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Review: Jamie Chrishel | Rating:
2
NOMINATED for two Academy Awards, this magnificently quirky animated
film stands proudly next to some of the best in the field like
Spirited Away, The Castle of Cagliostro and The Fantastic Planet,
to name a few.
Delightfully playful and sharply observed, The Triplets of Belleville
is an overwhelming feast for the senses, with its hysterically
exaggerated characters, both breathtakingly vast and intricately
rich settings, and infectious musical score, all bathed in a subtle
melancholy which can’t help but make you empathise with the
protagonists and their plight.
Madame Souse, a clubfooted workhorse of a woman, and her grandson,
Champion, live in a dilapidated old house on the outskirts of
a small French town.
In a desperate but genuine effort to please the sad-eyed boy,
Souse buys him a bloodhound puppy, named Bruno, who seems only
to join Champion in his loneliness.
It is not until Madame Souse finds a scrapbook filled with clippings
of famous Tour de France cyclists under the young boy’s bed
does she understand where his interest lies.
Champion’s eyes light up to sight of a brand new tricycle,
which he rides with fervour around the tiny courtyard behind their
house.
From here, we jump to Madame Souse having solely dedicated herself
to training Champion, now a young adult, to be a contender in
the Tour de France.
When he does compete, though, he is kidnapped by two shady gangsters
(who look like a pair of black shoe boxes with ties and sunglasses)
and hauled away on a ship to the bustling megalopolis of Belleville.
Souse and Bruno steal a paddle boat and follow them to Belleville,
a huge conglomeration of towering buildings and streets bustling
with mainly rich and excessively obese people.
The city seems to be heavily influenced by the capitalist-fuelled
facet of New York (even the statue of liberty is overweight).
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In Belleville, Souse and Bruno cross paths with three retired
show singers from the days of Fred Astaire, the now geriatric,
triplets of Belleville.
The triplets, who are a cross between the Andrews sisters and
the three witches from Macbeth (the frogs-legs broth scene says
it all), team up with our two heroes to save Champion from the
clutches of the Belleville Mafia bosses and their diabolical schemes.
Chomet has created a wonderfully rich, character driven piece
of cinema with The Triplets of Belleville which is both strikingly
original and deeply moving (not too mention incredibly funny).
The caricatured style of both the people and the settings give
this film a unique and visually exciting quality.
It also allows for some very clever parodies of both American
and French culture.
An example of this is the towering wine bottle-shaped building
which serves as the headquarters for the Belleville Mafia boss
who, in true French wine-loving style, sports a pitted red swollen
nose and dark rings under his eyes.
The film is also predominately silent which works to great effect
in the sense that it lets the art of gesture and facial expression
take centre stage in telling the story of the characters adventures.
Akin to films like Spirited Away, Chomet's animation is mainly
hand-drawn, which gives it a much more personal feel than the
recent Pixar releases, like Skrek and Finding Nemo.
I must say that the films that have been released by the Pixar
team have been some of the best animated films released by Hollywood
studios in many years.
However, The Triplets of Belleville reminds us of how effective
and textured animation can be when it is drawn directly from the
creators pen.
Chomet has incorporated some digital elements into the film but
they are so seamlessly intertwined that they only enhance the
fantastic hand-crafted animation.
For people who have in their mind that animation is an inferior
medium to that of live film, I would urge them to go and see The
Triplets of Belleville and I have no doubt that they will come
out with a different perspective.
This film is a rare gem among the onslaught of special effects-driven
popcorn films, which seem to constantly flood the cinema screens,
and it proves, once more, that the strength of richly defined
characters and a ripping yarn outweighs anything that a computer
could ever create.
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