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There is something about the style of Jean-Pierre Jeunet that manages to transport audiences to a completely different world in every film he makes. It can't just be his love of yellow filters (which have a quasi-mystical ability to make everything seem otherworldly), nor can it merely be his eye for the bizarre. Whatever it may be, MicMacs has it again: in spades.
An endearing homage to Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, a fierce lampooning of the arms industry, and another love letter to the oddballs of the world, MicMacs is a story of misfortune, vengeance and love all rolled up into a cinematic mulch that's as weird and wonderful as anything you're likely to see. In a triumphant return to the style of Delicatessen and Amelie, MicMacs treads the fine line between the tragedy, comedy and absurdity with all of the playful flair of a circus performer; a comparison Jeunet would no doubt love. For those fans of his previous works, there are plenty of knowing nods and even a couple of cameos for his previous characters (who received a warm welcome in our audience) as we hear the wonderfully weird story of a man named Bazil.
Beginning with his ill-fated early years, we are rapidly acquainted of the tragedy that has beset his life. Firstly, his father was killed by a landmine, then he loses his mother, and finally a freak accident results in Bazil having a bullet lodged perilously in his brain. Tired, alone and on the streets (here's where some good homage kick in) Bazil wonders what else life can throw at him. Luckily, however, it soon throws him a lifeline: in the form of a rag-tag band of quirky outcasts who live in a junk-yard, much like the UK's own much-loved womble family.
But the story doesn't end with this happy union of loveable kooks, for it turns out that nearby are two large arms manufacturers, the very same arms manufacturers who produced the landmine that killed Bazil's father and the bullet presently lodged in his brain. Needless to say that Bazil is keen to get a bit of vengeance against his heartless tormentors and, together with his new-found family, he hatches a madcap scheme to ruin them both.
Aside from the endearingly affected stylisation deployed by Jeunet to which I have already devoted more than enough time, this film is jam-packed with delectable goodies for the senses. The Keaton homages come thick and fast with a childish glee that more than does justice to the work of a man to whom cinema owes so much. Meanwhile members of the junkyard clan produce all sorts of oddities to distract and delight in equal measure. Of course, it wouldn't be a Jeunet film without an oddball love story at the centre, and MicMacs gladly delivers on this front too.
I can't think of another film recently that has delivered so much on so many fronts. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll smile knowingly and you'll indulge in all of the subtle gamut of emotions that lie in between. But even if I'm selling this too highly and you don't find the emotional payoff I so grandly promise, you can just allow your senses to gorge themselves on the bizarre audio-visual feast that Jeunet can produce so regularly.
Rating: ****
Starring: Dany Boon, André Dussollier, Nicolas Marié, Jean-Pierre Marielle, Yolande Moreau, Julie Ferrier, Omar Sy, Marie-Julie Baup Director: Jean-Pierre Jeunet Run time: 105 mins Certificate: UK 12A | US R Release date: 26th February 2010
Review by Michael Edwards
There's nothing quite like Jeunet, so it's hard to know what to recommend for lovers of this movie. For some sumptuous visuals I'd say it's worth hunting down Bunny and the Bull, and for some screwball comedy Youth in Revolt is worth a try. |