DEREK EX MACHINA, created by author and editor Derek L.H., is a blog dedicated to exploring the effect that video games and film have on people.

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain Review: Memories Last, As Does Emotional Spectacle

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain Review: Memories Last, As Does Emotional Spectacle

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is a beautiful reminder of the unique storytelling capabilities of animation. Not only is it the most visually spectacular movie of the year, it has also catapulted itself into being my favorite movie of the year so far. // Image: GKIDS, Ikki Films

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain may be a weak English title from the original French title, Amélie et la métaphysique des tubes, or literally “Amélie and the Metaphysics of Tubes”, but such a thing is likely the worst aspect of the film. If a movie’s worst trait is its wordy title, then you’ve just watched something incredibly special.

Such was the case when I went to see GKIDS’ latest North American release. Codirected by Maïlys Vallade and Liane-Cho Han and animated by Ikki Films, Little Amélie adapts The Character of Rain that illustrates the story of Amélie, who immediately claims at the beginning of the film to be God. She immediately describes God not as a person, but as a tube - something that sees things enter and leave around them. This premise immediately sets up intrigue, but most crucially, it creates a wonderous context for Amélie as she gains sentience during the film’s first act.

Born in a vegetative state, Amélie is incarnated as a human and watches the world happen around her. This film’s framing of its titular character may seem like an initially bizarre choice for a film uninterested in commentary on religion or the divine. However, Little Amélie’s framing of its protagonist effectively illustrates that the character we follow throughout the coming journey is actually a blank slate of memories. She has no memories and therefore has little identity to present to the world around her. As the film goes on, we see how the proliferation of memories throughout Amélie’s life is going to shape into being a defined character that is as unique as she is human.

Like all of us when we enter this world, we don’t remember much aside from vague visuals that stick in our mind for the rest of our lives. When she lives in a vegetative state, Amélie merely watches her family as the visuals of watching her family around her are the only things that can take up her mind and memory.

Then, one day, Amélie achieves sentience. She just “wakes up” one day and begins experiencing life for herself, much like the way we suddenly realize we have our independence when we reach a certain age. I vividly remember a point in my childhood where I realized that I could think for myself, say and do things that no one told me to do - I could command my own body and mind to do as I pleased. Amélie’s awakening as an able-bodied child represents an awakening for what will become the foundational memories that she’ll form throughout her early childhood.

In an instance of the film’s playful sense of humor, Amélie tries to communicate to her family that she’s the incarnation of God, but she can only form nonsense sounds that her family perceives as typical baby noises. Frustrated by her inability to be understood by others, Amélie begins mercilessly crying and screaming. Things begin to change when Claude, Amélie’s grandmother, arrives from Belgium and gives Amélie a piece of white chocolate - which quite literally ascends her into another plane of existence for a time. This reflects how certain experiences we have at a young age, whether it’s eating a certain food for the first time or hearing the noise an instrument makes for the first time, awakens a particular part of us. For Amélie, the white chocolate quells her outrage over not being able to be understood by her family as she revels in the unparalleled experience of eating white chocolate for the first time.

Not long after, Amélie develops at a miraculous rate, as she learns to walk, run, and even talk fantastically quickly. In fact, Little Amélie comedically subverts the typical depiction of a baby speaking their first words. Amélie’s very first word is “vacuum” after seeing her caretaker Nishio use a vacuum cleaner moments earlier (which is just a delightfully odd creative decision). Quickly after, Amélie starts speaking in full, complex sentences the instant her family discovers she can speak in the first place.

Throughout its first act, Amélie revels in this playful, often comedic subversion of typical structures that we see in stories centering around characters navigating their early childhood. However, the injection of humor throughout this film brings into focus the film’s greatest strength: its fantastic emotional depth. Oftentimes, Amélie will flip-flop between different emotions in particular scenes at the flip of a switch in a way that feels both natural and a product of tremendously smart writing. Amélie beautifully illustrates the many different moods, triumphs, and difficulties that life can take us through in a sometimes unforgivingly short amount of time.

In one moment, Amélie is experiencing the whimsy and jubilation of seeing her name written in Japanese for the first time. Just seconds later, she sees her father crying after hearing of his mother’s - Amélie’s grandmother’s - passing, leading to Amélie learning about the concept of death. Immediately after this scene, Amélie talks with Nishio about what it means to die - a conversation that beautifully and realistically combines the somber, the awkward, the bittersweet, and even the unexpected humor.

Beyond telling an emotionally complex and compelling story, Little Amélie or the Character of Rain stands out from any other film this year due to its incredibly vivid art style that combines soft colors, thick outlines, and distinct character designs that give the film an unforgettable visual identity. // Image: GKIDS, Ikki Films

Little Amélie progresses its conversation about memories through the film’s primary focus on the relationship that forms between Amélie and her caretaker, Nishio. The two gradually bond with each other to the point where they become inseparable. Given that Amélie comes from a Belgian family temporarily living in Japan, Nishio offers Amélie an opportunity to learn about Japanese culture. This leads to her learning the meaning behind how her name is written in Japanese to learning about the meaning behind Japanese cultural practices, such as a festival that honors those that have passed. This causes tension between Nishio and her superior Kashima, who is angered that Nishio would teach such things to someone who isn’t Japanese. That presents a secondary conflict that breathes additional commentary about identity and memories into Amélie.

In Amélie’s eyes, she is purely interested in learning about the world around her, and by proxy of being in Japan, she becomes curious about Japan. Nishio is happy to satiate Amélie’s curiosity. The bulk of the film’s second act is centered on how Amélie’s understanding of the world greatly expands - so much so to the point that she considers herself Japanese. And considering the context of her lived experience so far - why wouldn’t she? Amélie gained sentience while living in Japan and has lived all of her conscious life in this part of the world. Every memory she’s gained up to this point in her life are of Japan - so why should she consider herself anything else?

