Azur and Asmar a Delight for Children
[Still Courtesy Gkids.]
Azur and Asmar are brothers in everything but blood, raised through childhood by Asmar’s mother. Like her, Asmar is dark-skinned, with black eyes and hair; his father is gone. Azur is light-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde; his father is altogether too present, as master of the house where Asmar’s mother is servant and nanny. But the two boys, brought up together since infancy, share the bond of brotherhood. In infancy, their mother sings to them of the land across the sea, telling them of the Djinn Fairy Princess who is imprisoned under a magical curse, waiting to be liberated by the prince who would be brave enough and crafty enough to overcome the obstacles placed in his path. And each boy swears that he will be the one to liberate and marry that princess.
Although Azur’s father soon cruelly separates the children, sending his son off to school in the city and banishing Asmar and his mother from the house, Azur never forgets the story of the Djinn Fairy Princess, nor does he forget his mother and his brother. When he’s old enough, he defies his father and sets sail for the land across the sea. Of course, he meets with a storm and is shipwrecked on a strange coast.
That’s just the beginning of an elaborate, compelling fairy tale that would be at home in the 1,001 Nights, full of setbacks and successes, of enchantments and of spells broken, of gallantry and of courage — not to mention a little humorous cowardice. For it turns out that Azur has washed up on the coast of the land he seeks, that his adoptive mother is alive and well, and so is his brother Asmar. But guess what: Asmar is also determined to liberate the Djinn Fairy Princess and become her husband.
This makes for some friction between the brothers. But I will say no more!
The film was created by Michel Ocelot, whose most acclaimed film, Kirikou and the Sorceress (1998), was a marvellous piece of hand-drawn animation; its lines had an expressiveness and energy that has stayed with me, years after I first saw it in a class on French cinema. Expecting something of the same in this film, I was disappointed that Ocelot chose to use CGI as his principal method. There is no question that the sequences are visually dazzling, almost to the point of fatigue, in their unbelievably rich patterning and unnaturally saturated colors. But in exchange, Ocelot has sacrificed a great deal of the expressive power he was able to muster in his hand-drawn renderings, especially of bodily movement. The characters have an unfortunate stiffness, apart from a few instances where their movements are uncannily natural. But most of the time, I felt that I was watching an extended animation from a role-playing game.
There are many striking sequences — among them the fight scene pictured above — that reminded me of Ocelot’s mastery. But those moments only made me long more intensely for the hand-drawn and the hand-colored, faced with this world where everything was so sharp and cold, where everything, even the sky and the stones, appeared to be made of brightly colored glass.
But such considerations are unlikely to trouble any child. Both dazzling and involving, it’s guaranteed to keep any child under the age of ten entranced for the full ninety-nine minutes. As far as kid’s movies go, there are many films much less charming to see.
Ocelot himself is visiting San Francisco from France this week, and he will speak at the opening-night showings, on Friday, March 6th, at 4:15 and 7:00, at the Opera Plaza Cinema. The film is rated PG and is here for a one-week engagement. Trailer here, tickets here.
[This post was originally published on SF Appeal.]
posted: 09 March 3
under: The Next Frame