My Life As a Courgette

My Life As a Courgette
By Claude Barras
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Cannes Film Review: ‘My Life as a Courgette’
Peter Debruge
Leave it to a French-language stop-motion film to cut closer to the reality of the
orphan experience than “Annie,” “Matilda” or any number of like-minded live-action
melodramas have over the years — assuming, of course, you can get past the
whimsical fact that its parentless wretch sports blue hair and a potato-shaped
noggin. Adapted from the Gilles Paris YA novel by France’s most youth-savvy
screenwriter, Celine Sciamma (“Tomboy,” “Girlhood”), Swiss director Claude Barras’
“My Life as a Courgette” tells a simple story simply, drawing its power from point of
view, as a troubled 9-year-old recounts his stint in a group home following the death
of his alcoholic mother.
Named Icare at birth, but preferring to be called “Courgette” (French for “zucchini”)
for sentimental reasons, the poor kid looks like he might be the long-lost brother of
the similarly cobalt-coiffed Coraline, seen in Henry Selick’s far-darker stop-motion
movie of the same name. Courgette isn’t nearly as expressive as Coraline was, his
facial dynamics effectively limited to rolling his wide-set owl eyes and flexing his tiny
Play-Doh mouth, though Sciamma’s script supplies whatever subtlety might be
missing in Barras’ relatively rudimentary style in the genre, which is impressive enough
for someone whose next-longest project ran less than eight minutes.
True to the children’s novel that inspired it, Sciamma’s screenplay takes its naive
young protagonist’s view of the world, repeatedly introducing tough concepts in
understated ways, as when father-figure cop Raymond delicately probes for details
on Courgette’s family situation without exposing his deepest fear — namely that the
boy inadvertently killed his mom trying to protect himself during one of her drunken
rages. Now, remanded to the Fontaines group home, his only souvenir of her is an
empty beer can.
The traumatized kid has even less to remember his long-gone dad, whom he
imagines dressed in green underpants and blue superhero cape, surrounded by
giant hens — although grown-ups will have no trouble perceiving his
misunderstanding, since the rascal clearly abandoned his family to chase “chicks.”
Such is the life Courgette left behind, though he soon finds that the other kids at
Fontaines had equally tough childhoods: Ahmed’s dad was arrested for robbing a
convenience store, Alice’s father was taken away for inappropriate behavior, and
newcomer Camille (on whom Courgette develops an instant crush) was witness to
her parents’ murder-suicide.
This is not the stuff of which kids’ movies are typically made, and while “My Life as a
Courgette” falls into that zone of animation that’s mature enough for adults to
appreciate, it deals frankly with the facts of life in a way that neither condescends to
nor scars younger audiences. At the same time, the story tends to resolve obstacles a
bit too easily, whether that means winning over orphanage bully Simon or finding a
convenient way for Courgette and Camille to remain together after they’ve
outgrown Fontaines.
Had the modest animated project not premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, where
it will inevitably attract cineaste champions to tub-thump in territories that would
otherwise have been completely out of reach (including the U.S.), the 66-minute
feature might well have disappeared into the void of European TV. While it
superficially resembles a certain strain of preschool programming, Barras’ stylized
stop-motion sets it apart from the great glut of CG cartoons, taking its time where
digital animation so often tends to be hyperkinetic.
From its gentle guitar soundtrack to the quietly observant way the film shares
Courgette’s solitude — and, in time, participates in his newfound friendships —
Barras’ movie demonstrates the same qualities expected of responsible parents: It
bothers to notice how Courgette actually feels. He’s allowed to be melancholy, and
at times, the movie feels as blue as the bags under his eyes, the emotional
equivalent of spending the recess hour staring out a rain-streaked window.
Capturing and conveying that mood without lapsing into downbeat or depressive
territory is harder than it sounds, but “My Life as a Courgette” finds that balance.
Though brightly colored and appealingly designed, its lightly damaged characters
bear the crooked noses and never-explained facial scars of their well-worn
childhoods — external evidence of all that they have been through at their young
age. But they find levity in their days as well, whether speculating about where
babies come from or holding an indoor snowball fight. And when all else fails, Barras
cuts to an adorable squirrel or freshly hatched nest of songbirds to win back our
sympathies. On one hand, the cartoon is never afraid to be cute, but more
importantly, it’s committed to being real.
Switzerland: Up Next! Claude Barras
Emilio Mayorga
Barras’ debut plays Directors- Fortnight, segues to Annecy
Debuting at Cannes Directors’ Fortnight then competing at Annecy, the awaited
“My Life as a Courgette” is the first animated feature of Swiss tooner Claude Barras.
Having snagged Annexe’s Work in Progress prize last year, “Courgette” has scored
early and promising pre-sales, with Vertigo Media for Hungary, Folkets Bio for Sweden, and Cineart for Benelux.
The toon feature centres on Zucchini, a 10-year-old boy who ends up in an orphanage after his mother’s death.
Films inevitably echoes Francois Truffaut’s “The 400 Blows.” Barras revealed that JeanPierre Leaud, who will receive this year’s Palme d’honneur and stars in Albert Serra’s
Cannes-selected “The Death of Louis XIV,” inspired the “Courgette” teaser.
However, “the pattern has been reversed: abuse is suffered in the outside world and
the orphanage is a place of appeasement and reconstruction,” Barras explained.
“Courgette” is a stop-motion tooner made with puppets about 10” high that were
handcrafted with latex foam for the hair, silicone for the arms, resin for the face, and
fabric for the hand-sewn clothing.
“For me, there is a close, obvious relationship between the background social realism
of the subject and the very concrete shape of the top-motion animation, rooted in
the material reality of the shooting. It is a very demanding technique as, unlike digital
techniques, we cannot change anything after shooting,” Barras said.
“We can say that this is a childhood film rather than a children’s film, a melodrama
on childhood full of emotion and humor, a social realist animated feature,” he added.
“Courgette” is co-produced by Geneva’s Rita Productions, Monaco’s KNM, Angouleme and Montreal-based Blue Spirit Animation and Lyon’s Gebeka Films, with the
support of Radio Télévision Suisse & la SSR SRG, Rhône-Alpes Cinéma, and France 3
cinéma. It is based on Gilles Paris’ novel and penned by Celine Sciamma (“Tomboy,”“Girlhood,” a 2014 Directors’ Fortnight).
Paris’ novel is written in the first person. “The little hero asks simple and deep, loving
and naïf questions about the harshness of adult world. In the film, I did not want a
voice over because I wanted to be in the here-and-now. We have also chosen to
move away from the episodic structure of the novel to build a more classical dramatic arch. We have also broadened the public to take in children,” the young Swiss
helmer observed.
Geneva-based Barras has directed several shorts including “Au Pays des tetes,”
“Stigmates 2D,” “Chambre 69,” and “The Genie in a Ravioli Can.” He also has produced other works –those from Jadwiga Kowalska, Emilien Davaud, Lynn Devillaz
and Antonio Veiras,– through his Lausanne label Helium Films, co-founded with helmer and illustrator Cédric Louis. Their aim is to back young Swiss animation talent.
“Courgette” international sales are handled by Paris-based Indie Sales “My Life as a
Courgete”will be released in France on Oct. 19 via Gebeka Films, and in Switzerland
courtesy of Praesens-Film. Cinéart will release it in the Netherlands.
On the horizon? “I would like to produce and co-produce shorts through our stopmotion studio Helium. And I am developing my second feature, a stop-motion targeting young audiences. It will turn on the disappearance of the last wild spaces and
the last free people. It may be entitled ‘Sauvages.’”
'My Life As A Courgette': Cannes Review
15 May, 2016 | By Lisa Nesselson
A compact triumph of stop-motion animation in the service of a bittersweet tale, My
Life As A Courgette (My Vie de Courgette) is as delightful as it is affecting. The story
of a few months in the life of a 10-year-old orphan who believes he is responsible for
the death of his alcoholic mother, Courgette sustains a tone that acknowledges
that life is a blend of good news and bad but that kindness and compassion can cut
through a great deal of soul-crushing adversity. Acquisitions should be brisk following
the film’s debut in Cannes Directors Fortnight.
His real name is Icare but he insists on being called by the nickname his mother gave
him. When kindly policeman Raymond drives Courgette to the orphanage, the
understandably melancholy boy’s only possessions are an empty beer can and a
kite he built and decorated himself. Courgette is gifted at drawing — the walls of his
garret room served as his canvas until his mother’s unfortunate accident — and his
charming sketches are frequent props as the story progresses.
The well-defined orphans fit at one table. Simon is the self-appointed tough guy. One
little girl’s mother was deported back to Africa while she was at school. Another little
girl is prey to obsessive tics. One little boy is curious about what adult couples do
together in bed. Simon’s description is a classic kid’s-level interpretation of sexual
congress. And one brief narratively-justified element is a “Basic Instinct for 10-YearOlds” moment.
The small staff couldn’t be more encouraging or devoted. Raymond comes to visit
when he can, even though his status as a cop means he’s subject to pranks.
