Plot: Amélie, a Belgian child in Japan, explores life with her companion Nishio-san. Her third birthday marks the beginning of life-altering events that shape her understanding of the world.
Review: Trying to recall your earliest memories is like grasping at smoke, your mental fingers passing through the moment as if trying to hold hands with a ghost. Try as I might to conjure some of my first memories, they often feel like dreams, an imagined vision of hospital ceilings, tender smiles, and busy bodies pushing tubes and ventilators into my tiny body. For Amélie (Loïse Charpentier), her first memories are just as surreal, though she’s absorbing the world’s wonders in ways that bring about many questions about her mental prowess. You see, Amélie, born in a vegetative state, thinks she’s a god, observing the actions of her Belgian family while living in Kobe, Japan. Rather than behave like an ordinary child, Amélie sits patiently, unmoving and inexpressive. Until the day of her second birthday, when an earthquake shakes loose her infinite potential.
Directed by Maïlys Vallade and Liane-Cho Han, Little Amélie, or The Character of Rain, is a visually spellbinding and emotionally charged adaptation of Amélie Nothomb‘s novel The Character of Rain (Métaphysique des tubes). The film follows Amélie through the first three years of her extraordinary life while living with her family and caregiver, Nishio-san, in Kobe, Japan. As an enigmatic child, it’s impossible to tell whether Amélie is advanced beyond her years or genuinely possesses godlike abilities. Evidence suggests it’s the latter, but as the story seamlessly blends fantasy with reality, it’s difficult to tell.
Amélie is unlike other children. After the earthquake, she’s impossible to console. She cries constantly and is rejective of her family. The situation becomes so stressful for Amélie’s parents that her father, Patrick (Marc Arnaud), hires a nanny, Nishio-san, at the suggestion of the landlady Kashima-san (Yumi Fujimori), a witch-like figure who’s resentful of her tenant’s Belgian roots. Nishio-san (Victoria Grosbois) arrives at the house, alongside the family’s grandmother, Claude (Cathy Cerda). When Clause feeds Amélie a piece of Belgian white chocolate, her feral nature calms, revealing a sweet and inquisitive girl who, miraculously, can speak in complete sentences at the age of 2 1/2.
As events unfold, Little Amélie or The Character of Rain becomes a story of a young girl’s exploration of her world. Like any other child of her age, Amélie sees everything, but doesn’t understand her experiences. Luckily, she has Nishio-san to help guide her. Amélie and Nishio-san form an unbreakable bond, with Amélie hanging on to every word and lesson from her nanny. Nishio-san’s level of involvement in shaping Amélie’s personality would be concerning if the directors hadn’t also taken care to show Amélie’s affection for her blood-related family, except for her brother, André. It’s a delicate balance that Vallade and Han walk well, giving you the impression that, although Nishio-san is Amélie’s world, the young girl still loves her family and values their contributions to her upbringing.
Regarding the film’s overall look and animation, Little Amélie or The Character of Rain feels like a living, breathing children’s novel come to life on screen. The film’s color palette is mesmerizing, with a mix of pastels, pale neons, and almost crayon-like artwork that brings Amélie’s surroundings into focus. I found myself feeling relaxed while gazing at the film’s colors and nearly lulled to sleep (positive) whenever it began to rain, like cinematic ASMR.
A lot can happen in three years, and Amélie certainly goes through significant life changes during her journey. In addition to marveling at the world around her, Amélie experiences profound loss on several occasions throughout the film. Because of her inquisitive nature and almost supernatural ability to comprehend life events, the sudden absence of influential figures in her life profoundly affects her. These emotional moments hit me hard. I find that, as I get older, I’m more sentimental than I used to be, and I’m prone to welling up if the content is well-presented. By my count, I teared up twice and actually felt a few tears fall from my eyes near the film’s end. I wouldn’t say I was emotionally devastated, but I definitely felt the film’s effects for a few hours after the credits rolled.
At the risk of spoiling the film’s emotional twists and pivotal character-building moments, I’m choosing to leave out much of what makes Little Amélie or The Character of Rain special in my review. Suffice it to say, the film is a beautiful depiction of life, loss, and forgiveness. There’s a plot element involving the witch-like landlady, Kashima-san, and Nishio-san that adds a complex layer of drama, as Kashima-san disapproves of Nishio-san’s love for Amélie, given the little girl’s Belgian roots and her ancestors’ involvement in an attack that killed families in Japan during a war. It’s the type of plotline that takes you from hating a character to feeling sympathy for the crabby, almost vengeful older woman. It’s difficult to gauge the magnitude of someone else’s pain, and the film does a fantastic job of making you feel Kashima-san and Nishio-san’s profound loss in a short span.
With superb, compelling voice performances by the cast, a look that will keep your eyes pleasantly busy for the film’s duration, and multiple emotional and existential threads to tug on, Little Amélie or The Character of Rain is an animated indie darling more than worthy of its Oscar nomination and deluge of praise. It’s a heavy-handed family film that younger viewers could tune out of, but older audiences will no doubt bask in its heady observations about early memory, the profound effects of change, and the forging of deep emotional connections with people who have the patience to teach us about the finer things in life.
