Amelie

By Rick Curnutte

Richard A. Curnutte, Jr. is the Editor of The Film Journal. He has studied English and Film at Ohio University and The Ohio State University. He is a founding member of the Central Ohio Film Critics Association and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.

Jean-Pierre Jeunet's sugary-sweet ode to a pixieish do-gooder named Amelie is a visual wonder, but leaves something to be desired on the narrative side. Early on, I was drawn in by Amelie's exploits (the victim of a strange childhood, to say the least, she becomes a kind of invisible patron saint for riff-raff), but as her romance dragged on and on, I wondered whether there was really any point to it all. Apparently the moral is that if you do nice things for people, sensitive men will follow you all over the city to win your heart.

Leaving a bit of the sarcasm behind, Amelie is entertaining to a point, but the whole thing is just so drippy at times that it can't seem to hold the weight of its own ideas. Audrey Tautou is cute as a button, but her titular heroine is simply too much of a "good" thing.

Still, Jeunet's photographic palette is as exquisity as ever, and a great many of Amelie's exploits are wondrous, such as when she rushes a blind man through a busy street, describing everything for him in minute detail, then leaving him just as abruptly to soak it all in. And her little revenges against a bitter street vendor are truly a delight to watch unfold.

I just wish the filmmakers could have decided whether to make an idea film or a fairy tale. As it is, Amelie is nothing more than the sum of it parts, parts which could have added up to so much more.