Courgette’s outlook brightens when 10-year-old Camille arrives by court order.
Courgette’s first stirrings of love may be thwarted by the hiss-worthy aunt jockeying to
get custody of her niece. The orphans devise a plan to interfere.
A board where each young resident can post his or her emotional “weather” each
day, from angry storm to sunny is incredibly basic but it’s the complexity of the
feelings experienced by articulated puppets with impossibly large heads that gives
the film — three years in the making despite its brief running time — its undeniable
beauty.
The Ghost Train ride at an amusement park and the group’s adventures on a trip to
play in the snow are visual highlights.
Screenwriter Céline Sciamma splendidly adapted the source book. Manipulating
wonderful sets and touching protagonists, director Claude Barras delivers the
message that tragedy needn’t determine the rest of a young person’s life.
By European standards, this is probably suitable for ages eight and up. But it is not a
pure distraction in the manner of so much fare aimed at young people. Think Bambi.
The themes are serious and handled with grace and humor. All but the most
hardened adult hearts will be moved.
'My Life as a Courgette' ('Ma Vie de Courgette'):
Cannes Review
5/15/2016 by Boyd van Hoeij
The first stop-motion animated feature from Swiss-born director Claude Barras is
based on a novel by Gilles Paris and was adapted for the screen by Celine Sciamma
('Girlhood,' 'Being 17').
A timid 9-year-old boy with blue hair and eyes as big as ping pong balls ends up in
an orphanage in My Life as a Courgette (Ma Vie de Courgette), the stop-motion
animated film and feature debut from Swiss-born director Claude Barras. This lovingly
told and gorgeously rendered story is based on French novelist Gilles Paris’s
Autobiography of a Courgette and yes, that means that the pint-sized protagonist is
nicknamed after a summer squash. Though not as dark as the book that inspired it,
nor as directly critical of the French welfare state — it’s never even quite clear which
country the film is set in — this tale of a shy kid who ends up with other orphaned
misfits after causing the accidental death of his alcoholic mother is nonetheless not
exactly a tale for all ages. That said, savvy distributors who know how to market highend animated films to older audiences should get some decent mileage out of this
Courgette. Without a doubt the biggest coup for the film and first-time feature
director Barras was to land French auteur Celine Sciamma as the screenwriter, since
her own movies (Girlhood, Tomboy and Water Lillies, all essential) and her
screenwriting collaboration with Andre Techine on his recent Being 17 — also
essential — have one thing in common: they are vividly realized, finger-on-the-pulse
looks at the growing pains of youngsters. Though this film is animated and she’s
adapting already existing material rather than writing something from scratch, it’s
impossible not to recognize her delicately observant touch, from the gawky humor
so typical of adolescence to the way in which children on the brink of adulthood
learn in fits and starts, as if early adolescence were a testing ground for adult
behavior.
Given that his real name is Icare (i.e., Icarus) but he’s not the kind to proudly ignore
useful warnings about flying too close to the sun, it’s probably a good thing
Courgette (voice of Gaspard Schlatter) can fall back on his much more innocentsounding nickname. That said, even that name comes with some emotional
baggage. After Courgette has accidentally caused the death of his alcoholic
mother, he tells a kind, mustachioed policeman, Raymond (Michel Vuillermoz), that
he wants to be called Courgette since it’s one of the very few things that he’s got
left that his mother gave him (in an economical yet very effective masterstroke, one
of the others is an empty beer can he’s taken with him).
The bulk of this slender, 66-minute film is set at an orphanage where he’s dropped off
by the kind Raymond and where he hesitantly gets to know his peers. They include
the bigmouthed leader, Simon (Paulin Jaccoud); the quiet, dinosaur-loving Ahmed
(Elliot Sanchez); the shy Alice (Estelle Hennard), always hiding behind her hair, and
the football-loving tough girl Camille (Sixtine Murat), who says what she thinks.Their
adventures at the orphanage and on a trip to the mountains where they get to play
in the snow, are the stuff of countless children’s tales. What sets Courgette apart is
the constant attention to how each incident and experience influences and builds
character, which is how these children can slowly ease themselves into their future
grown-up selves. Thus, Raymond’s warmth and kindness toward Courgette reestablishes his faith in adults, while the dynamic between Simon and Courgette goes
from defensively testy — Simon insists on calling him “Potato” — to something more
complex and real. The subplot involving the protagonist’s growing feelings for
Camille could have used a bit more work, however, especially given where they’ll
finally end up as the film draws to a close. That said, a sequence in which the two
have an honest heart-to-heart under a starry sky is one of the feature’s highlights,
even if their dialogue sounds more adult-like than their respective 9 and 10 years of
age (the fact they’ve gone through a lot before becoming orphans might have
something to do with that).
Clearly, My Life as a Courgette either sinks or soars based on how involved viewers
will become in the story. Given that there’s a lot of offscreen hurt for a lot of the
preteen characters but that their faces are made of plasticine, what Barras has
achieved here is nothing short of a miracle. The figures all have large heads with
equally large eyes — they look like ping pong balls with irises glued on — ensuring
that even a medium shot can be very expressive and convey a lot of emotion. To
further direct initial attention to the faces, the characters have tiny, wiry bodies that
are nattily dressed, again with a great eye for detail.
Art director Valentin Rotelli’s sets are all painstakingly made, uncluttered but with
carefully selected key details to make sure they feel properly lived in and in colors
that go from weathered tones to increasingly sunny hues as the story progresses and
the locations change. They also benefit from the gorgeous, drama-enhancing
lighting from Seoul-born Belgian cinematographer Kim Keukeleire, whose credits
include work on recent stop-motion films such as Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr Fox
and Tim Burton’s Frankenweenie. If there’s one thing that Barras should pay more
attention to when he’ll go on to make his next feature, it’s that for the moment, the
overall look and mise-en-scene never quite scream “cinema,” as Courgette retains
an intimate register that would work just as well on home-format screens. But to
follow in the footsteps of the orphans, who use a weather board to suggest what
mood they are in on any given day by selecting a weather condition (sunny, cloudy,
thunderstorms…), this critic would definitely rate this film “sunny” for the soul
My Life as a Courgette: A tender look at the darkest
of childhoods
by Fabien Lemercier
15/05/2016 - CANNES 2016: Claude Barras has made an accomplished feature
debut with his delicate, moving and original stop-motion animation adopting a
positive approach to a dark topic – the harshest of childhoods
My Life as a Courgette: A tender look at the darkest of childhoods
“We are all alike; there’s no one left to love us.” The Les Fontaines orphanage is
home to seven ten-year-old children: the endearing protagonists in Swiss filmmaker
Claude Barras’ stunning My Life as a Courgette [+], an animated feature debut,
outstanding thanks to both its subject matter and its approach to it, which was
unveiled in the Directors’ Fortnight at the 69th Cannes Film Festival.
The quiet Courgette, whose real name is Icarus, has never met his father and sets off
for Les Fontaines, his kite under his arm, following his alcoholic mother’s accidental
death. In the orphanage, which is sequestered away from the city, he meets and
learns about each of his partners in misfortune. Simon’s parents are constantly on
drugs, Ahmed’s father is in prison after holding up a service station, Jujube’s mother
has reached a very advanced stage of chronic-depressive delirium, while Bea’s
mum has been deported to Africa, and Alice still has nightmares about the
“disgusting things” her father did. As for the pretty Camille, under whose charm
Courgette instantly falls, she was present as her father killed her mother, before
taking his own life, and “her eyes show that she saw it all”.
As such, the short lives of these seven children are summed up by their precocious
encounter with the world’s cruelty, meaning that it would have been easy for them
to be created as part of the darkest vein of cinematic social realism. However, it’s a
much different path, both softer and brighter, along which director Barras chose to
walk with Céline Sciamma (proving the aptness of her writing following the trio of
films about adolescence she worked on as a director: Water Lilies [+], Tomboy [+]
and Girlhood [+]), as they adapted Gilles Paris’ novel Autobiography of a Courgette.
Contrary to the popular paradigm of portraying orphanages as places of
aggravated abuse, as in Oliver Twist, Les Fontaines is a haven of peace, conducive
to reconstruction, tolerance and friendship. This positive approach to the darkness of
the past definitely does not make light of those events, as the wounds, which rocked
these children to their core, are still present and bubble up to the surface without
taking centre stage, mainly being expressed through silences and glances. As such,
the film has avoided falling into the trap of over-dramatisation, skilfully dealing with
topics with hard-hitting consequences (emotional emptiness, foster families, custodial
rights, adoption, etc) and even more tactfully showing the simplicity of its poetic
stance, which is fed by tender empathy and benevolent humour.
My Life as a Courgette is a calm representation with strong emotional potential
thanks to its astounding mastery of stop-motion animation and the fact it toys
marvellously with the contrast between these highly stylised “character-marionettes”
and the naturalism of the dialogues and voices. Broken up into sequence shots, the
film explores intimate topics far removed from those that have reigned supreme in
contemporary animated films, which are based on speed and the spectacular. In
the big, round eyes of Courgette and his friends, you can see their awareness of all
the bitter violence in the world mingle with the regenerative virtues of friendship as
well as the image of a better future, like a mirror for the viewers, who were all
children at one stage of their lives.
