This makes huge impressions right away, doesn't it? The first thing to catch our attention is the stop-motion animation, and I can only extend my highest commendations to filmmaker Adam Elliot and all the artists who contributed. The painstaking labor of the method, moving handcrafted elements piecemeal for one shot after another, connotes a love for the medium that cannot be overstated, and wherever stop-motion is exercised for an effects sequence in cinema - let alone an entire feature, like this - it's hard not to readily fall in love. This is to say nothing of the art style that greets us just as immediately: filled with tremendous, gratifying detail and texture in every aspect no matter how small, amidst character designs that are darkly cartoonish and exaggerated much like the art of no few children's books, and environments that are at once drag, dreary, and gloomy, but flush with a vibrant life all its own. Further bolstered with terrifically shrewd lighting and smart cinematography, the visual experience alone is stupendously evocative and absorbing, not to mention full of fabulous personality, to the point that Elliot could have arguably fashioned a script without any dialogue or narration and 'Memoir of a snail' would have been just as excellent, and just as compelling and capable in its storytelling. If that's not a compliment, then what is?
But Elliot did also write dialogue and narration, and almost from the very start the narrative that subsequently begins to form is heartily engrossing in its rich emotional tableau. To be sure, this picture is not something that will appeal to all comers, and it's absolutely not intended for all comers, either; there is violence, blood, nudity, and sex, and the storytelling is truly just as dour as the art - or, really, more so. This is very much an example of animation geared toward adults, with grim realism and incredibly difficult themes thinly veiled beneath the outward fancifulness, including death, loss, grief, regret, abuse, homophobia, depression and mental illness, cult fanaticism, and still much more. While we would appropriately categorize the sum total as a drama, "tragedy" is a more accurate descriptor. Yet there is cheeky, clever comedy amidst the melancholy, too, and even at its most harsh, the movie is intensely captivating, and downright fascinating. For as depressing as this mostly is, it overflows with marvelous, earnest heart and vitality that touches something deep within us. As Elliot lays out the life story of protagonist Grace and the people she meets - a more insular and downbeat inversion of the likes of 'Forrest Gump' - he treats us to attentive, careful dialogue, lovingly shaped characters, and inescapably vivid scene writing. At the same that 'Memoir of a snail' is sad and heartbreaking, it is so beautiful in its sincerity, its humanity, and its ultimate message that it comes full circle and is, in its own way, uplifting.
And that's still not all, because Elliot assembled a great cast of actors whose voice work here breathes momentous life into their characters; not to discount anyone else, but among others, Sarah Snook, Kodi Smit-McPhee, and Jacki Weaver are a real pleasure. With Elena Kats-Chernin's tasteful, tantalizing score deftly complementing every mood and idea, at length the film is wonderfully rewarding, and I'm hard-pressed to think of any criticism. It's as well made as we could ever suppose of modern cinema, and just happens to have artistic aesthetics and storytelling sensibilities that are a smidgen off the beaten path. It's no wonder that the flick has garnered so much attention and praise; as far as I'm concerned it's absolutely deserved. It bears repeating that this won't appeal to everyone, but I sat with no foreknowledge or particular expectations and am so deeply pleased with how good it turned out to be. So long as one is receptive to fare that explores darker spaces, I can only give 'Memoir of a snail' my very high, hearty, and enthusiastic recommendation!
But Elliot did also write dialogue and narration, and almost from the very start the narrative that subsequently begins to form is heartily engrossing in its rich emotional tableau. To be sure, this picture is not something that will appeal to all comers, and it's absolutely not intended for all comers, either; there is violence, blood, nudity, and sex, and the storytelling is truly just as dour as the art - or, really, more so. This is very much an example of animation geared toward adults, with grim realism and incredibly difficult themes thinly veiled beneath the outward fancifulness, including death, loss, grief, regret, abuse, homophobia, depression and mental illness, cult fanaticism, and still much more. While we would appropriately categorize the sum total as a drama, "tragedy" is a more accurate descriptor. Yet there is cheeky, clever comedy amidst the melancholy, too, and even at its most harsh, the movie is intensely captivating, and downright fascinating. For as depressing as this mostly is, it overflows with marvelous, earnest heart and vitality that touches something deep within us. As Elliot lays out the life story of protagonist Grace and the people she meets - a more insular and downbeat inversion of the likes of 'Forrest Gump' - he treats us to attentive, careful dialogue, lovingly shaped characters, and inescapably vivid scene writing. At the same that 'Memoir of a snail' is sad and heartbreaking, it is so beautiful in its sincerity, its humanity, and its ultimate message that it comes full circle and is, in its own way, uplifting.
And that's still not all, because Elliot assembled a great cast of actors whose voice work here breathes momentous life into their characters; not to discount anyone else, but among others, Sarah Snook, Kodi Smit-McPhee, and Jacki Weaver are a real pleasure. With Elena Kats-Chernin's tasteful, tantalizing score deftly complementing every mood and idea, at length the film is wonderfully rewarding, and I'm hard-pressed to think of any criticism. It's as well made as we could ever suppose of modern cinema, and just happens to have artistic aesthetics and storytelling sensibilities that are a smidgen off the beaten path. It's no wonder that the flick has garnered so much attention and praise; as far as I'm concerned it's absolutely deserved. It bears repeating that this won't appeal to everyone, but I sat with no foreknowledge or particular expectations and am so deeply pleased with how good it turned out to be. So long as one is receptive to fare that explores darker spaces, I can only give 'Memoir of a snail' my very high, hearty, and enthusiastic recommendation!