 Take a collection of six bumbling clones, a creepy
mad-scientist who can't dream, a little-person assistant who is the scientist's
sister (sort of), and a talking, disembodied brain. Add in a collection of thieving children
working for conjoined Siamese twins.
Combine one of the thieving children with one sideshow strongman who's
trying to find his abducted little brother.
Sprinkle in a collection of religious fanatics who've purposely blinded
themselves to see the "true light," and who've abducted a number of children
for the scientist's experiments, and have by chance taken the strongman's
little brother. Stir with a bit of
horror, dark comedy, and French surrealism.
Serve.
As chaotic as the above recipe may sound put together, the
end result is one of the creepier and more delightful adult fairy tales ever
put on screen. Odder still would be the
cinematic path that one of the two directors would follow from this movie
forward. The film in question is French
fantasy The City of Lost Children,
from Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet.
In an unnamed city, a strongman known only as One (Ron
Pearlman) is left with nowhere to go after his employer is stabbed trying to
prevent pickpockets from robbing his clientele.
One's miseries are compounded when his adopted little brother Denree
(cherubic Joseph Lucien) is abducted by a group of Cyclopes. These men have blinded themselves on the
orders of their fire and brimstone-preaching leader Gabriel (Serge), in the
belief that by doing so they will see the true light of salvation. They can still see in this world through the
use of bionic eyes that vaguely remind one of the Borg from Star Trek: The Next
Generation.
One's quest to find Denree and the Cyclopes brings him
across the path of Miette (Judith Vittet) and her cohorts in crime. These youngsters were taught the fine art of
thievery by Le Pieuvre (French for "octopus").
Le Pieuvre (played by Geneviéve Brunet and Odile Mallet) tries to get
rid of One at first, but realizes he has some utility for a heist that Le
Pieuvre hopes to turn the children onto.
What Le Pieuvre does not anticipate is the bond that will forge between
Miette and One.
Meanwhile, on a mysterious rig in the bay by the city, Krank
(Daniel Emilfork) struggles to find the key to his condition. He cannot dream, and the grief he feels for
this loss is aging him at an extraordinary rate. With the aid of his cloned "brothers" (all
played by Dominique Pinon), and his little "sister" Mademoiselle Bismuth
(Mireille Mossé), Krank has been enlisting the Cyclopes to steal children and
bring them to his waterborne lab. There
he tries to steal dreams from the children using a device that can connect
their sleeping minds. But all Krank
finds are nightmares.
Krank is further antagonized in his endeavors by "Uncle"
Irvin (voiced by Jean-Louis Trintignant).
Irvin is a disembodied brain in a tank with full consciousness. Irvin knows the truth about all of the rig's
residents. Irvin, Krank, the clones and
Bismuth are all failed experiments.
Their Creator had a falling out with Krank and was cast out. Irvin believes their Creator still lives
somewhere in the outside world, and hopes to find a way to contact the Creator
and enlist him in ending Krank's schemes.
As crazy as it may sound, all of these random elements get
enough time for the storylines to play out appropriately and come together in a
finale that is equal parts deranged, funny, and more than a bit sad. The films more surreal elements would seem
over the top in any other hands, but in Caro and Jeunet use a deft touch to
keep the story flowing smoothly and make the characters engaging.
I'd really like to know what it is about French directors
that allow them to be so adept at coaxing performances from young girls that
belie their years. First Luc Besson
turned Natalie Portman into the object of affection for borderline pedophiles
in The Professional in 1994. The Caro and Jeunet find Vittet and turn her
portrayal of Miette into something singular.
Miette easily wanders the line between having to be much older in caring
for her partners in crime, to a vulnerable youth as she confesses her envy for
One's sense of family and place with Denree.
Then she tries to assume a much older persona, it seems, as she tries to
process the love she starts to feel for One, a love that almost crosses the
threshold to being Lolita-esque, but pulls back at exactly the right moment.
Pearlman augments Vittet's performance beautifully as
One. One is a bit slow in the brains
department, but his heart is a big and strong as an ox. His pursuit of his petit frere is genuine,
and when Miette complicates the equation for One, he simply accepts her as part
of package, and loves her just the same.
In a scene where One is turned against Miette, the bond they've
developed to that point in the film heightens the tension. It's well executed by all the principle
players.
The supporting cast all turn in admirable performances as
well. Pinon does well to try and imbue
each of the clones with small tweaks of personality that makes each one a
little bit distinctive, but at the same time all of them come back to central
elements of character that ties them all together. Emilfork as Krank is frightening, but even in
that he has elements that coaxes out a bit of sympathy for him. His struggle to correct his fatal flaw is
something one can relate to, even if his methods turn that sympathy back
towards fear and anger.
And Brunét and Mallet as Le Pieuvre are insidious and
fascinating. They embody most of the
similar tics one associates with twins, while making the differences distinct
enough that one can distinguish them.
It's the physical aspects of their performance that makes the role truly
astounding. A scene where they plot as
they cook is worth seeing a few times by itself. The choreography of movement between the two
left me floored. It's just one more
example of the detail Caro and Jeunet put into making their combined vision
translate effectively to the screen.
As fascinating as I find this film, I find what came after
equally intriguing. Jeunet wound up
going from this film to helming what would, at first glance, seem to be a
Hollywood feature that would seem to be out of his oeuvre: the fourth film in
the Alien saga, Alien Resurrection. The film
was poorly received by fans of that franchise (myself included), but there's
something to be said for the vision he tried to bring to the film. Resurrection
has most of the dark foreboding visual elements on display in City of Lost Children, as well as two of
the principle actors in Pearlman and Pinon.
The surreal aspects and whimsy that exists in City of Lost
Children wound up being saved for Jeunet's next French film, Le Fabuleaux destin d'Amélie Poulain. In the US, it's better known by the single
name of its vibrant protagonist, Amélie. It's almost as if City of Lost Children was a film like Le Pieuvre, conjoined element
separated into two distinct halves.
I mentioned in my review of Pan's Labyrinth how I felt darker fairy tales were the best. It was the fantasy aspects of Pan's that made me think I needed to
revisit Lost Children, and though the
films only share a select few traits, those shared characteristics are run
strongly between them. If you find
yourself needing a dose of the surreal, City
of Lost Children can give you that fix and so much more.
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