Cannes Review: Claude Barras’ Animated Drama
‘My Life As A Courgette’ Is A Simple Beauty
Jordan Ruimy May 23, 2016
One of the unequivocal delights of this year’s 69th Cannes Film Festival was
discovering director Claude Barras‘ “My Life as a Courgette,” a 66-minute stopmotion animation treat. The film, depicting a few months in the life of an orphan
named Courgette who still feels responsible for the death of his alcoholic mother cuts
to the heart in the most non-manipulative kind of way. It’s a keeper.
What else but first love can lift you back up and drown your sorrows away. That’s
what happens to Courgette, which actually is French for zucchini, when a 10 yearold girl by the name of Camille arrives at his orphanage by court order. His deeply
bruised heart melts, and so will yours. Trouble comes in the form of Courgette’s hissyfit aunt, who is trying to get custody, much to the dismay of her niece. That’s when
the fun starts, and the kids at the orphanage decide to take matters in their own
hands.
The titular’s boy’s real name is Icare, but he wants to be called by the nickname his
mother gave him. The foster home he lives in is one that will likely feel familiar to
cinephiles as it includes many of the stereotypical tropes that would appear in such
milieus. Yet, it also feels fresh because the visuals, Barras’ second to none graphic
design, and art director Ludovic Chemarin‘s sets have immaculate attention to
detail, are sumptuous and feel beautifully homegrown.
Premiering as part of Cannes Directors’ Fortnight, the tough subject matter doesn’t
detract from the fact that the picture and its poignant elements make for an
unadorned delight. Adapted from a young adult novel by French screenwriter
Celine Sciamma (“Tomboy,” “Girlhood”), who has been on a roll lately tackling
darkly-themed coming of age dramas, “My Life As a Courgette” seems to be sprung
from the deepest tanks of the creative mind.
Although this isn’t necessarily new territory for Sciamma, she still has to devise a
screenplay that, unlike her previous efforts, could be seen by both kiddies and adults.
Tricky business, which sometimes makes the film shift gears a little too abruptly.
The themes constructed by Barras and Sciamma are in fact very serious, but that
shouldn’t stop kids from seeing it. In the same way as “Bambi” dealt with the loss of a
parent, this film deals with tragedy in the most universal but touching of ways. A
particularly well-realized moment happens when Camille and Courgette ponder
their fates as the starry night sky, beautifully imagined by its creators, touches down
on them. The figures that Barras creates have large heads, equally large eyes, and
tiny bodies. This enhances the viewer’s attention to their expressive eyes, which are
heavily used to dictate the emotional state of the orphans. It’s a well-thought out
schema that pays off for the emotional response one might have to the characters’
fates.
What one takes away from “My Life As a Courgette” might be a casually simple and
forward affair, but a deeper, more considered look at Barras’ moving tale reveals an
emotional resonance and non-saccharine uplift that is mostly rare in today’s
animation world. Consider it a diamond in the rough.
My Life as a Courgette – first look
A big film in a small package: Claude Barras’s children’s animation, written by
Girlhood’s Céline Sciamma, broaches downbeat themes with charm, heart and
smarts.
Wendy Ide
An achingly melancholy stop-motion animation about childhood tragedy,
abandonment and the malleable nature of family, My Life as a Courgette effectively
tears up the rulebook for children’s cinema. Eschewing the frenetic pacing and
upbeat themes of mainstream family entertainment, the film, which was penned by
Céline Sciamma and is based on a book by Gilles Paris, takes a pensive, unhurried
route and has an astute ear for the concerns of kids.
Courgette is the nickname bestowed on ten-year-old Icare by his alcoholic mother.
After her accidental death, he clings to it. Along with one of her empty beer cans,
the nickname is the only souvenir he has of a period of his life which is now over
forever. His name, along with the fact that he is the new boy at the orphanage,
marks Courgette out as a target for bullying from the self appointed ‘chief’ of the
institution, red-headed tough guy Simon.
Visits from Raymond, the kindly policeman who handled his case, take the edge off
Courgette’s unhappiness in his new home. And then another new child arrives: Camille is cool, assured and her presence seems to bring hope and cohesion to the inmates of the home. Courgette and Camille become firm friends. And Courgette’s
drawings, which are incorporated as a narrative device in the film, take on a brighter, more optimistic tone. A meteorological display board, on which each of the
children can choose their ‘emotional weather’ every day, seems sunnier for
everyone since Camille’s arrival.
An animation style that evokes the oversized heads and shadowy, sad eyes of Tim
Burton’s signature cartoon characters, and excellent voice work from the young nonprofessional cast, gives these claymation characters a persuasive range of
expression. Director Claude Barras navigates a careful tonal path, avoiding
mawkishness but never shying away from the emotional body blows which make this
such a potent, if pint-sized experience.
Particularly effective is a sequence in which all of the children from the residential
home are taken on a weekend trip to the mountains to see the snow. But they are
more fascinated by the families they witness at the resort. Seven pairs of unblinking
eyes stare longingly at a mother gently comforting her weeping son. Also rather poignant is Courgette and Camille’s trip to the fair with Raymond. Camille’s proficiency
at a balloon-shooting sideshow gives a hint of her violent backstory.
The de facto family unit is threatened by Camille’s aunt, who wants to take custody
of her niece and of the financial support awarded by the state. The threat is dealt
with, ingeniously, by the children. But in the film’s bittersweet conclusion, not
everyone gets to stay together forever. The message of this picture, however, is that
one tragedy doesn’t necessarily define a life – a lesson for all ages, not just the older
children and teens who will be the most receptive audience for this beautifully
judged little gem.
My Life as a Courgette – first look review
This stunning stop-motion animation set in an orphanage is as witty and insightful as it
is quietly shocking.
Watch any standard issue kids film and you’ll quickly notice that behind most of the
lies is a rather negative and limiting perception of what cinema and visual art made
for children can and should be. Conceived of as cheesy, naive, and aggressively
positive-minded, the production consensus seems to be that the art form should
anxiously work to shelter children’s innocence from the disappointments and
violence of real life.
Precisely because it is set in the world of a real orphanage, this Céline Sciammapenned claymation inevitably disobeys those principles. Yet My Life as a Courgette
remains wholeheartedly a film suitable for children – in the sense that kids could
watch and enjoy it – even though so many of its pleasures lie in an appeal to adults
and their understanding of pre-teen melancholy. The film engages with difficult and
painful topics such as mortality, child abuse, alcoholism and trauma. Yet far from
revelling in misery and testing the limits of the bearable, it instead explores the
constructive ways kids can deal with the terrible situations thrust upon them.
We follow nine-year-old Icare – nicknamed Courgette – who moves to the
orphanage Les Fontaines after accidentally killing his alcoholic, violent mother in selfdefence. There he meets several other children, including the redhead Simon, who
acts like the ruthless, cruel boss of the place. However, the two boys soon becomes
friends when Simon realises that Courgette is not afraid of or impressed by his bullying
acts. In a disarmingly moving, low-key scene, Simon matter-of-factly details to
Courgette the troubled circumstances of the other orphans, who each respond to
their trauma in various ways; Simon is angry, Ahmed wets the bed, Alice is shy.
Simon’s bluntness when he tells these stories subtly underlines the fact that these
children are not shocked by violence anymore. The film does not dwell on the drama
of child abuse itself, but rather with the people living in its shadow.
Although the film does linger on the tragic circumstances of these orphaned
children, it crucially does not see this as the end game for them – far from it. The frank
manner in which they discuss their past but also love and sex – with their own childish
words – is a touching reminder of the unbreakable optimism and energy that still lies,
even if sometimes dormant, in children. Surrounded by benevolent adults working in
the orphanage, they are taken seriously, and progressively come to feel safe and
happy together, gradually shedding their defence mechanisms. Courgette even
finds a real friend in the middle-aged cop who brought him to the orphanage and
still visits him outside of work hours. The children are not presented as completely,
unrealistically “fixed”, however. They still wet their beds or call for their absent of
deceased mothers. But they learn to live with their problems, accepting each other’s
unusual behaviours without mockery.
Brutally unsentimental in parts, My Life as a Courgette does not pretend that the
world is a fair place where everything always turns out to be fine for everybody.
Rather this supremely humane and moving film concludes that kindness and
courage can help one do the only thing that is truly possible: make the best out of
the situation.
Cannes 2016: My Life as a Courgette Review
By Jo-Ann Titmarsh
Claude Barras makes his feature debut with the intriguingly titled My Life as a Courgette. The story is based on the book by Gilles Barras and has been beautifully
adapted for the screen by Celine Sciamma (the director of Girlhood and Tomboy).
Sciamma obviously has an ear for children and teens, for this is a wonderful screenplay that rings true. Combined with Barras’ delicate direction, this is joy to watch
despite its heartbreaking subject matter.
