So this is what they were talking about when they said, “let’s make movie magic!”
Amelie, directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet, is a romantic comedy that came out in 2001 and is still the highest grossing foreign film to hit American theaters. It tells the tale of a shy waitress (named Amelie, of course) who assumes the role as puppet master to her neighborhood friends, bringing them all to their destinies while Amelie (Audrey Tautou) discovers her own. It’s a story of many players, many quirks, and just enough tricks. Colorful in every aspect, Amelie manages to create something live action films rarely do: a convincing fantasy.
This film is atmospheric in a way that is most comparable to Wes Anderson’s work, from my personal experience. Jeunet and Anderson’s films both rely heavily on set design, color, cinematography, and a certain level of whimsy that’s noticeable, but not necessarily distracting. Everything is coordinated to perfection. Amelie succeeds in inventing its own, distinctive universe. Tragedy is felt, but with a gentle, child-sized hand. For example, the scene of Amelie’s mother’s death is completely ridiculous in a way that could almost come off callous, but instead it translates as more of a soft explanation for death. Romantic comedies need a certain amount of emotion to be romantic, after all, and without being manipulative or forcing it, Amelie lays it on lightly and pleasantly.
Tautou’s performance ties the film together well. From her delicate ability to portray a certain level of goofiness while retaining the audience’s attention in a serious manner, to rocking that bizarre (but super french) haircut, she really became Amelie. It’s not annoying when she’s shy, but it’s utterly devastating when she’s sad. Tautou sits comfortably at the heart of this film, which is important in a universe that has so many different tones and temperaments.
Amelie is so much fun, too. There are so many characters to root for, dispise, laugh at, and empathize with. There is a narrator, there are fourth wall breaks. It’s also fearless with it’s humor. Jeunet isn’t afraid to shock the viewer with a montage of raunchy orgasms, or a include a cut away in which Amelie’s love interest, Nino (Mathieu Kassovitz), is a black-and-white russian hobo on a mountain. Jokes pack a relatable punch too, one that made me think over and over again: “Okay, so maybe I do that little weird thing too.”
Something you’ll notice if you watch this film is that it’s pretty damn green. And that’s not a saying, there is so much green in this film that I checked my television’s white balance halfway through, just to make sure it wasn’t broken. This is due to the filmmaker’s use of digital intermediate, which is a camera lensing method used to manipulate color and other image characteristics. It’s a subtle element that adds to this film’s other-worldliness. Amelie’s color is green, she is lively and growing, so it fits. Nino’s color is red, he is romantic and full of passion. Digital intermediate not only adds to the aesthetic of Amelie, but adds a richness to the subtext film that makes it worth a second viewing, or ten.
Throughout this film, there is no question or doubt that things will work out for our lead. You want to watch her succeed and you will. Normally, this would be considered a bad thing, films should contain a certain level of opacity, or suspense to keep us interested. But not Amelie. This is a nice movie. Bright, cheery, uplifting, and full of hope, it’s proof that good things are always in the works.
Reviews by: Jordan 