When I showed my family Marcel the Shell with Shoes On’s trailer, they laughed at my suggestion. Even disregarding that the pretentious twenty-seven-year-old critic was recommending watching a ‘kids’ film, I couldn’t really blame them. At face value, a feature centred on the high-pitched, anthropomorphic mollusc is a little silly (sorry Marcel). Shot as a live-action mockumentary with stop-motion animation in an upscale Airbnb, we’re drastically shifting away from the Disney/Pixar formula its target audience are used to. Yet, I have been eagerly anticipating Marcel’s UK cinematic release because of one reason: A24.
For those with merely a passing interest in the industry, A24 is an American independent entertainment company which produces and distributes films. Forming in 2012, they have been involved in over a hundred films, an exact total I daren’t say in case it’s already outdated by the time I’ve uploaded this. Being independent allows A24 to take plenty of interesting risks in order to compete against big corporations, paying dividends critically as well as financially. We’re now at the stage where two BAFTA accolades (Charlotte Wells, Aftersun, stay winning) can be perceived as a minor disappointment compared to the astonishing eighteen Academy Awards nominations. Hence, I will be exploring A24’s filmography in my new season to investigate how they’ve become so beloved.
Back to the pressing matter, where does Marcel the Shell with Shoes On land in this high standard collection? Aware of these preconceived notions, the film combats any initial scepticism with a montage before the narrative begins. When director Dean Fleischer Camp (playing a version of himself) then actually introduces Marcel, your brain can say “I know them, they’re the shell that drives around in a tennis ball” without feeling ridiculous. Jenny Slate continues her stellar voice acting career as the titular character, adopting a fragile timbre that naturally drew me in compared to her ‘pick me’ Bob’s Burgers role Tammy. Isabella Rosselini plays Marcel’s grandmother Connie, who’s soothing velvety tone acts as a great foil to her excitable grandson and ties the whole cute project together.
Underneath this endearing aesthetic is a great script. Fleischer Camp and Slate introduced Marcel as a short film in 2010, spawning two sequels and a storybook prior to the feature. A decade of tireless work has not only resulted in seamless stop-motion animation, but gave the creators time to fully ‘live’ in the characters. Using an outline and improvised dialogue came endless refinements until the whole film was storyboarded and recorded. Despite rigorous mapping out, each reaction and intonation comes across as genuine with the warm feeling that everyone involved had a fun time making it. There’s an abundance of jokes which hit all ages, though parents may end up being asked what ‘kush’ is and having to stretch for an answer.
What elevates the film from good to heart-wrenchingly great are the themes they choose to tackle. We discover that our characters are the only two shells left in the Airbnb after their family goes missing, and “It’s pretty much common knowledge that it takes at least 20 shells to have a community” to quote Marcel. Feelings of separation and yearning to be reunited is reminiscent of pandemic isolation, laced with the similar fear I found when approaching the return back to normality. These emotions are doubled down on with a divorce motif lingering in the background. Much like the aforementioned genuine warmth, the sadness of the creators’ divorce is tightly infused in the project, adding that extra layer of authenticity.
My eager anticipation had already been paid off by the 20 minute mark when Marcel described a documentary like “A movie but nobody has any lines and nobody knows what it is while they’re making it.” By the end of the film, I was quietly crying to avoid disrupting a couple’s date night in the row ahead. It can be very easy to be cynical about this genre of cinema, but Marcel the Shell with Shoes on caters for those people too. Sometimes it can be hard to see the joy in anything and the space in your heart gets louder everyday. But then I head down to the cinema to watch films like these, because it’s worth it.