Courgette is a nine-year-old boy who lives with his beer-swilling mum. He spends
much of his time out of her way, up in the loft from where he flies his homemade kite.
After an unfortunate accident, Courgette finds himself orphaned and sent to the
children’s home. Here he meets a motley crew of kids who are defined by their individual quirks and their own unique domestic horror stories which range from drug
addicted parents to paedophile dads via deportees and armed robbers. Thus the
home is filled with broken survivors, whose ringleader is the redhead Simon. At first
glance, he’s your regular bullyboy as seen in so many children’s stories from Tom
Brown’s Schooldays to Harry Potter. But Simon’s tough guy exterior is his armour and
he soon reveals his true colours.
While this sickening and sad storyline is not what you expect from a children’s animated movie it works surprisingly well. And if you thought there could not possibly be
any laughs, you’d be very wrong, for this film is often as hilarious as it is heart wrenching. The film plays on the innocence of children, so when Raymond the kindly police officer asks Courgette why he has drawn a man on one side of his kite and a hen
on the other, Courgette replies that it’s his dad and his mum says his dad really likes
chicks. Then there is the orphan Jujube, who is convinced a man’s penis will explode
after sex. This is thanks to misunderstanding his first sex education lesson from Simon,
who gained all his knowledge from watching his parents’ DVDs.
Barras’ film is no catalogue of disasters, either. Far from continuing Courgette’s tortures, once he is out of his own home, almost every adult he comes across is kind
and has his interests at heart. And thank heavens for that, for the audience would
struggle to witness any more pain in these children’s lives.
The stop-motion animation looks beautiful and there are parallels with Tim Burton’s
The Corpse Bride, for the characters have enormous eyes, wispy limbs and are of a
slightly deathly pallor. Like that film, Barras tackles a difficult subject for a child and
does so with immense tenderness and skill. The genius of this animation is in making
these very unrealistic faces portray very real emotions, particularly the expressive
eyes. There is also something of Peppa Pig here with the same very basic-looking
cars, while the orphanage setting looks like it’s been drawn from a board game like
Cat Attack. But of course behind that apparent simplicity lies amazing technique:
some of the loveliest animation appears when the kids take a trip to the mountains
to see the snow.
Barras has bravely tackled an almost taboo subject and made it palatable and
manageable for children and adults alike. His film could be a catalyst for
conversations and perhaps revelations, showing children that whatever they are
suffering there are people who will help and that all is not lost. At just over an hour
long, it might have problems screening at cinemas, but it would be a damn shame if
this film didn’t get the distribution it so deserves.
FLICKFEAST
CANNES 2016 – My Life As A Courgette (2016)
Written by James McAllister
Roughly half of the films competing in the Official Competition at this year’s Cannes
Film Festival clock-in at close to or longer than 2-and-a-half-hours in length. And yet
on every level My Life As A Courgette, a 66-minute masterpiece made by Swiss director Claude Barras, is likely to achieve more than any of those films could ever dream
of.
Taken from a literary tale by French writer and journalist Gilles Paris, we first meet
young Courgette (Gaspard Schlatter) as he plays in his room; building a kite and
crafting a tower out of drinks cans. His beautiful blue locks are what first capture our
attention, but what quickly pulls our gaze are the thin lines around his eyes that light
up against his pale complexion. Courgette’s childhood is lonely – said cans are the
empty beer tins collected from the floor that surrounds his alcoholic single mother,
who sits in almost permanent stasis on the sofa – but it’s one with which he is comfortable and content; his own suffering mentally masked by his active imagination.
Things change, however, after his mother is killed in an abrupt accident.
Adopting a similar animated style to that of Max Lang & Jakob Schuh’s The Gruffolo,
Barras’ simple but stunning stop-motion carries a childish innocence that conveys the
emotive crux of the film. This is a tale of tragedy seen through the eyes of someone
who, though he may not be old enough to comprehend everything he experiences,
is able to understand far more than we are likely to give him credit for; the longing
and sadness in Courgette’s heart amplified through the softly shattering strings of Sophie Hunger’s gentle score.
Forced to go and live at Fontaines foster home, Courgette soon finds himself having
to try and connect with other children who are as damaged & isolated as he is.
These include Alice, whose father was taken away from her because of “inappropriate behaviour”, Camille, a witness to her own parent’s murder-suicide, and Simon,
a bequiffed bully whose home life was broken by his dad’s drug addiction.
The script, written by Girlhood and Tomboy director Céline Sciamma, is never afraid
to confront such provocative material head-on, but strikingly, it refuses to bow to
convention in its approach; shunning melodrama and manipulation, and instead
favouring a measured melancholy so potent it has the power to slay you. “There’s no
one left to love us” says Simon pensively at one point – not since Pixar’s Up has an
animated film been so profusely affecting.
Crucially, there’s an intrinsic balance of humour to help soothe our aching hearts;
ranging from harmless adventures in the snow, to delightfully naïve discussions about
whether a man’s “willy explodes” when he’s doing “the thing”. And, perhaps most
importantly, as Courgette learns to look to the future whilst realising he should never
wholly let go of the past, there’s also a genuine air of hope, which cuts through the
underlying despair. Sure, it may be set in a world built with Plasticine, but My Life with
Courgette feels profoundly real.
HAYES AT THE MOVIES
Cannes Review – My Life as a Courgette
After the sudden death of Courgette’s (Gaspard Schlatter) mother, the nine year old
boy is sent to live in an orphanage with other children who have tragic lives. Courgette quickly befriends Simon (Paulin Jaccoud) and develops a crush on the new girl
Camille (Sixtine Murat). With the help of his friends, and Raymond (Michel Vuillermoz)
a police officer he has befriended, Courgette begins to overcome his tragic past,
and make a new future.
My Life as a Courgette, screening at Cannes in the Director’s Fortnight sidebar, is the
first stop motion animated film from Swiss director Claude Barras, based on a novel
by Gilles Paris called ‘Autobiography of a Courgette’.
A young boy with wide eyes and blue hair, Courgette is charmingly and emotionally
voiced by Gaspard Schlatter, who brings depth and heart to the character. The rest
of the child actors, including Paulin Jaccoud and Sixtine Murat make these idiosyncratic and warm characters come to life. The same can be said for the adult cast,
which includes Michel Vuillermoz, Natacha Koutchoumov and Véronique Montel.
The screenplay was adapted from Paris’ novel by Morgan Navarro and Germano
Zullo, with extra work done by the acclaimed writer of ‘Girlhood’, Céline Sciamma.
The team have made the story of Courgette a charming and warm one; it would
have been so easy for this story to become one of loss and despair – and these notes
are certainly hit throughout the film – but the entire film has a feeling of hope and
humour, especially when these 9 and 10 year old kids start asking one another about
sex, in all their innocence.
Director Claude Barras has created a beautiful world in My Life as a Courgette, with
everything being ever so slightly off kilter, be it in size or colour, but backs this up with
strong performances from the voice cast that add heart to this odd looking but
charming little film. With a running time of just over an hour, My Life as a Courgette
does not outstay its welcome, but hasplenty to say on the nature of hope. Stop motion animation is always beautiful to watch on screen, and this film is certainly no exception, with the physical animation making this story feel even more real.
In all, My Life as a Courgette is a beautifully animated, small story that has strong performances from the voice cast. The film has tons of heart, filled with charming characters and a strong message of hope for the future. A hidden gem t the Cannes Film
Festival that has gained popularity with word of mouth, this is one for adults and kids
alike.
Rating: 4/5
My Life as a Courgette: piccola animazione per
grandi emozioni
Antonio Cuomo
Un piccolo film in stop-motion cala un velo di malinconia sull'edizione 2016 della
Quinzaine des realizateurs di Cannes, lasciando gli spettatori sorridenti e commossi.
Quello dell'animazione è un mondo difficile, che richiede passione, dedizione,
sacrificio e tanta, tanta pazienza. Un mondo a volte ingrato, che a dispetto del
tanto impegno svolto può ripagare con poca visibilità e scarso riconoscimento,
soprattutto se questa immensa mole di lavoro non è svolta per grandi studios come
Disney Animation e Pixar o, almeno, la Laika che si sta ritagliando il suo spazio nel
settore. Se non si ha questa fortuna, l'unica sfogo per veder riconosciuti gli sforzi, di
veder apprezzato il proprio lavoro, è nell'ambito dei festival specializzati o, meglio
ancora, nelle grandi manifestazioni internazionali.
Per questo è importante per una produzione piccola come My Life as a Courgette,
in stop motion e con una lunga lavorazione alle spalle, trovare spazio nell'ambito
della Quinzaine des realizateurs dell'edizione 2016 del Festival di Cannes, dando la
possibilità ad un pubblico più ampio e meno settoriale di apprezzare la delicata e
toccante storia del suo protagonista e i suoi giovani amici, di applaudire, come
hanno fatto, per vari minuti sancendo il successo di un film che dopo questo passaggio a Cannes e l'attenzione ricevuta da pubblico e stampa internazionale potrà
trovare più facilmente una distribuzione nei principali mercati cinematografici.
