wowed many-an-audience with his quirky, Oscar-nominated Les Triplettes de Belleville. Since then he has been working on an Anglo-French animation, based on an original Jacques Tati script, namely L'Illusionniste. The film—set in the 1950s—is centred on an ailing vaudeville act (Jean Claude), who, after being forced to look for work in the UK, finds himself in idyllic Edinburgh, accompanied by a naive daughter-like figure who has joined him en route. Though not a silent picture, L'Illusionniste contains only occasional, virtually inaudible pieces of dialogue. Unsurprisingly, then, the film's real strength is in its visual impact, delighting the audience with stunning views of both rural- and city landscapes from a bygone age defined by stoicism and understated elegance. One especially evocative scene fully brings to life the city of Edinburgh, and its surrounding hills, in lush Technicolor: Chomet's hand-drawn animation undoubtedly demonstrates an artisanal attention to detail.

However, the film is much less successful as a character study. While the actions of our protagonist are believable enough, the two-dimensional characterisation of the “country bumpkin” Eilidh quickly grates. And the various scenes which involve his raw-sausage-eating pet rabbit will infuriate anyone who has ever owned said furry friends. By the end of the film, one cannot help but feel that the sharpened focus on creating luscious, elegiac animation was to the detriment of a decent plot. Certainly not a wasted 90 minutes of anybody’s life, but ultimately the old adage that a picture speaks a thousand words should have been applied more consistently.