Style over substance. 'The City of Lost Children (1995)' is one of the most visually-exciting films to emerge from the 1990s constructing an elaborate fantasy world of the weird and wonderful but, unfortunately, it often feels rather hollow and purposeless. French co-directors Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet were already well-known for their distinctive visual style, having previously achieved success with the post-apocalyptic black comedy 'Delicatessen (1991),' and this film, the last of their collaborations, only extends their fascination with blending surrealism and fantasy into a veritable feast for the eyes and the imagination. The story unfolds in a gloomy, greenish-tinted industrial world closer to an alternative universe than any futuristic dystopia and concerns, in a twisted, twenty-first century take on an age-old formula, a keen inventor who attempts to fashion his own family using bizarre scientific methods. Caro and Jeunet fill the screen with grotesque human figures, apparently delighting in the stark contrast created between the weathered, disfigured features of the adult characters, and the soft youthfulness of the large cast of child performers.
On an ominous oil-rig in the centre of a green, polluted ocean, an eccentric inventor (Dominique Pinon) has attempted to craft a family for himself, with ghastly results at every turn: his would-be wife is stunted and dwarfish, his "brain-in-a-tank" intellectual companion suffers constant migraines, the six clones "created in his own image" are clumsy and idiotic, and his supreme creation "more intelligent then the most intelligent man on Earth" is stricken with one disastrous flaw the inability to dream. Depressed and tormented by his shortcomings, this masterpiece creation, Krank (Daniel Emilfork) who was obviously inspired by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein Monster rebels against his maker, tossing him into the ocean and presumably killing him. In order to stave off the aging process, Krank has taken to kidnapping children and attempting to experience their innocent dreams, those the torment of imprisonment results in little but horrible nightmares. When the "little brother" of a dim but kind-hearted strongman, One (American actor Ron Perlman), is kidnapped by a cult of sinister blind men in Krank's service, he strikes out in pursuit, willing to stop at nothing.
'The City of Lost Children' is part "Frankenstein," part "Oliver Twist" and part 'Labyrinth (1986),' a bewildering amalgamation of fantasy concepts, and an exceptional master-class in cinematography and set-design. Though there are a good share of brilliant storytelling moments such as the elaborate sequence in which a single teardrop saves the lives of our principal characters it never really comes together as a whole, and often the whole tale is so preposterous that you're not sure what exactly in going on. Daniel Emilfork, with his gaunt, pale face and empty eyes, makes for an excellent villain, though I preferred his character when the film didn't steep too deeply into tongue-in-cheek absurdity. Ron Perlman, the one actor you'd never cast in an elegant Shakespearian period-piece, is very much at home in the bizarre trappings of Caro and Jeunet's elaborately-twisted universe, and does very well considering he was the only American involved in the film's production. Of course, I think it's safe to say that young Judith Vittet steals the show, delivering an extraordinarily confident and heartfelt performance as a street urchin who finds, in One, a guardian and best friend.
On an ominous oil-rig in the centre of a green, polluted ocean, an eccentric inventor (Dominique Pinon) has attempted to craft a family for himself, with ghastly results at every turn: his would-be wife is stunted and dwarfish, his "brain-in-a-tank" intellectual companion suffers constant migraines, the six clones "created in his own image" are clumsy and idiotic, and his supreme creation "more intelligent then the most intelligent man on Earth" is stricken with one disastrous flaw the inability to dream. Depressed and tormented by his shortcomings, this masterpiece creation, Krank (Daniel Emilfork) who was obviously inspired by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein Monster rebels against his maker, tossing him into the ocean and presumably killing him. In order to stave off the aging process, Krank has taken to kidnapping children and attempting to experience their innocent dreams, those the torment of imprisonment results in little but horrible nightmares. When the "little brother" of a dim but kind-hearted strongman, One (American actor Ron Perlman), is kidnapped by a cult of sinister blind men in Krank's service, he strikes out in pursuit, willing to stop at nothing.
'The City of Lost Children' is part "Frankenstein," part "Oliver Twist" and part 'Labyrinth (1986),' a bewildering amalgamation of fantasy concepts, and an exceptional master-class in cinematography and set-design. Though there are a good share of brilliant storytelling moments such as the elaborate sequence in which a single teardrop saves the lives of our principal characters it never really comes together as a whole, and often the whole tale is so preposterous that you're not sure what exactly in going on. Daniel Emilfork, with his gaunt, pale face and empty eyes, makes for an excellent villain, though I preferred his character when the film didn't steep too deeply into tongue-in-cheek absurdity. Ron Perlman, the one actor you'd never cast in an elegant Shakespearian period-piece, is very much at home in the bizarre trappings of Caro and Jeunet's elaborately-twisted universe, and does very well considering he was the only American involved in the film's production. Of course, I think it's safe to say that young Judith Vittet steals the show, delivering an extraordinarily confident and heartfelt performance as a street urchin who finds, in One, a guardian and best friend.