Storia di una "Zucchina"
Icare è un bambino timido di 9 anni che preferisce rispondere al nome di Courgette
(zucchina) come era abituato ad essere chiamato dalla madre, una donna tendente all'alcolismo che passava le giornate davanti alla TV bevendo birra in lattina e
morta accidentalmente, proprio per colpa del bambino. Rimasto solo, Courgette
viene accolto in un piccolo orfanotrofio con una sola lattina di birra vuota come
legame con la sua vita passata, e là stringe amicizia con gli altri bambini che vivono
nella struttura, dal piccolo leader del gruppo Simon al riservato Ahmed, fino all'arrivo
di Camille che cambia gli equilibri tra il ragazzi. Tra gite in montagna sulla neve e
esperienze che contribuiscono a formare i caratteri e rinsaldare amicizie, le giornate
dei bambini trascorrono con il sogno di trovare una casa e una nuova famiglia.
Lo specchio dell'anima
Quello che in prima battuta colpisce di My Life as a Courgette è lo stile visivo eccentrico con cui sono realizzati i modelli dei personaggi, essenziale ma capace di caratterizzare ogni bambino con pochi tratti distintivi evidenti, mentre lo sfondo si mantiene minimale e tendente talvolta all'astratto, senza particolare attenzione ai particolari, badando piuttosto ad evocare le atmosfere della storia. Un dettaglio hanno,
però, in comune tutti i personaggi: grandi teste tonde con occhi altrettanto enormi.
Perché gli occhi sono lo specchio dell'anima e nel caso specifico rappresentano il
mezzo principale mediante il quale i personaggi del film esprimono le proprie intense
e spontanee emozioni. Se l'abilità nell'animare figure tanto semplici riesce a comunicare le reazioni di ogni bambino alle difficoltà della loro vita, il loro variabile stato
d'animo è rappresentato, anche narrativamente, con una tabella meteo degli ospiti
dell'orfanotrofio che, in modo basilare ma efficace, va dal sereno al temporale.
Lo sguardo da bambino
È solo un esempio del modo delicato, creativo e sognante con cui lo script di Céline
Sciamma adatta il romanzo di Gilles Paris dal quale Courgette è tratto: l'autrice ci
racconta la storia del piccolo Icare e dei suoi nuovi amici adottando il loro punto di
vista ingenuo e curioso dei fatti della vita. Pone domande, dà infantili risposte. Sogna
con tocco deliziosamente poetico. Un approccio narrativo che lo stile, al quale abbiamo già accennato, ma soprattutto la messa in scena delicata di Claude Barras
riescono a sottolineare con delicatezza e grazia, con menzione speciale per un paio
di trovate e sequenze che non possono non far lasciare un sorriso sul volto dello spettatore, coinvolto e colpito. , Come nel modo, per fare un ulteriore esempio, in cui il
piccolo protagonista rappresenta il padre nei suoi disegni: come un supereroe che
insegue i polli, perché la madre gli ha raccontato della sua attitudine ad andare
dietro le "pollastrelle" (chicks nei sottotitoli inglesi).
Quale pubblico per Courgette?
Se dobbiamo trovare un difetto a My Lige as a Courgette non è nel film in sé quanto
piuttosto nel suo potenziale pubblico: per la semplicità della sua struttura narrativa,
infatti, il film di Barras sarebbe perfetto per essere fruito ed apprezzato dagli spettatori più giovani, ma la maturità di alcuni momenti e temi, a cominciare dalle modalità
della morte della madre, lo rendono un film d'animazione più adatto ad essere capito ed apprezzato da un pubblico adulto. Una ambiguità che non pregiudica la qualità del film ed il nostro giudizio su di esso, ma potrebbero rendere più difficile la sua
distribuzione e promozione in alcuni paesi... tra i quali il nostro. Starà all'abilità di chi
ne deterrà i diritti riuscire a comunicare nel modo corretto le caratteristiche e le peculiarità di un film incantevole, convincendo il proprio pubblico a riempire le sale
che lo proietteranno. Noi, con questa recensione, speriamo di aver dato un piccolo
contributo
Le film suisse «Ma Vie de Courgette» enthousiasme
la Croisette
Antoine Duplan
Claude Barras représente la Suisse à Cannes avec un merveilleux film d’animation
en volume consacré à un gosse
Les deux projections publiques de Ma Vie de Courgette se sont conclues par des
standing ovations de plus de dix minutes. La productrice Pauline Gygax et le
réalisateur Claude Barras sont encore ébranlés par cette déferlantes d’amour
couronnant sept ans de travail. «C’est un moment précieux», dit-elle. «On se
regardait avec Céline (Sciamma, la scénariste), on n’en revenait pas de voir que le
film provoquait de telles émotions».
Courgette, c’est un petit gars qui a de grands yeux tristes dans une bouille ronde, le
pif rouge, le cheveu bleu et les oreilles décollées. Il n’a pas trop de chance. Son
papa est parti avec une poule et sa maman n’est pas commode. Elle siffle des
canettes devant la télé, elle met des roustes à son petiot. Elle tombe de l’escalier qui
mène au galetas et Courgette se retrouve dans un foyer avec quelques autres
gosses cabossés en voie de reconstruction.
Sans famille
Enfant, Claude Barras (Banquise, Le Génie de la Boîte de raviolis, Sainte-Barbe,
Chambre 89) a été touché par des histoires d’orphelins comme Les 400 Coups, Sans
Famille ou Bambi. Aujourd’hui, il paie son tribut à ces lointaines émotions en
adaptant en stop-motion Autobiographie d’une Courgette, un roman de Gilles Paris.
En chiffres, Ma Vie de Courgette c’est une soixantaine de décors, 54 marionnettes
dans trois déclinaisons de costumes, quinze plateaux de tournage, huit mois à
tourner trois secondes de film par jour et par animateur pour arriver à un métrage de
70 minutes. Mais la puissance de cette œuvre délicate ne se réduit pas à des
chiffres. La stylisation des décors et des personnages touche à la perfection. La
physionomie élémentaire de Courgette, de ses copains Simon, Ahmed, Jujube et les
autres facilite l’identification. Ils sont tous très attachants. Un sparadrap sur le front,
une cicatrice dissimulée sous une mèche de cheveux suffisent à évooquer d’anciens
drames sans recourir aux mots.
Sacre et sucre
Quand la plupart des films d’animations contemporains visent la décérébration des
jeunes spectateur à travers un rythme effréné, les auteurs de Courgette font le pari
de la lenteur, prenant même le temps de s’écarter du récit pour montrer un oiseau
qui fait son nid. La «réalité décalée» qu’ils mettent en scène fait appel à
l’intelligence du cœur.
Courgette a célébré son sacre cannois sur la plage. En guise de carton, les invités
recevaient un masque du petit gars à tif bleu. Sous le masque, tout le monde a le
sourire, d’Ivo Kummer, chef de la Section cinéma de l’Office fédéral de la culture, à
Adèle Haenel, la comédienne qu’on va bientôt découvrir dans La Fille inconnue des
frères Dardenne. Comme le film est «avant tout un hommage à tous les enfants
maltraités», des tables couvertes de sucrerie et une souffleuse de barbe à papa
bordent le dancefloor. La nuit est complètement Courgette.
Una zucchina piena di speranza - A Cannes tocca
a un film d'animazione svizzero
Marco Zucchi - domenica 15/05/16
CONDIVIDI
Quando gli si propone un paragone con Tim Burton, per il regista vallesano Claude
Barras la cosa è evidente: l'autore di Nightmare before Christimas fa parte dei suoi
punti di riferimento e nel realizzare le animazioni, con pupazzetti buffi dai grandi
occhioni, ne tiene conto.
Il contesto della vicenda è problematico e parla di un bambino accolto in un foyer
a seguito della tragica scomparsa della mamma alcolista. Sulla carta ci sarebbe di
che tener lontano il pubblico dei più piccoli, invece Ma vie de courgette è un film
perfetto per tutta la famiglia e riesce facilmente a coinvolgere bambini e adulti,
grazie a una delicatezza, una dolcezza e un talento visivo degni dei grandi narratori
per l'infanzia.
Il film di Barras è inserito nella Quinzaine des Réalisateurs di Cannes (proiezione il
15.5.) e fin dall'inizio è stato battezzato dal direttore della sezione autonoma come la
migliore animazione di questa 69esima edizione del Festival.
Intanto il personaggino di Courgette sta piacevolmente invadendo la Croisette
grazie ad una serie di raffigurazioni: sulla borse, sulle maschere-invito per il party del
film, attraverso poster, cartonati e altro.
