micmacs review

Jeunet is a master. Every shot of this film, from the opening tableaux that tell the story of Bazil’s tragic formative years to the finale where the disparate plot threads tie together in a fantastic rush, is crafted to a perfection rarely seen. It’s a little sad, really. There are numerous references to American cinema both overt (The Big Sleep) and én passant (Rambo, Taxi Driver) which just point up how much better this is than what Hollywood’s cranking out. At least there weren’t Karate Kid or A-Team “reboot” trailers before the showing, or I probably would have wept.

As it was I just sat and watched in rapt attention and giggly joy at the sheer fun of Micmacs. We know from other Jeunet how it will go: exposition, some mounting victory, a massive unexpected setback, ultimate and ingenious triumph. But watching it unfold is sheer pleasure. For me the best parts of his films are the tiny details of the production design that make the absurd more concrete. Following the valvework and piping in Lost Children’s machinery; the humanity in Amelie’s photobooth pictures. Here we get the machinery in Micmacs’ workshop, enough brasswork and salvaged wiring to keep a trainload of steampunks enraptured for a month. Petit Pierre’s ingenious, artistic contraptions balance the functional fixed-up detritus the others repair and sell. All of it ridiculous, all completely believable in the context of the film.

I’m not even going to summarize the plot, just watch and enjoy. Soak it up. Don’t blink.