"my life as a zucchini"

Gébéka Films

Gébéka Films

What does it mean to be a part of a family? And what does it mean to be part of a fabric of society that constitutes humanity? These are the deep, philosophical questions posed in Claude Barras' subversive "Ma Vie de Courgette," otherwise known as "My Life As a Zucchini." Based on Gilles Paris' Autobiographie d'une Courgette, first time-Swedish filmmaker Barras' brightly colored, diminutive work approaches the notion of childhood in a manner which never teeters on condescension, nor does it seek to belittle, undervalue or patronize its pint-sized protagonists. For many troubled 9-year-olds such as Icare (French for Icarus), the idea of school is presented one of two ways: at times an alarming, if not wholly intimidating prospect, and a necessary evil; where orphans from all walks of life congregate into a safe, shared space together. Yet Icare, the soft-spoken wunderkind at the heart of this work, is in such a state of disrepair at the film's outset that his misfortunes render him almost comatose. Barely lifting a finger when he needs to, and only truly coming alive when he's forced into a bare-knuckle brawl with the schoolyard bully, Simon. Yet despite all of his brushes with death, violence, isolation and abandonment, Icare manages to mine the strength within himself, and rises above the fray stronger and more determined than before — proving that just because God, the world, and perhaps even the universe have all got you down, it doesn't mean you can't dodge life's cruelest softballs and eventually hit a home run.

Icare in fact, remains remarkably stable throughout. An upbeat observer of life's impermanence and unpredictability, he never blames these outside forces for his unlucky hand, and somehow manages to fall somewhere on the emotional spectrum between charming introvert and brass extrovert — subverting all which accidentally lies between. The film's true ingenuity, however, relies on the relationships Icare fosters with his fellow compatriot castaways — there's tormentor Simon, who mocks Zucchini at every possible turn by referring to him as a "Potato," there's Raymond, a reluctant police officer whose own middle-aged son has turned against him, and of course there's Camille, the beautiful newcomer who witnesses her mother's murder at the hands of her psychopathic father. Icare can't help but succumb to her rapturous joy (despite her many misfortunes), and instantly falls in love with her — in turn threatening his already tense friendship with Simon and the others, made even more complicated by Raymond's offer to adopt the pair back at his home in Paris. Still, as the rest of the children's prospects for finding a proper home and family starts to dwindle, their glimmer of hope also strays, and it is indeed a slow, heartbreaking recognition. 

This tender film stands out for many other notable reasons: not only is it a cogent reminder that stop-motion animation (in the vein of old classics like "Gumby," "The Nightmare Before Christmas," and newer fare such as "Fantastic Mr. Fox" and "Kubo and the Two Strings") is still marvelous to watch in the theaters, it reminds children just how lucky they are to have families that they can call their own. The brisk screenplay, adapted by French writer/ director Céline Sciamma, paints a poignantly striking visage, not only of the politics at play between children and adults, but for packing an emotional punch that cannot be communicated through traditional CGI animation. The Frenchness of it all in fact (which, when translated to English, eludes most of its comic flare), adds to the subdued melancholy that these children share, yet they all persist, never giving into delusion or a hyper-awareness of their lousy situations. It's a perfect nexus of what can be achieved and what cannot be avoided — and in a world run by adults, this simple, yet beautiful cartoon reimagines a life for children which sidesteps the very real horrors of not having a home, because children are, after all, meant to be protected from the human traumas of everyday life.

"MY LIFE AS A ZUCCHINI" Rated PG-13. Running time: 1 hour 10 minutes.  

Ruben Guevara