L'intervista con il regista
(CLAUDE BARRAS) "Il film è partito dal libro, Autobiographie d’une courgette di Gilles
Paris, che parla del punto di vista di un bambino che va in un foyer e vive con altri
bambini in difficoltà. Si parla di come a poco a poco attraverso l’amicizia dei
compagni e l’aiuto degli adulti del foyer si ricostruisce una fiducia nella vita. Avevo
voglia di dedicare il mio primo lungometraggio sull’infanzia, perché ci sono molte
emozioni che si schiudono seguendo un bambino o proiettandosi nel suo
personaggio, c’è sempre un bambino dentro di noi. Inoltre il soggetto È abbastanza
vicino ad al¨cuni melodrammi che avevo amato io da bambino, come Heidi, Remi o
I quattrocento colpi. Mi hanno molto segnato e avevo voglia di restituirli alla
gioventù di oggi con un film un po’ diverso e un po’ più realistico delle animazioni
dei nostri giorni."
(MARCO ZUCCHI) Parliamo del tratto grafico. Molti hanno evocato Tim Burton...
(CB) "Io sono illustratore come primo mestiere e ho fatto già 5 cortometraggi con
Cédric Louis. La sceneggiatura e l’identità grafica risentono della nostra
ammirazione nei confronti di Tim Burton, forse più per i primi suoi lavori che per opere
più recenti, che sono un po' standardizzati. Era molto più selvaggio agli esordi. E poi
ci sono tante altre cose, come l’animazione cecoslovacca degli anni '60 fatte in
stopmotion con pupazzetti. E altro. È stato un lavoro a due sui personaggi, poi Cédric
ha iniziato a fare documentari in tv e io ho continuato con Courgette, ma ci sono
ancore le tracce del suo lavoro."
GUARDA UNA SCENA DI MA VIE DE COURGETTE
(MZ) Quali sono le tecniche utilizzate?
(CB) "L’animazione è fatta in stop motion immagine per immagine, tradizionale. Si
spostano i pupazzi e si fotografa, 24 foto per secondo per dare l’illusione del
movimento. È una tecnica particolare perché contrariamente alle tecniche digitali è
molto esigente, non si può mai correggere, è come l’improvvisazione jazz dal vivo
che può solo andare in avanti, giocare con in difetti, altrimenti bisogna ricominciare
da capo. È una peculiarità dello stop motion, che mi piace perché ti pone in una
realtà fisica, come le riprese di un film dal vivo. Poi per la scenografia, cieli eccetera,
avevamo il bluescreen e immagini di sintesi. O composizioni fotografiche. Utilizziamo
anche tecniche molto moderne. Ad esempio servivano teste molto leggere perché
sono grosse e l’armatura che regge i corpi dei pesonaggi è piccola, quindi le
abbiamo fatte con delle stampanti 3D, c’è un guscio vuoto all’interno. E le riprese
sono fatte con apparecchi fotografici digitali. Quindi il melange di tecniche è
totale."
"In effetti facevamo 3 secondi al giorno per animatore e per starci in 10 mesi
abbiamo lavorato con 10 animatori in parallelo. E cinque set per costruire le
scenografie, preparare la luce. e gli animatori si spostavano sull’una e sull’altra. Il
mestiere più folle che ho visto sul set è quello dei miei assistenti che dovevano ogni
giorno organizzare questo balletto di incastri. Con pochi pupazzetti perché ognuno
costava 15mila euro per la fabbricazione. Dovevano essere ogni volta vestiti, svestiti,
ripreparati con un’organizzazione imporessionante."
(MZ) Nei titoli di coda ci sono alcune figure professionali che rendono il film
curiosamente simile a quelli realizzati con attori in carne e ossa...
(CB) "Esattamente. Il pupazzo è in pasta da modellare. Le sculture le faccio io stesso
con due assistenti. Poi c’è un responsabile della costruzione che taglia teste braccia
gambe corpi armatura. Poi la costumista crea i costumi. Un pittore che crea i volti
come un truccatore, poi bisogna continuamente cambiarli. È vero che le riprese
somigliano a quelle di un film di fiction, ma tre secondi al giorno. Ma con un’energia
molto dinamica."
La borsina del film (RSI)
(MZ) Tornando alla trama, il film lavora molto sul concetto di senso di colpa: nella
vita di questi bimbi non c'è solo il dramma, ma anche la sensazione che in fondo sia
colpa loro se le cose vanno in una certa maniera...
(CB) "Sì, È difficile ma allo stesso tempo fa parte delle storie che ai bambini abbiamo
sempre raccontato, nelle favole tradizionali e nei film, da Bambi ad altri, che
parlavano delle tappe importanti, della morte, del dolore, preparando un po’ i
bambini alla vita. Una cosa importante. E poi parla molto della nozione di famiglia.
Cos’è la famiglia? Le persone che ci hanno generato o quelle con cui viviamo o gli
amici? Parla di come passare da una all’altra senza generare rotture o dolore? Il film
parla anche del fatto che si possono avere più famiglie. È moderno da questo punto
di vista."
(MZ) L'uscita di Ma vie de Courgette è già garantita in vari paesi, giusto?
(CB) Sì, in Italia, in Belgio mi pare, si comincia a venderlo bene. Uscirà il 19 ottobre in
Svizzera francese, tedesca e francia, da voi già in settembre
Ma vie de Courgette, sans famille mais plein de vie
ALAIN LORFÈVRE Publié le lundi 16 mai 2016 à 08h29 Après le solaire Folles de Joie de Paolo Virzi, samedi, les rires et les larmes se sont à
nouveau mêlés subtilement à la Quinzaine des Réalisateurs dont le délégué général
Edouard Waintrop a décidément l'art de bouleverser son public. Ma vie de
Courgette de Claude Barras est un des trois films d'animation présent dans les
différentes sections cannoises cette année (avec La Jeune Fille sans Main de
Sébastien Laudenbach, à l'ACID, et La Tortue Rouge de Michaël Dudok De Witt à Un
Certain Regard).
Si le genre demeure rare sur les écrans cannois, il est encore plus rare d'y voir un film
d'animation spécifiquement pour enfants, hormis des méga-productions
hollywoodiennes qui utilisent les marches cannoises comme rampe de lancement.
Le film était très attendu, précédé d'un buzz positif. Il est notamment parrainé par
Marc Bonny et sa société de distribution et de production lyonnaise Gebeka,
référence européenne en matière de cinéma d'animation et jeune public. Adapté
d'un roman de Gilles Paris (Autobiographie d'une courgette, Plon, 2002), le scénario
a été coécrit par Claude Barras avec Céline Sciamma. Avoir la réalisatrice de
Tomboy et Bande de Filles, d'excellente mémoire de festivalier, à l'écriture d'un film
pour enfants, voilà qui suscitait la curiosité.
Et le résultat est à la hauteur des attentes, une vraie pépite, un joyau qui ne prend ni
les enfants ni les adultes pour des imbéciles et qui, tout en conservant un ton léger,
un art du rire et du récit, ose arpenter les couloirs d'un orphelinat. Avant d'y entrer,
nous faisons la connaissance d'Icare, un petit garçon de huit ans qui "préfère qu'on
l'appelle Courgette". Il dessine un beau cerf-volant, solitaire dans sa chambre. Sa
mère, divorcée et aigrie, noie son chagrin devant la télévision. Courgette ramasse
les canettes qui traînent dans l'appartement, en fait une pyramide. Quand elle
s'écroule, sa mère pique une colère. Le gamin se réfugie dans sa chambre-grenier,
ferme brutalement la trappe, par peur. Bam... Maman n'est plus là. Un gentil policier
conduit Courgette dans un orphelinat. Une nouvelle vie commence, où Courgette
va devoir réapprendre l'amitié, l'affection, la confiance et apprendre à vivre avec
son geste et ses conséquences.
Tous les petits pensionnaires de l'orphelinat ont des parcours de vie tristes, voire
violents. Mais la noirceur et la douleur sont subtilement suggérées, demeurant dans
le hors champ ou les ellipses, intelligentes. Le pire ou le tragique est laissé à
l'interprétation du spectateur, selon son âge et son degré d'éveil aux côtés obscurs
de la nature humaine. Ma Vie de Courgette n'est jamais sordide ou plombant,
même si on pourra verser des larmes. mais de tristesse, celles-ci se font de joie et
d'émotion au fil du récit. On y détourne bien des conventions - comme la figure de
la terreur des bacs à sables, ici Simon, lui-même pas gâté par la vie. Et, revers positif
des drames vécus par les enfants, toutes les figures d'adultes du film sont des
personnages positifs, dignes et compétents - à l'exception d'un personnage
secondaire.
La direction artistique est délicate, tout en étant audacieuse. On évite l'esthétique
commune à la majorité des films grands publics pour un aspect plus artisanal, qui
peut évoquer les bricolages d'enfants dans les décors. Les figurines ont des grosses
têtes aux grands yeux, comme si des dessins enfantins s'étaient matérialisés. Elles sont
remarquablement expressives. L'animation est fine, fluide (on relève au générique le
nom de Kim Keukeleire, animatrice belge de réputation internationale ayant oeuvré
chez Aardman, Wes Anderson ou Henry Selick).
Ce court long métrage (à peine un peu plus d'une heure) est une réussite en tout
point, qui pousse son intégrité artistique jusqu'à avoir assumé de faire interpréter les
voix des gamins par de vrais enfants (et non adultes prenant des voix d'enfant).
