In which I return, with reviews:

THE RABBI'S CAT [Le Chat du Rabbin] (2011; Gkids)

I admit that I've followed this film ever since it went into production, so I was quite excited to land a nice Blu-ray, double-disc copy recently. As I've stated before (see GAINSBOURG, VIE HEROIC), I'm a huge fan of Joann Sfar going back to his Burton-esque early works (Vampire Loves, Donjon), through his more recent historical comics (Rabbi's Cat,Klezmer) and now his films.

It would be easy to dismiss THE RABBI'S CAT as a religious themed parable with funny, talking animals -- and sure, there is a fair amount of Jewish culture as the base of the story. But it is exactly this set up which Sfar uses as a springboard to tell an entertaining tale about Algeria in the 1920's.

The protagonist, a cat with no name, lives with a Rabbi who “...says prayers in Hebrew for people who speak Arabic.” He has an almost-adult daughter, Zlabya, who is strong minded and independent, personality traits that give him concern as well as pride. 

The Cat eats a talking parrot and suddenly finds it is able to speak. While at first this is a novelty, it quickly becomes part of the film's larger debate about faith, culture, life, and what makes people different (or not) from each other. In an early scene, the Rabbi attempts to explain the Jewish Faith to The Cat who has expressed an interest in being Bar Mitzvah-ed (despite being told that he can't actually be Jewish because he is a cat). As the Rabbi makes his way through the early chapters of the bible -- Adam and Eve, Noah's Ark -- The Cat happily points out that because of carbon dating it's clear that it is all nonsense. This sort of irreverent humor pervades even the most serious passages and sets up a rather amusing finale as the themes come back around full circle. It is also rife with in-jokes, some aimed firmly at the French-Belgian comics scene (for example the characters make a journey across Africa and meet an obnoxious young “reporter” and his “stupid dog”).

The animation is elegant, 2D, hand-drawn style with some CGI. While it never completely captures the organic art of Joann Sfar's books (not an easy task for a music video, much less a feature film) it is beautiful and maintains his aesthetics. Excellent voice acting is provided by the French-language cast: Daniel Cohen as the Rabbi, Karina Testa as Zlabya, Eric Elmosnino (GAINSBOURG) as Professor Sulliman, Francois Morel as The Cat, and even Joann Sfar himself as the Man in the Box. THE RABBI'S CAT is by far one of the best animated films I've seen in some time and well worth the wait. 

There are two extras on the double-disc Blu-ray/DVD combo set. The 'Making Of' short film is interesting -- starting with models for the various characters, right through the voice actors and their take on the roles to the score -- all micro-managed by Sfar, who becomes charmingly excited whenever anyone gets something right. The hour-long JOANN SFAR DRAWS FROM MEMORY, screened at film festivals, is also included as a featurette. It works as a primer of sorts for people who may be unfamiliar with Sfar's work (he's been a household name in France for years and has changed the face of French comics indelibly). We watch him at work in cafes, discuss his process and the changes his career has been through. Also he reflects on his obsession with the past and the stories of his ancestors, even as he admits a desire to see his own children unburdened of that same history. It's an enjoyable mini-history for those who have followed his art for years (myself) and for those who have just stumbled onto this Bande Dessinée mega-star. 

Gainsbourg (Vie héroïque)

GAINSBOURG: A Heroic Life (2010).
Directed by Joann Sfar.

I admit to a small bias going into this film -- I like the music of Monsieur Gainsbourg and I'm a huge fan of artist-turned-filmmaker Joann Sfar. I did my best to put both of these predispositions away, but no doubt they color my opinion.

As one would expect from a film made by a first-time director best known for striking comic book storytelling, GAINSBOURG is carefully composed, lighted and photographed and has an emphasis on the visual. The first part of the film is set in World War II occupied Paris, where the child who will someday call himself Serge Gainsbourg is still just smart-alecky Lucien, who claims to hate playing piano when forced by his father to practice, but excels at it when it benefits him. Lucien's father is, himself, a professional pianist -- or at least makes his living playing in bars. The family is Jewish, and already feeling the pressure of an unwelcoming society that is about to turn toxic. Lucien, however, used this to his advantage, and takes pleasure in defying authority and charming adults in turns. That he has left school for the art academy at Montamorte allows Sfar to make grand use of his own art besides the surreal three-dimensional grotesqueries drummed up by Lucien's imagination. Sfar dwells on Lucien's obsession with the specter of his Jewishness as well as his obsession with his own physical inadequacy -- a girl tells him he's ugly in the first scene, and he carries it for the rest of the film. Even as a child, Lucien wears black, smokes constantly and treats women as objects of sex to idolize, obsess over and reject, which flows seamlessly into his adulthood and an endless stream of wives and lovers. Sfar haunts his subject with literal demons, forcing Lucian/Serge -- played by Eric Elmosnino with quiet nuance -- to interact with a literal manifestation of his id, a puppet dubbed La Gueule, performed by Doug Jones (HELLBOY). After his first success, Gainsbourg visits home and his father gives him faint praise for his career while encouraging him to indulge in infidelities. Instead of showing surprise that his strict father would be so bohemian, he takes it in stride, and also takes the advice. He makes a conscious decision to write songs loaded with double entendre, “poison apples” for corruption of youth, or possibly just to entertain his inflated, fragile ego. The later part of the film features fewer Sfar-isms (talking cats, puppets) as Serge and his ego become one -- punctuated by the arrival of Brigitte Bardot (Laetitia Casta). From here on out, it's more specifically the Gainsbourg people either love or hate; a French stereotype of a weathered genius who spends more time seducing women half his age than he does writing songs for them to sing, though more than a few seem less wilting violets than venus flytraps. The heart of the storyline is his ill-fated romance with Jane Birkin (Lucy Gordon, who committed suicide two months after the film's completion), which starts with him insulting her and passing out drunk in her lap and ends with her leaving him. There are tender moments -- he plays with her daughter from a previous marriage, she gives him a dog, all tainted by the irony of her having a hit with the love song he wrote for Bardot...

