Let's kick things off with an animated film I just recently re-watched. I picked this one up on blu ray at Best Buy a few months back. I'd been curious about it for quite some time, not only since it was nominated for an Oscar, but I'm also a fan of Sylvain Chomet's last feature, The Triplets of Belleville (which was also nominated). A few days pass after I buy it, and one night I'm hanging out with a buddy. We get a bit intoxicated, so now we're looking for something to do.
"Wanna watch this artsy animated French movie I bought?"
"That... that sounds really good right now, dude."
We watch nearly the entire film in silence, occasionally chuckling with the film's comedic moments. As much as I wanted to talk about how weird the characters look, or how beautiful the music is, I simply could not break the trance L'illusionniste put me in. I still can't. Every time watch it, I am completely, hopelessly absorbed by it. I mean... just look at how effing gorgeous this thing is.
Every frame of this movie is as striking as the last, and it's all entirely drawn by hand (save for the occasional touch of CG for things like vehicles and a sweeping view of the cityscape near the end). That alone makes this film something to behold in today's digital age, where frame-by-frame animation has become somewhat of a lost art. But Monsieur Chomet doesn't stop there, as he accompanies these lovely visions with an equally lovely score, ranging from the bouncy theme that reflects the The Illusionist's lighthearted whimsy...
...to this haunting arrangement that highlights the film's crushingly bittersweet ending.
I'm kind of getting choked up again just listening to it. Did I mention that this film can make grown men cry their eyes out? Out of the four times I've viewed L'illusionniste, twice I've had to clench my throat to prevent myself from bawling uncontrollably. And the worst part of it? It's not even that devastating. No one dies. It's not like when Lucilla gives her speech at the end of Gladiator and we see Russell Crowe walking through the field and sh*t... it's nothing like that. There are no archetypal heroes or villains to be found in this film. Just people. Simply a slice of life from an era long forgotten.
Now that I mention it, I haven't even talked about the story, have I? I've prattled on about how pretty it looks and how nice the music is, but not what the bloody thing's even about. Well it takes place in the late 1950s and follows an old traveling magician simply known as "Tatischeff". We see his struggle early on in the film; times are changing, and people have lost interest in acts like magicians and ventriloquists, in favor of rock 'n' roll groups such as "Billy Boy and the Britoons".
While performing at a party, a drunken patron takes a liking to Tatischeff and gets him a gig at a pub on a remote Scottish isle. Is it here where he meets the naive young Alice, who sees his illusions not as mere parlor tricks, but as genuine magic. She then decides to abandon her quaint life and join Tatischeff in his travels, forcing him to become her guardian. What follows is a small, yet thoughtful tale of finding your place in an changing world, as well as the relationship between father and daughter. I should probably mention at this point that this film has practically zero dialogue. Sometimes a character will mumble something inconsequential, but really, the story is told using no spoken words whatsoever. This is easily my favorite thing about the movie.
Film is first and foremost a visual medium; it's all about showing, not telling. Disney and Studio Ghibli also put out great looking & sounding productions, but too often do I wish the characters would just shut the hell up. The lack of dialogue makes L'illusionniste remarkably sophisticated; it truly is animation for adults. Not that there's anything objectionable in this movie-- by all means let your kids watch it-- but it requires a decent attention span for full appreciation. So with its silent characters, you get a story that can be fully understood with just your eyes, and your ears are free to absorb every nuance of the sound production. It's an absolute treat. Cartoons are perhaps the worst offenders when it comes to cramming messages down your throat with no subtlety whatsoever. You won't find any sugarcoated spoonfed bullsh*t in this movie. Here's an example.
A very, very sad clown lives in the same building as Tatischeff and Alice. Much like the main character, he struggles in a world that no longer embraces his vaudevillian way of entertaining. He spends most nights drowning his sorrows with whiskey and circus music. He's about to hang himself when he hears Alice knocking on his door. He discovers that she brought him a bowl of hot homemade soup, which he excitedly eats up. And that's it. There's no unnecessary melodrama, no character harping about how great life is and why you shouldn't kill yourself-- the film simply shows you how a small act of kindness can affect someone. It doesn't dwell on it, doesn't shove it in your face, it just naturally happens and then moves forward.
The film's romance is treated the same way. How many movies have you seen where the girl falls for the "bad boy" and gets herself into a heap of trouble? That doesn't happen here. The film doesn't include a love interest for the sake of the audience, but rather it's used to show that Alice is growing up. The movie doesn't glamorize young love nor makes it excruciatingly mushy. It's simple, unobtrusive character development, and that's all that it needs to be. I can't count the number of times I've been distracted by the romantic subplot in a movie, asking myself "WHY is this here?". And yet in L'illusionniste there is no fluffy shmaltz to be found.
The movie effortlessly switches between the masks of drama and comedy to the point where they're indistinguishable from one another; it maintains a very balanced tonal consistency. It can be sentimental without being heavy-handed, it can be very humorous but you never take it any less seriously. Even at a brisk 80 minutes in length, the pacing maintains a sort of leisurely stroll that never gets rushed nor does it pause for too long. Movies rarely achieve such a harmonious relationship between form and content, but that just goes to show you how truly well crafted L'illusionniste is.
The film is based on a script written by the late great French filmmaker Jacques Tati (pictured above), and in many ways this is his movie too. The main character is modeled after Tati himself, from his appearance right down to his movements. Tati also knew too well that film is most importantly a visual medium; he didn't weigh his movies down with needless dialogue. He was fond of long takes and had a flowing, organic sense of humor that perfectly complimented his storytelling. Chomet captures Tati's naturalist style with gusto and presents it as an impossibly beautiful moving painting. I'm sure that Jacques would have been very pleased.
Too many people want to be pandered to. We want characters that talk, we want cliches. We want to be comforted by things that are familiar. But sometimes we need to cast those expectations aside to recognize true art. And that's precisely what L'illusionniste is. Some say that perfection doesn't exist but I would concede that this comes pretty damn close. I'm seriously at a loss when it comes to finding something in the film that bothered me or seemed even a bit "off". I've seen L'illusionniste four times since I bought it a few months ago, and I predict I will watch it at least four more times before the year is up. With each viewing I just become fonder and fonder of it. This is one that can be admired by people of all ages, genders, cultural backgrounds... everyone. Everyone should watch this movie. C'est magnifique!
