Review: Micmacs
Filmmaker Jean-Pierre Jeunet has finally returned to the darkly whimsical form that won him a place in the heart of many a cineaste with Micmacs (Micmacs à tire-larigot), a hit at both Butt-Numb-a-Thon 2009 and SXSW 2010. The film opens today at Alamo Drafthouse on South Lamar and the Arbor.
Through improbable circumstances, Bazil (Dany Boon) loses everything after a bullet gets lodged in his skull. Homeless, he's taken in by a motley crew of salvaging outcasts making a living off Paris' discarded junk. When Bazil happens upon the weapons/munitions companies that cost him his old life, he and his new friends embark on a series of capers to shut both companies down and bring their chairmen to justice.
If you're unfamiliar with Jeunet's peculiar brand of cinema magic, then imagine Chaplin's Little Tramp in a contemporary ensemble caper film. Dialogue is limited, relying heavily on the gestures and expressions of the actors that helps Micmacs transcend language barriers. In fact, many scenes in the film rely on classic street theater techniques similar to silent film comedy devices.
Many scenes are vignettes that would almost hold up as independent shorts, but together, Jeunet works his magic to create an alternate reality where the good guys turn the tables on the bad without ever sinking to their level. One particularly hilarious scene involves a complex plan to sideline a potential customer that includes miming ... and tourists.
Jeunet has made a career out of twisted fairy tales: Amélie, The City of Lost Children and Delicatessen have all achieved cult status. And like his earlier films, Jeunet continues his love affair with actors who embody eccentricity to the point of seemingly being living (yet lovingly filmed) caricatures. With the exception perhaps of Audrey Tautou, Jeunet eschews casting pretty people and gravitates to actors with refreshingly unique presences on camera, enhancing the power of his storytelling.
Dany Boon (The Valet, Joyeux Noël) gives Bazil a sweet mischievousness that completely draws in the audiences. His ingenuousness is disarming. Longtime collaborator Dominique Pinon, who has been in every Jeunet feature-length film (including Alien: Resurrection), is a delight for Jeunet fans but professional enough to not quite steal the scenes he's in, because Micmacs is an ensemble piece. In fact, each of the actors in the little scavenger family plays off the rest with a familiarity that belies the fact they are not all Jeunet vets with a history of working together, their chemistry is that solid. Pinon is not the only one who's worked with Jeunet before. Yolande Moreau was in Amélie as was André Dussollier, who was also in A Very Long Engagement.
Sharp eyes will not only recognize some familiar faces from other films in the main cast, but a couple of nods to Delicatessen. The actor from the opening sequence of Delicatessen is in one of the climactic shots of Micmacs, and another brief moment provides an homage to Jeunet's first feature.
If you're wondering about the title, it's taken from slang, making it hard to find reliable translations. From what I can tell, "Micmacs" may mean junk (or worse), and "à tire-larigot" roughly translates to "your heart's content." A rowmate at Butt-Numb-a-Thon, who happened to be from France, said that most of the dialogue is old Parisian slang and is surprisingly well translated in the subtitles.
Micmacs is the sweetest feel-good revenge film ever made. If this doesn't turn you into a Jeunet fanatic, nothing will.
For a slightly different point of view, check out Jette's review of Micmacs for Cinematical, as well as her interview with filmmaker Jean-Pierre Jeunet.