Saturday, April 10, 2004
Some movies you just can't describe without sounding like you've been smoking crack; you'd rather just say "Go, go, see it for yourself. Anything I say about it will just be a bastardization of the real thing." That's the case with The Triplets of Belleville, a delightful French animated feature about -- to put it quite mildly -- a grandmother who saves her champion cyclist grandson from exploitation by the mob with the help of the singing group of the title. Written and directed by Sylvain Chomet -- a guy, as it turns out -- this is the kind of moving picture whose endlessly imaginative story is matched only the incredible technical resourcefulness of Chomet and his crew in achieving it. Chomet has designed a rich universe where people are either excessively fat or excessively thin -- or, like Grandma's memorable mutt Bruno, have really fat bodies and spindly legs. I'd say more but I have a book I need to finish by tomorrow. Anyway, see it -- great to look at, great to hear, great to experience, and you'll leave the theatre grinning madly, shaking your head and saying "Well, that was something." Or you'll call a friend and tell them to see it, and when they ask what it's about you'll say, "You know, some movies you just can't describe without sounding like you've been smoking crack..."