Non-Stop Shenanigans from Jeunet

I've only ever adored anything that was born in the imagination of French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet. From the seedy dark delights of Delicatessen to the whimsical romantic giddiness of Amelie, Jeunet never fails to delight me. So it was a given that I'd fall for his newest film, Micmacs à Tire-Larigot, a phrase impossible to translate, but roughly meaning "non-stop shenanigans".

Like much of his work, the world created in this film is a saturated one, filled with magical realism and exaggerated caricatures. Micmacs is an unabashedly silly romp liberally dusted with joyful subversion, with an improbable plot about arms dealers getting come-uppance from a merry band of misfits.

Jeunet masterfully weaves his fairy-tale to feel like found-object assemblage art ~ visually enchanting, a finished piece that is so much more than the sum of its junkyard parts. The soundtrack is also lovingly chosen to win my heart, with a distinctive gypsy jazz feel sprinkled with mechanical sounds that add quirk and flavor.

Like one long Rube-Goldberg-esque sequence of related events, the film comes together perfectly in the end. Although nothing can ever top the glory of City of Lost Children, which consistently makes my top ten movies of all time list, I'd highly recommend this one to anyone who likes films of marauding and merriment. And who doesn't, really?