Are memories enough to justify our own identity? Are you allowed to claim that you’re of a certain nationality just because you’ve formed memories and an understanding of yourself in that part of the world? This is where Amélie’s conflict and setting are at their best - when the film’s 1960s Japan backdrop is used to challenge ideas of nationalism and identity. In an era of post-war Japan where the consequences of World War II were still being directly felt by its citizens, nationalism and gatekeeping who can claim Japanese nationality were natural products to cope with feelings of anger and resentment towards the rest of the world. Kashima even suggests that “[Amélie’s family] are responsible for what happened” - even though Amélie’s family are from Belgium and have nothing to do with the events that took the lives of Nishio and Kashima’s family during the war.

In truth, Kashima’s nationalism comes from a fear of the foreign mixing with the familiar. Amélie is but an illustration to Kashima that seeking to understand more of the world is far from a bad thing - something that Kashima comes to understand throughout the film’s second and final act.

Little Amélie additionally excels when it’s using Amélie’s status as an incarnation of God as an excuse to give us some incredible imagery. The animation takes great advantages of instances where Amélie is frolicking through her backyard as flowers bloom as she runs past them. An explosion of colors accompanies the blooming landscape in a visual spectacle that’s unforgettable. Another instance is when Amélie splits the sea and navigates the world below in a scene that is as awe-inspiring as it is gorgeous to look at.

Little Amélie’s beauty is self-evident while watching it. From the use of color to the distinctive way that eyes look, Little Amélie has an art style that’s hard to look away from. The film’s mix of a mundane and nostalgic 1960s depiction of job and the film’s fantastic exploration of Amélie’s powers as an incarnation of God ensures that the film has a consistent supply of eye candy that keeps this emotional journey interesting to look at.

“Memories last” is one of the most poignant quotes from Little Amélie or the Character of Rain. No matter how big or small, the memories we share with people at any point in our lives - even when we’re in our early childhood - significantly shape us into who we are. // Image: GKIDS, Ikki Films

It also helps that Little Amélie features phenomenal pacing that allows the film to explore a lot of different conflicts, emotions, and ideas very quickly. As mentioned above, Little Amélie is commendable in how many different subjects it approaches, and one of the most pivotal aspects of Little Amélie that makes it stand above other animated films of its type is its willingness to explore dark topics.

Animated films featuring conversations about what it means to die is already a rarity in and of itself, but the film additionally features a scene where Amélie is depicted as intentionally drowning herself. Shortly after this, she sees her deceased grandmother, who confides in Amélie that she has still has so many things to understand about the world, even if she’s an incarnation of God.

This leads to a sequence that presses the hardest on Little Amélie’s theme of memories. The amount of time that Amélie has been sentient in her life has been short. It has been inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. It has featured conflict, including petty ones like how she never said her brother’s name because he regularly bullies her. In spite of all of this, though, Amélie's life has found value - and that value comes from the memories that she holds onto. The few memories that Amélie has formed over this part of her life have already changed the person that she is - and they will only continue to influence who she is as more time separates her from when these memories took place.

One of the most powerful scenes in the film is when Amélie is watching the scene of her watching Nishio write Amélie’s name in Japanese, now from a different perspective. In this scene, Amélie is directly confronting the memory that she forged with Nishio and reconciles with how it made her feel. This moment, quaint as it was, filled her with awe and curiosity - the kind that Amélie still carries with her. No matter where Amélie’s life goes, no matter what happens with her life, she’ll always have the memories and the emotions associated with those memories as key beacons that guide her towards the future.

“Memories last.” This is a quaint, perhaps self-evident phrase that’s uttered during Little Amélie’s climax, and yet I find it so profound because of how smartly it contextualizes the events of the film. Amélie’s relationship with her caretaker is destined to end. The place she calls home is destined to change, as the film reveals that Amélie’s family has to move back to Belgium soon. The very people that surround Amélie are fated to come in and out of her life as things change.

But that’s life - it’s consistently ever-changing and frustratingly uncontrollable. But even in the face of that lack of control that we have, we still have access to our memories that we hold onto from certain parts of our lives. As Nishio says during their conversation about death, she still holds onto the memory of her departed family members and still sees and talks to them in some form. Her family members may be gone, but their impact and their memory lives on and still meaningfully guide the way Nishio lives her life.

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is a beautiful film not only for its aesthetics, but for its simple but meaningful implementation of themes that any moviegoer, young or old, can relate with. Little Amélie is a reminder that a lot can be said through a simple premise that channels the quainter side of our reality. Through discussing meaningful themes with a dark but realistic edge gives the film intellectual and emotional value that will strike a chord with audiences regardless of age. I’m of the opinion that such a trait is what elevates transforms animated films into offering some of the most valuable and essential stories, and that very much remains to be the case here.

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is a sweet, tender exploration of the humanistic value of sentimentality and companionship. It’s a remarkably human film, despite its protagonist consistently trying to convince herself otherwise. As Amélie admits at the end of the film, embracing our humanity makes things more interesting. Embracing the unique ideas and perspectives that arise from our memories is exactly what reminds us that we’re alive.

More than anything, Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is a movie that celebrates being alive and the unique gift that memories give to our understanding of ourselves. For that reason, it’s hard to view the film as anything but essential viewing for those willing to become entranced by heartful, imaginative storytelling and striking, unforgettable animation.


Final Grade: A+


Thank you very much for reading! What are your thoughts on Little Amélie or the Character of Rain? As always, join the conversation and let me know what you think in the comments or on Bluesky @DerekExMachina.com.

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