Micmacs
Studio: Sony Pictures Classics
Rated: R
Cast: Dany Boon, Andre Dussollier, Nicolas Marie, Jean-Pierre Marielle, Yolande Moreau
Director: Jean-Pierre Jeunet
WorkNameSort: Micmacs
Our Rating: 4.00

Sepia-toned shenanigans are director Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s specialty, and Micmacs is no exception. At a young age, the film’s hapless hero, Bazil (Dany Boon), lost his father to a land mine; now, thanks to a drive-by shooting, Bazil takes a bullet to the brain. He lives, but loses both his home and video-store job before being taken in by a motley crew of junkyard dwellers ‘ among them a contortionist, a calculating wiz and an immigrant partial to idioms. Eager to help, these misfits team up to take down the rival arms dealers responsible for both the land mine and that fateful bullet.

It’s a regular Amélie’s 11, laden with screwball schemes and stripped of emotional arcs. Jeunet is content with a clear- cut good guy-bad guy dynamic here, reveling in a creativity-triumphs-destruction mindset that echoes Jeunet’s own efforts to work within an industry that typically stifles imagination. (In the five years between this and his last film, A Very Long Engagement, he had to back out of adapting the acclaimed book Life of Pi.)

He’s also never been more playful with a movie’s universe before. When not appropriating Max Steiner’s foreboding score to The Big Sleep (a film that Bazil is shown reciting at work just before shots are fired), Jeunet throws in nods to his own Delicatessen and even Micmacs ‘ yes, the film references itself, as current billboards for the film are plastered within the film. Why? ‘Why notâ?� is the name of Jeunet’s game.

The quirks get laid on a bit thick here and there. Whenever Bazil’s injury interferes with his line of thinking, we’re treated to an animated glimpse of his most fanciful thoughts. Neither the kindly ex-con who brings Bazil into the fold nor the quiet and remarkably strong inventor seem to distinguish themselves enough with their actions to justify being two separate characters in an ensemble otherwise distinguished by each character’s unique utility.

But that’s not enough to detract from the always-welcome presence of Dominique Pinon as our rascally human cannonball, or the perfect degrees by which Nicolas Marié, as one of the arms dealers, ratchets up his temper in reaction to corporate sabotage. (Speaking of ratchets, composer Raphaël Beau’s gear-laden orchestrations only add to the mischievous mood.) As for Boon, his slapstick antics fit right in, even if he’s ultimately not as remarkable a lead as Audrey Tautou was in Amélie or Pinon was in Delicatessen. His romance with Julie Ferrier’s contortionist is in turn cute, but not classic.

‘Cute, but not classicâ?� is also an adequate summation of the overall film. To call it minor Jeunet is backhanded; I can’t think of anyone else who could re-work The Sting in ways that’d make Rube Goldberg smile and be written off for it. It’s an odd escape; a live-action cartoon that takes on real-world villains without operating under the pretense that anyone here is really saving the day. 

Micmacs is not just filled with wishful thinking, but fueled by it, and even if its shenanigans come on a tad strong, at least they bring out a big smile along the way.

This article appears in Sep 1-7, 2010.