But the real story here is less of a biography than an homage to the life of an artist, whether a painter, a jazz musician or a songwriter of pop hits... or a cartoonist. And I suspect there is more than a little of Sfar's own biography mixed in. The closest thing I can compare it to is SEX DRUGS AND ROCK & ROLL, the Ian Dury bio-drama, which much like this one, works best the less you know about the subject.

ADÈLE BLANC-SEC

LES AVENTURES EXTRAORDINAIRES D'ADÈLE BLANC-SEC (2010)
Dir: Luc Besson


I love French comics (bande dessinée), and I'm something of a Luc Besson fan, even if I've found his more recent offerings a bit... lackluster. ANGEL-A was watchable, but not great. ARTHUR AND THE INVISIBLES was a mess (but still spawned two sequels, go figure). THE MESSENGER was nearly unwatchable, and I feel I'm giving it more credit than it deserves just by saying that. That makes LES AVENTURES EXTRAORDINAIRES D'ADÈLE BLANC-SEC his best effort since 1997's THE FIFTH ELEMENT. Certainly, ADÈLE has a lot in common with THE FIFTH ELEMENT. Both are snappily filmed, effects-heavy action fare with comedy overtones. Both feature a former model as the leading lady and have a loving approach to the vast culture of comics in France. Based on the Jacques Tardi series of the same name and set in 1911, Louise Bourgoin (LE PETIT NICOLAS) plays the title character of Adèle, a reporter of some fame who has gone AWOL from her most recent assignment and skipped Peru for tomb raiding in Egypt. Meanwhile in Paris, doctor of anthropology Esperandieu (Jacky Nercessian) has developed a mystical power and used it to resurrect a Pterodactyl from an egg in the Musée du Louvre. The Pterodactyl menaces Paris, killing officials and even scaring the president in his parlor. A bumbling detective is put on the case and Giles Lellouche (MESRINE: KILLER INSTINCT) plays Caponi with great zeal, whether eating or sleeping or looking proud while missing the facts. Jean-Paul Rouve plays Saint-Hubert, a big game hunter brought in to track down the beast, while quiet museum curator Andrej Zborowski (Nicolas Giraud) sways between pining for Adèle and trying to hide the Jurassic-era creature. Adèle returns from Egypt with the mummy of Rameses II's doctor, in the hopes Esperandieu can resurrect it and help save Adèle's brain-dead twin sister. What more can I say? Antics ensue, Adèle smart-talks everyone from camels to police into doing as she says, mummies drink tea and it wraps up neatly while leaving the door open for more adventures.

Besson plays fast and loose with Tardi's original material, ditching much of the cynicism and upping the humor. While Adèle of the books is more of an anti-hero (a criminal even), here she is a celebrity, easily able to get audience with the president of France -- only the moronic police lack respect for her. As expected from Besson and his crew, the camerawork is impeccable (cinematographer Thierry Arbogast has shot every Besson picture since LE FEMME NIKITA), and the recreation of pre-WWI France is stunning. The majority of the actors are delightfully made-up to mimic Tardi's grotesque cast of characters and the Egyptian scenes are lovingly detailed. The performances are impressive, and Bourgoin is a charming and compelling lead. Feel free to play 'Is that an in-joke?' as the film is packed with references to, among other things, Besson's other films. Also, I would guess that Mathieu Amalric's brief (and thoroughly unrecognizable) appearance as a deranged supervillain can only mean a non-Besson directed sequel in the works.

By the way, the lovely ad slick I used for the graphic is from the Shock Cinema Chirashi archive. Chirashi are small film posters distributed in Japan to promote new releases.