Most of us don’t remember what it was like to be two years old. The first few years of life consist largely of fragmented memories, stories that others have told, and pictures of babies that bear just enough resemblance. But the memories that do remain, those that stick in the corners of minds, are filled with fascination for a child. These memories don’t need to be for significant occasions, though.
I remember being four years old, trying a tangerine for the first time, fully blowing my mind that food can have that much flavor. For Amélie, the tot-sized lead in Maïlys Vallade and Liane-Cho Han’s animated Little Amélie or the Character of Rain, it’s eating a piece of white chocolate. The film exists as a 77-minute string of these moments, a glimpse into the life of someone who’s about to turn three years old, a remembrance of how each of us looked at the world.
Amélie, voiced by Loïse Charpentier, with big green eyes and curly brown hair, is a Belgian toddler living with her siblings and parents in Japan. She lives her first two years in a bubble, unable to move and believing she’s a god. Once she’s pushed into the world, her grandmother welcomes her to the land of the living with this gift of chocolate, lifting her into another dimension. She’s a precocious child, able to speak in full sentences, giving a layered voiceover with each scene. Yet, she’s experiencing all of this for the first time—life, death, friendship, anger, and even the consequences of 1960s post-war Japan, the not-so-subtle backdrop for the film. Vallade and Han don’t focus on the politics of the era, though, but rather create a colorful world for this young girl to see.
The directors, adapting a novel of the same name, focus on immersion over plot. Amélie herself is endlessly adorable, and her eyes give the audience a window to look at and look through. But it’s the world around her that Vallade and Han seem to understand; it’s filled with vibrance, movement, and emotion. A drop of rain, a carp in the pond, a day at the beach with surrounding waves; these are the times that Amélie lives her fullest life. Her range of emotions knows no bounds, and with each new day, she rises and falls with what’s happening around her.
It’s a gorgeous piece of animation to consume. It envelopes the viewer, providing a casing similar to the bubble Amélie lives in for her first two years. The story doesn’t necessarily shelter its audience, but it isn’t a film of violence, even if it might be one of pain. Amélie’s nanny, with whom she has a deep relationship, explains the war to her in simple terms, speaking of bombs as she cooks dinner. The film remains firmly through the girl’s eyes, unwilling to speak directly to its likely adult audience. The directors aim to craft a world that emphasizes the wonder existing in every corner of the world. And that’s what makes Little Amélie so warm and tender.
Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is thorough in its commitment to sweetness, but it takes time to address the darkness around its tiny heroine. She feels the extreme loss of her grandmother’s death, her nanny walking out the door, and her father leaving for two months. She’s joyful, angry, surprised, excited, annoyed, everything in between. The film is a reminder of living inside of each moment, seeing the world in bright pastels, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer excitement of the world. By the end, Amélie realizes that she isn’t a god. It’s better than that; she’s alive.
Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is now in theaters.