Jusqu'au bout, Ma vie de Courgette ne triche pas. Enfin si, un tout petit peu, mais
pour la bonne cause, car il faut un happy end, une note d'espoir pour tous les
enfants (de 8 à 88 ans) qui verront le film et qui, comme Icare, Simon et Camille
veulent croire à des lendemains meilleurs et que même si on a perdu le plus
important, on peut toujours se recréer une famille.
Partant, Ma vie de Courgette s'inscrit dans la continuité de plusieurs films vus dans les
différentes sections cannoises cette année, où familles brisées et/ou recomposées se
succèdent, en provenance des quatre coins de la planète cinématographique.
Claude Barras à Cannes: "Il faut de la diversité dans
le divertissement pour enfants"
Alain Lorfèvre
Festival de Cannes
Originaire de Sierre, dans le Valais suisse, Claude Barras oeuvre depuis une dizaine d'année
sur des courts métrages d'animation. Son premier long métrage, Ma vie de Courgette, a été
présenté en première mondiale, dimanche, à la Quinzaine des Réalisateurs. En 2005, le réalisateur était déjà venu à Cannes, où le court métrage Banquise, coréalisé avec Cédric Louis,
avait été sélectionné en compétition officielle. Lundi, après deux ovations debout, il était tout
heureux de parler de cette longue aventure.
Comment avez-vous découvert le roman de Gilles Paris dont Ma vie de Courgette est l'adaptation ?
C'est Cédric Louis, avec lequel j'ai coréalisé six courts métrages, qui m'a fait découvrir le roman. Notre collaboration remonte à plus de dix ans. Il vient du cinéma documentaire mais
dessine beaucoup d'histoires poétiques sur l'enfance. Moi je viens de l'illustration. Il m'a amené vers l'animation. Nous avons fait un premier film, Banquise, que nous avons présenté à
Cannes il y a dix ans. Suite à cela, il m'a fait découvrir Autobiographie d'une courgette, qui
parlait de l'univers de l'enfance et de la maltraitance - mais aussi des belles choses qui en
résultent. Nous avons développé l'adaptation pendant cinq à six ans, en intermittence avec
la réalisation d'autres courts métrages d'animation. Lorsque le projet a commencé à se concrétiser, Cédric a préféré se retirer du projet, parce que s'investir pendant trois ans dans la
réalisation d'un film d'animation l'aurait éloigné trop longtemps de ses projets documentaires.
Aborder cette thématique dans un film pour enfants, c'est un sacré défi...
Le roman est plutôt ado, voire adultes. Il s'est surtout vendu dans le domaine de l'enseignement et de l'éducation, et chez les jeunes adultes. Nous avions dès le début l'ambition d'en
faire un film pour le jeune public, ce qui impliquait d'être un peu moins explicite dans le détail
de certaines choses.
Pourquoi avoir voulu rajeunir le public cible ?
J'ai un petit côté engagé par rapport au cinéma d'animation. Je trouve qu'on offre beaucoup de divertissement aux enfants, mais dans des univers souvent similaire. Je considère
qu'on doit aussi pouvoir offrir de la diversité dans le divertissement, avec des thématiques
autre que des récits d'aventure, d'action ou de fantaisie. Il ne faut pas avoir peur d'aborder
des thèmes réputés difficiles. Cela a toujours été la fonction des contes, par exemple. Notre
autre ambition était de toucher en même temps les enfants et les adultes, avec une lecture
à deux niveaux du récit.
Est-ce pour cette raison que vous vous êtes tourné vers Céline Sciamma, qui vient du cinéma
de fiction, pour la co-écriture du scénario ?
C'est mon producteur qui m'a proposé de travailler avec elle. Je connaissais bien son oeuvre.
Je n'ai pas hésité une seconde a accepté. Cela fut très facile comme collaboration. Ellemême avait le désir de travailler sur un projet pour enfants et c'est une vraie passionnée de
cinéma d'animation. Elle a tout de suite dit oui quand on lui a proposé de collaborer. Le livre
a une structure en petits épisodes, que nous avions conservée Cédric et moi dans les premiers traitements que nous avions écrits. Céline a apporté le lien, elle a gardé un tiers de ce
que nous avions écrit et y ajouté un arc narratif plus global et unificateur. Elle a fournit
quelque chose de très simple dans la forme, mais de très riche dans le détail. Elle a aussi apporté ce mélange entre le réalisme, auquel nous tenions, et une dimension plus symbolique.
N'était-ce pas risqué de s'adresser à quelqu'un qui vient de la fiction ? Parce qu'on n'écrit pas
un scénario qu'on a va tourner avec comédiens comme un scénario que l'on va devoir animer.
C'est vrai. Mais c'était précisément ce qui nous intéressait : sortir du carcan du cinéma d'animation. Nous avons travaillé de la même manière pour l'enregistrement des voix, dans une
approche plus naturaliste, avec de vrais enfants et une direction d'acteur proche de la fiction, sans appuyer les choses. Nous avons travaillé avec Marie-Eve Hildebrand, qui vient de la
fiction. C'est peut-être ce qui fait la spécificité du film, ce décloisonnement entre la fiction et
l'animation. J'ai même dû insister auprès de Céline pour qu'elle continue de penser "fiction" et
pas "animation" lorsqu'elle écrivait.
Comment avez-vous trouvé cet équilibre difficile entre un univers pour enfant et cet ancrage
réaliste ?
Nous avons beaucoup procédé par soustraction. Le film faisait d'ailleurs quinze minutes de
plus au départ. Lors du montage de l'animatique, j'ai fait en sorte de simplifier au plus la mise
en scène, avec des plans plus longs, voire des plans séquence. J'ai retiré le plus de dialogues
possibles, pour ne pas être trop redondant entre ce qu'on voit et ce qui est dit. Mais jusqu'à la
première projection publique à Cannes, nous ne savions pas du tout si le film fonctionnerait
auprès des spectateurs.
Est-ce vous qui avez mené toute la direction artistique dans la mesure où vous venez de l'illustration ?
Pour les personnages oui. Mais j'avais des chefs de poste. Cécile Milazo a signé le color script,
par exemple, avec pour idée d'avoir une couleur principale et une couleur secondaire par
personnage. J'ai essayé de laisser beaucoup de liberté aux gens avec qui je travaille. Le gros
de l'équipe était constituée de gens qui ont travaillé sur nos courts métrages précédents. On
n'avait à peine besoin de se parler.
J'ai identifié trois noms belges au générique. Mais le film n'est pas coproduit en Belgique.
Notre chef animatrice était Kim Keukeleire. Que dire ? C'est la meilleure en Europe pour
l'animation en volume. Il est impossible de ne pas penser à elle quand on monte un tel projet.
Nous la connaissions de Max & Co, l'autre film d'animation en volume suisse. Nous sommes
ravis de l'avoir eu dans l'équipe. Et parmi l'équipe de fabrication des marionnettes, dirigée
par Gregory Beaussart, nous avions Christine Polis et Benoît Polvêche, qui sont aussi des pointures dans ce domaine. J'aurais bien aimé avoir comme coproducteur votre compatriote
Vincent Tavier dont j'aime beaucoup le travail. Il avait vu le projet au Cartoon Movie à Lyon
et était très intéressé. Mais mes producteurs ont préféré garder la coproduction sur deux pays
pour ne pas trop éparpiller le travail.
Barras: la mia vita da zucchina è un mix tra Bambi e
i Dardenne
Michela Greco
L'opera prima, sceneggiata da Celine Sciamma e presentata alla Quinzaine, sarà
nelle sale italiane con Teodora
CANNES - Sono solo dei pupazzi in plastilina alti 25 centimetri, ma i protagonisti di La
mia vita da zucchina, presentato ieri tra scroscianti applausi alla Quinzaine des
Réalisateurs, sono tra gli "attori" più intensi visti al cinema ultimamente. Opera prima
di Claude Barras, il film è ispirato al libro Autobiografia di una zucchina di Gilles Paris
ed è stato sceneggiato dalla raffinata penna di Celine Sciamma, regista di Tomboy
e Diamante nero. Il risultato è una favola che, in appena un'ora di animazione a
passo uno, crea lo struggente ritratto di un'infanzia violata che trova conforto
nell'amicizia e nella condivisione. Al centro della storia c'è Zucchina, un bimbo di 9
anni che si ritrova catapultato in una casa-famiglia dopo aver accidentalmente
ucciso la mamma. Il bimbo porta con sé due soli oggetti: una lattina di birra vuota in
ricordo della madre alcolizzata e un aquilone su cui è disegnato un supereroe,
ovvero il papà che non ha mai avuto. Prossimamente nelle sale italiane
con Teodora, La mia vita da zucchina accompagna lo spettatore su un'altalena di
emozioni
"ad
altezza
di
bambino".
Barras, quanto tempo ha richiesto la realizzazione di questo film?
