MicMacs (2009)
MicMacs (FR) Directed by Jean-Pierre Juenet Written by Jean-Pierre Jeunet; Guillaume Laurant Starring Dany Boon; Andre Dussollier; Nicolas Marie; Yolande Moreau; Jean-Pierre Marielle; Julie Ferrer; Dominique Pignon; Omar Sy; Michel Cremades
Early on in Director Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s career he made several wildly inventive, quasi-post apocalyptic films. Like Wes Anderson, Terry Gilliam, Tim Burton, or, for that matter, any maker of highly stylized film, the success of the end product is a subjective matter. When the precious formula is mixed properly the results can be stunning. When something is off in the alchemy, however, one can be left with the feeling of being served an undercooked meal. While no one could deny Jeunet’s talent when it comes to set/visual design, MicMacs comes off as a kind of ode not only to classic silent comedies, but also to Jeunet’s previous work. The resulting stew is a bit of a mess with a fanciful plot that seems loaded with a host of unnecessary twists and turns, and comic book villains that fail to compel. While the lead character, video clerk Bazil (Dany Boon) starts out interesting, and there are a plethora of quirky, rubber-faced cohorts (including Jeunet favorite Dominique Pinchon), amusing mechanical contraptions, and beautiful lights illuminating intense color, there is little to invest in, and one can never escape the feeling of having seen Jeunet do it before, and do it better. City of Lost Children (1995) and Delicatessen (1991) were both so innovative and new, the pace so frenetic, the situations so outrageous, that one was able to become immersed in Jeunet’s bizarre dreamworlds. While Amelie (2001) and a Very Long Engagement (2004) contained their fair share of Jeunet’s fetishized design and overall whimsy, the presence of the talented Audrey Tatou, and the subtle intricacies of both stories allowed the fanciful accents to properly manifest as mere complimentary elements. When compared to the early part of his career, these latter two films seemed to represent Jeunet’s growth as a storyteller. MicMacs, however, ultimately feels like a step backwards, with a collection of quirky bits and amusing secondary characters that, with so little else to grasp onto, wind up emerging as the whole enchilada. Despite a promising first half hour and a series of mildly entertaining gags, the story is missing the pathos that bolstered Jeunet’s more successful films with weight to offset and contextualize the whimsy. With MicMacs we are presented with a sloppy, ill-conceived plot that has Bazil avenging his parents death by setting up two arms dealers. Whatever clever touches remain play out like so many disconnected bits, rather than serving the overall tone of a greater story.