There’s something comfortingly pure in Adam Elliot’s second feature, Memoir Of A Snail. Like an artist untouched by the expectations he earned from his previous works – the Oscar-winning short Harvey Krumpet and the critically acclaimed feature Mary & Max. It took 15 years for Elliot to return to the big screen. 15 years that could have been reduced if he had given in to a corporate overlord and followed the needs of industry trends and market research. Open up to millions, dilute his brand, but make it more attractive.
Thank the good spirit of Henry Selick and Marc Caro that Elliot kept true to his ethos in Memoir Of A Snail, a dark and brooding stop-motion tale with adult themes and universal appeal.
The framing is Grace (Sarah Snook) telling the story of her life to one of her pet snails after the death of her elderly friend Pinky (Jacqui Weaver). Grace looks back at her tragic upbringing with her twin brother Gilbert (Kodi Smit-McPhee), from whom she was separated early, as both were adopted by two different families in different states. While Grace finds solace in her obsession with snails, she discovers empathy and isolation and has a somewhat tumultuous sexual awakening. At the same time, Gilbert lives with an ultra-religious family of apple growers who exploit him for menial jobs.
Every step in Grace’s life is one she hopes will bring her closer to Gilbert. But time passes, things happen, and the world doesn’t stop. Grace is at an impasse, pondering whether her life has been unfortunate or a series of events that led to growth.
It’s simple and effective. It works primarily because Elliot doesn’t over-complicate the script and is confident in his animation style. There are moments of good-hearted humour and observations of Australianism from the 70s, and I’m always enchanted when an animation film is so effortlessly adult. Elliot doesn’t do it to shock but not to hold back on his story. Language and nudity are expected, but thematically, it reaches a dark place – there’s a whole sequence where Grace has to deal with a relationship based on toxic fetishisation, and Elliot dives into the psychological repercussions of that.
It would be too easy to compare Elliot’s style to Tim Burton and Henry Selick’s stop-motion films, but I feel Memoir Of a Snail owes more to the narrative foundation of Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro. Dark and whimsical, emotional and hopeful. A world with wonder and dangers. The comparison was vindicated when I saw Dominique Pinon, frequent Jeunet/Caro collaborator, voice one of the characters. But there’s more to it – there’s a hint of Amelie in her, albeit an Amelie crippled by insecurities. Yet her influence is noticed, and every once in a while, we discover how her actions influence people for the better.
Memoir of a Snail comes from a narrative tradition I have missed. It’s made with nurturing love and attention to detail, but it does so aware that grown-ups are watching it, and grown-ups also deserve to feel hopeful things can only get better—at least for a little bit.
Verdict: 4 out of 5
For adult animation fans, it still feels unique, independent and emotional. The film also has a terrific cast of who’s who in Australia, including Eric Bana, Magda Szubanski and a little cameo of Nick Cave. A gem.