Sono passati dieci anni da quando ho letto per la prima volta il libro di Gilles. Ce ne
sono voluti 7 per lo sviluppo del progetto, realizzato mentre facevo altri lavori e
alcuni cortometraggi, e poi 3 anni di lavorazione vera e propria in cui mi sono
dedicato al 100% al film. Alla fine dei 7 anni di sviluppo ho incontrato Céline
Sciamma,
che
ha
dato
la
forma
definitiva
alla
sceneggiatura.
C'e' stata una grande trasformazione rispetto al libro da cui è tratto?
Il libro è composto da molti episodi, con uno stile di cronaca; noi abbiamo
semplificato la storia mantenendo i personaggi, un certo realismo e alcune delle
piccole scene che racconta. Volevo fare un film per bambini ma che parlasse di
argomenti complessi, di famiglia, di amicizia. Ciò che amavo molto nel libro, rivolto
soprattutto agli adulti, era la descrizione di situazioni molto dure, ma anche molto
dolci. Inizia come una storia difficile ma poi finisce bene: mi sembrava importante
proporre ai bambini questo tipo di racconto, perciò abbiamo aggiustato il tiro e lo
abbiamo
rivolto
più
specificamente
ai
più
piccoli.
Che limiti vi siete posti nel raccontare una storia tanto delicata sull'infanzia, in cui un
bimbo
all'inizio
uccide
sua
madre?
Avevamo paura di non trovare il modo giusto per raccontare i diversi momenti
traumatici. Nel libro Zucchina uccide la madre giocando con una pistola:
chiaramente è un incidente, ma il distributore ci ha detto subito che mettere in un
film un bambino che gioca con una pistola ci avrebbe creato grossi problemi e
allora abbiamo cercato altre soluzioni. Anche nella messa in scena, era molto chiara
per noi la necessità di evocare certe situazioni, piuttosto che guardarle negli occhi.
Ad esempio, la macchina da presa si ferma subito prima di posare lo sguardo sulla
madre
di
Zucchina.
Qual era il vostro punto di riferimento in termini di racconto "ad altezza di bambino"?
Naturalmente Truffaut, di cui ho amato moltissimo I 400 colpi, e Una tomba per le
lucciole dello studio Ghibli. E poi Bambi, Ken Loach e i fratelli Dardenne. Mi sento
molto
vicino
al
loro
cinema.
Il film offre anche un ritratto vivido della società che circonda questi bimbi...
Rispetto a I 400 colpi, per esempio, c'è un'inversione nel modo di raccontare la
società. All'epoca, anche se la famiglia poteva essere complicata, era comunque
l'unico luogo in cui si poteva vivere bene, mentre l'orfanotrofio era un ambiente
molto difficile. Qui invece l'orfanotrofio diventa uno spazio in cui i bambini possono
rifugiarsi e proteggersi dagli adulti che li maltrattano. E' un modo per dire che la
società è in difficoltà, che i suoi valori sono schizofrenici. Siamo educati con i bei
valori dell'amicizia e della condivisione, ma poi nel mondo del lavoro ci troviamo a
fare i conti con la legge del più forte. Non è bene educare i bambini con questa
visione
contraddittoria.
Si
aspettava
la
bellissima
accoglienza
avuta
alla
Quinzaine?
Nemmeno nei sogni! Quando fai un film ci metti tutta la tua attenzione, la tua
intelligenza e speri sempre che le persone ridano e si emozionino nei momenti giusti,
ma
la
reazione
ottenuta
è
andata
oltre
le
aspettative.
Ha
già
in
mente
il
prossimo
film?
Posso dire che sto lavorando sulla scomparsa del mondo selvaggio, sia umano che
animale, con le ultime grandi scimmie e gli ultimi popoli liberi. Lo realizzerò con la
stessa tecnica di animazione.
#Cannes2016 – Ma vie de courgette, di Claude Barras
15 maggio 2016 di Simone Emiliani
Colpo di fulmine alla Quinzaine. Arriva senza preavviso. È Ma vie de courgette, film in
stop-motion tratto da Autobiographie d’une courgette di Gilles Paris. Un felice diario
di iniziazione, uno squarcio su un’infanzia abbandonata di bambini ‘diversi’, ognuno
di loro con alle spalle delle difficili situazioni familiari. Ma al tempo stesso un cartoon
vivo, solare, che ravviva i piccoli protagonisti attraverso colori accesi, quasi brucianti
di passione, dove c’è uno slancio che trascina via con sé. Riprende quasi i pupazzi di
Tim Burton, poi li ribalta e li porta in un regno di luce.
Courgette è un bambino di 9 anni che crede di essere solo al mondo dopo la morte
della madre. Viene così portato in una casa famiglia dove ci sono altri bambini
oppressi da un piccolo boss, Simon. Dopo le difficoltà iniziali, riesce a fronteggiarlo e
a guadagnare la sua fiducia. Ma soprattutto un giorno arriva Camille, una ragazzina
di 10 anni. È amore al primo sguardo.
claude barras ma vie de courgetteAlla ricerca della felicità. Dove i bambini fanno
gruppo, restano immortalati nelle fotografie, hanno la necessità di conoscere le
storie degli altri per essere più complici. C’è una scena in cui Courgette e Camille
sono distesi sulla neve e si raccontano le loro storie. Sembrano due adulti in un
pounto cruciale della loro vita. In realtà c’è uno sguardo verso il futuro che si avverte
come stato emotivo e non come costruzione della scrittura. Questa è l’ennesima
magia di Céline Sciamma, che ha scritto la sceneggiatura. Dagli universi
adolescenziali di Tomboy e Diamante nero a quelli infantili di Ma vie de courgette.
Dietro il trasparente e intenso sguardo di Claude Barras – al suo primo
lungometraggio dopo altri corti d’animazione – è la Sciamma il burattinaio nascosto
che però non tiene i fili ma prende per mano i personaggi prima di lasciarli andare
da soli. Pieno di trovate riuscite (l’acqua in testa gettata al poliziotto da Ahmed, il
bambino che ce l’ha con le forze dell’ordine) ha una tristezza di fondo. Sospeso tra
Charles Dickens e Inside Out. Con il tabellone del ‘meteo dei bambini’ dove ci sono
tutti i propri sentimenti con i simboli delle previsioni metereologiche. Con una
malinconia alla quale bisognerà preparare gli spettatori più piccoli. E bisogna fare
uno sforzo fisico e mentale per non emozionarsi.
Life is not a tragedy
Manuela Lazic
My Life as a Courgette, dir. Claude Barras│ Céline Sciamma’s 2014 film Girlhood impressed with its depiction of a young girl’s coming-of-age in the Parisian banlieue.
Refusing any sugar-coating of the social and more personal difficulties faced by its
central character, Sciamma nonetheless demonstrated her belief in the possibility of
a better life and the power of determination. Her script for Claude Barras’ 60 min
animated film My Life as a Courgette adapts these principles to a younger protagonist with darker challenges to face but makes for an equally engaging, optimistic
and emotionally complex end result.
The film takes its rather strange title from its protagonist. Icare, who indeed prefers to
be called ‘Courgette,’ is a 9-year old boy who finds himself moving into the Les Fontaines orphanage after an accident that, in retrospect and given the bleakness of
his previous life, does not exactly play as tragedy.
Courgette’s new roommates have all been brought to Les Fontaines to be protected
from negligent or dangerous parents or after traumatizing experiences. However, just
as it refuses to depict directly the brutal death of Courgette’s mother, the film
chooses not to represent the other kids’ suffering on screen. Instead, they are let to
discuss their past between themselves and with the naivety and bluntness that goes
with their young age. Adopting a kind and respectful approach to introduce the
heavy subject of child neglect and even abuse, the film’s opting for inference and
offhand naivety is in tune with its characters as they themselves cannot comprehend
the terrible things they’ve experienced and are trying, unconsciously perhaps, to forget them.
Sciamma’s script, based on the novel “Autobiography of a Courgette” by Gilles Paris, employs the tropes of the coming-of-age story to not only tackle the common
hardships that come with growing up, but also to offer an optimistic answer to the
feeling of abandonment specific to orphans. Here, meeting a nice girl is more than a
step towards adulthood for Courgette. This new and unexpected source of affection
allows him to understand that there are, after all, still people left to love him. And as
all the children become attached to each other despite their own particular scars,
they begin to understand that they are still lovable themselves. Through this bonding,
they start allowing themselves to dream of a better, more peaceful life in the future.
The lightness of the animated kids film format allows My Life as a Courgette to better
strike a punch when its candid characters offer dark insights into their past and their
emotions. One devastating recurring device has one of the kids, Béa, running outside
the orphanage every time a visitor arrives, convinced that her mother is coming
back for her. Yet the sadness that her desperate hope communicates is not progres-
sively lessened as the motif is repeated. Rather, a touch of irony and humour makes
this disheartening sight more bearable and even somewhat doubly touching, especially since the bleak ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on the kids themselves.
Sharing their pain with each other and laughing (respectfully) about it together,
Courgette and his new friends learn how to live, and love, with their pain. ■