MICMACS

As MICMACS unfolds, a character has a moment of true epiphany. Like many such moments in the movies, the classical score starts to swell as the look of clarity washes over the protagonist’s face. The difference is that in this film…the film is cheeky enough to sit a full orchestra behind the protagonist, and have them play that swelling score in the shot.

Some films might not survive such a blatantly self-aware moment of winking at the audience. But in a story that includes the traffic of famous body parts, the pursuit of a human cannonball world record, and a contortionist that likes to hang out in a fridge….it’s just one more moment of absurdity.

MICMACS is primarily the story of Bazil (Dany Boon). When Dany was a child, his father was killed by a landmine. Many years later as a grown up, Bazil is caught in the head by a stray bullet – one the doctors decide to leave in to avoid further complications. When he emerges from the hospital, he discovers that his job has been filled and his apartment has been rented out. Rough day!

While trying to eek out a living as a street performer, Bazil is adopted into a an oddball band of brothers who scour the local dumps for usable scraps. The cast of characters include a human cannonball, an eccentric who only seems to ever speak in cliches, an inventor of various sources of innocent joy, and a contortionist.

As Bazil begins to find his place, he happens upon the headquarters of two munitions companies. One designed the landmine that killed Bazil’s father, the other designed the bullet lodged in Bazil’s head. Inspired to reap some overdue justice, Bazil plots to destroy them both. Or more to the point – he plots to have them destroy each other…

…and his newfound friends are only too happy to help.

As a film, Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s MICMACS truly follows in the footsteps of Bazil’s mental walkabout. It’s early scenes have charm, but seem to be aimlessly wandering in search of inspiration. Even once he meets his new circle of friends, the film still seems stuck in the mud…though now with a bit more whimsy. In what might be a neat co-incidence, it’s only after Bazil decides to trust his fellow freaks that the movie truly finds its way.

At that point, what was once just disjointed moments of sweet oddities gel into something much more endearing. We leave the fairy tale of circus freaks aside, and instead draw on the best things about these characters for one of the more original revenge films ever created. Bazil takes what first seems to be a motley crew of misfits, and hatches plan after plan that uses their eccentric talents like clockwork.

Perhaps his only more impressive, is the way he’s able to use his enemies’ greed against them. The scheme’s every step is based on their every want. In that way, he gets them to lean into the very punch he is about to throw. In a way, Bazil shares a few things in common with Jeunet’s most famous protagonist, Amélie. They both have a knack for devising some truly inspired bouts of mischief. Miss Poulain would likely be impressed by Bazil’s talent for just desserts…but might likewise be put off by the fact that they are largely self-serving.

While MICMACS is unlikely to capture audiences’ imagination the way that AMELIE did, the film is still a wonderful offering for the amount of pure expressionism on display. Every gesture…every prat fall…every widened eye that Jeunet coaxes out of these actors stops just shy of over-selling. It leaves us, is in a rare place: somewhere between zeal and insanity, a spot where we’re laughing with these characters…not just at them.

Like Bazil himself, Jeunet deserves quite a bit of credit for taking what could just be a jumble of slapstick madness and giving it purpose (I haven’t even mentioned the witty payoff of the whole caper). This movie succeeds because of the eccentric characters, and not just in spite of them.

Matineescore: ★ ★ ★ out of ★ ★ ★ ★

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