Amélie
- David Peel
- Jul 26, 2020
- 2 min read
From a globe trotting gnome to the inexplicably simple mystery of a photo booth operator, Amélie is a film about taking pleasure in the small things and understanding that life isn't always happening elsewhere: although if you're not careful, just like the tour de France, it's gone by if you don't take the risk to fully live it. It also celebrates love. And just because that sounds underwhelmingly simple you'd be a fool not to take stock.
As a child, Amélie was mistakingly diagnosed with a heart condition by her non physically affectionate father. As a result she was homeschooled by her neurotic mother who tragically met her demise by being crushed to death by a suicidal Canadian. Even Amélies pet fish was suicidal. Perhaps this was a metaphor illustrating how life trapped in a "fish bowl" isn't a life worth living.
Amélie grew to become an introvert and a creative, a dreamer. She notices the details that other people don't which is quaint and endearing, like how drivers in films don't look at the road, and asks universal rooftop questions like how many couples are orgasming at any given moment. 15 apparently. I'd venture more than that.
Upon discovering a box containing nostalgic trinkets entombed in the cavity of her bathroom wall by a little boy some 40 years ago, she decides to return it to its owner. If it brings him joy she will become a veritable do-gooder and so spread her love. Thankfully, this is exactly what happens. She colours the world for a blind man she helps cross the street; she pranks the tetchy grocer to the end he thinks he's losing his mind; she even creates a love story within her own between two regulars of the Windmill Café. But what of her own love story? That begins with an unlikely entanglement with a like-minded obsessive who collects oddities created by anyone and everyone as they unwittingly interact with the world around them. From footprints in wet concrete and recordings of ridiculous laughs to discarded passport photos, he collects them all. Amélie likes to plunge her fingers into sacks of pulses and skips stones she finds all over on the Seine. I mean it's a match made in heaven and Amélie's journey of finally taking a "real" risk, prompted by her new and dear artist friend, "Glass man", who likes to recreate Renoirs, and her co-worker Gina, is painted with mischief, humour and insight.
The entire experience is heartwarming, enabling you to drink deep from the cup of joy that is celebrating the love between others. I've been single for a while now and one of life's greatest pleasures is seeing love flourish between those I care for. Amélie is a testament to that sentiment and I share it gladly.
5 cats listening to children's stories out of 5.
I wish I had a cat that would scratch and piss on people I don't like that I could read bedtime stories too. So same thing really.
there's something pleasant about cats listening to children's stories. I wish I had a cat I could drag to a playgroup.
You know it 😁👍
Cheers dude. And Tom, quite possibly 😂
Your best written review. It's clear how much you like the film.