The 2022-2023 Film Journal Entry #63
By Xavier E. Palacios
"Micmacs"
4 out of 5
Directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet
Rated R
When Bazil was a boy, his father exploded from a land mine, utterly derailing the child's life. Now an adult, he is caught in a gunfight and gets a bullet trapped in his head, leading him to become homeless. Thankfully, Bazil finds a familial gang of talented misfits who build wonders out of recycled parts of the world, which is how he discovers that the mine and bullet that have ruined him so horribly were built by two rival weapons manufacturers stationed on the same street. So, with his new adoptive family, Bazil and the gang rage a comical and severe war of pranks and sabotage to take down the two company's psychopathic, evil CEOs.
Every so often, I randomly come across a film that absolutely, completely reminds me why movies are such a beloved, sublime, and magnificent medium of the arts. Happily, these pictures are not usually mainstream Hollywood blockbusters, though I love many an awe-inspiring picture from la la land, (such as, of course, Jurassic Park). Neither are they usually those high-class obscurities most university film professors assign their students, though, again, I have been moved by many a "homework" film, (Stalker immediately comes to mind). Often enough, these encouraging flicks are unheard of films that neither aim for intellectual superiority nor to become popcorn crowd pleasers. Last cinematic year, the film that reminded me why I love movies was Widows. For this film journal, I have discovered this French flick, Micmacs, and piece left me remembering why movies are fricking awesome.
I mean, just review the premise above. How could I not fall in love with a film like this one? The story brilliantly takes a harsh stance at the heinous and sinful practice of arms manufacturing, revealing the terrible fact that the ones behind these hellish corporate empires are just human beings who long ago sold their souls for Earthly riches at the expense of so, so many lives; using the free market and patriotism as their alibis at Heaven's gate. In celebratory fashion, the story of Bazil and these loveable, grown-up, and brainy weirdos using logic, magicians' tricks, and daring stunts to give these CEOs their long overdue suffering, (a fraction of a fraction of the pain they have caused millions of others), lets the audience indulge in seeing that these evil emperors have no clothes. They can be destroyed; power to the common people. Like watching Raiden fricking annihilate Senator Armstrong in the video game, Metal Gear Rising: Revengance, witnessing these pure souls inflict righteous (and humorous) punishment upon the unrepentant, blatantly wicked souls is cathartic.
But Micmacs is a great comedy, too, and what these filmmakers invent is intoxicating to behold. After each new strike Bazil and the gang make against these two CEOs, I was eager to see what they would do next! Brilliantly, much of the film's comedy is based in silent, physical antics straight out of the era of silent cinema. I could not believe what I was seeing for most of this seriously fun film. This piece proves what director Genndy Tartakovsky has been saying for over twenty-five years: dialogue is not mandatory to tell a clear, concise, emotional, and terrific story. As if the filmmakers uncovered a lost Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd, or Roscoe Arbuckle picture, Micmacs is a great example in using old fashioned stylings from old timey cinema for the sake of universal fun, not academic approval.
The film's inventiveness is also wonderful, from the silly animated sequences to the gags both lighthearted and dark. After all, the tale is about clowns facing off against some of the darkest realms of the modern world: the combination is inevitable and appropriate. Now, against my usual habits, I am not going to really describe these comical scenes because I honestly want anyone reading this entry to see the film for themselves and see what pure imagination can bring to the silver screen. Yet, as a small preview, Micmacs involves, but is far from limited to, a lady using a vacuum to steal the skeletal parts of historical figures; a human cannonball; and lots of eavesdropping via chimney stacks. Just for starters.
Admittedly, my one immediate criticism is that a little too much of the film's visual color palette is often seeped in this ugly, toilet-like brown-yellow shade, which contrasts the spirit of the piece for me. But, really, this one flaw is beyond worth dealing with to go on such a funny, uplifting, and imaginative trip down the best paths of cinema's wonderlands. Right as the cinematic year is coming to a close, this great little piece I have never heard of has shown up right out of the blue and lit up my day. Micmacs proves why movies can be spectacular; in particular, comedy flicks. So, do not walk to this picture, run to this picture, and find out what happens when forgotten eccentrics decide to put some of the most nasty SOBs in the world in their place. I am certain the sprint will be worth every effort.
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The 2022-2023 Film Journal Entry #63: "Micmacs"
No FicciónThe 2022-2023 Film Journal continues with this sixty-third entry, "Micmacs". Here, I take a look at the impact this previously unheard of French comedy had on me and why such an experience matters.
