Unless you’ve got a delegate pass or you get to go to industry screenings, it can be hard to pick the right films to see at any film festival. The best you’ve got to go on is industry hype and picking ones that sound good from their programme synopsis – and the people writing those summaries are hardly going to make the films sound bad are they?
In any case, I think my decision to give Mary and Max a go was definitely a success. It’s a lovely film from start to finish, not just in terms of the painstakingly loving way in which it’s been made, but the delightfully shambolic story as well. It’s a stop-motion animation film from Australian animator Adam Elliot, who won an Oscar for his short film Harvie Krumpet in 2004, and – as with nearly every stop-motion animated feature I’ve seen – it’s the small details that combine to form a very absorbing film.
The story starts in the 1970s, when Mary – a little Australian girl with no friends and a birthmark on her forehead ‘the colour of poo’ – finds Max Horowitz’s address in her local post office directory, and starts writing to the lonely, middle-aged New Yorker who she later finds out has Asperger’s Syndrome and clinical depression. Their relationship develops across a period that spans over a decade and would seem a little far-fetched were it not for the fact that it is based on a true story; Elliot himself had an American penpal called Max with Asperger’s Syndrome (who knows all about the film and approves!), although the moving ending doesn’t bear resemblence to real events.
One of the many things I loved about this film was its muted colour scheme. Mary’s world is all browns and beiges, while Max’s is an uncompromising grey. Indeed, the only bursts of colour we see that are part of his existence are things that Mary has sent him: a brown chocolate bar, a red pompom and a childish drawing of herself. It all helps to create an authentic sense of the helplessness and suffocation that the characters feel in their daily lives, as well as underlining the seriousness of the themes it attempts to tackle; alcoholism, mental illness, substance abuse and suicide all play very strong roles in the film.
At the same time, the entire movie is encased in an atmosphere of such tender humour that it’s hard not to laugh even when you perhaps shouldn’t be. The only real drawback was that I didn’t think it felt like a cohesive narrative in parts – to me at least. In some senses, it felt like several short films had been pieced together and though the whole they create is both moving and memorable, I think a bit more fluidity would have given it that extra punch.
After my recent musings about how no one writes letters anymore, it’s nice to see a fictional work (albeit one set before the days of email) tackle a story that uses letter-writing as the primary plot driver. If Mary and Max gets a distributor in the UK (I really hope it does!), I think it’ll be something that appeals to a range of film lovers, even those that don’t usually choose to see animation. I’d also be really interested to see what Adam Elliot comes up with next… though, judging by stop-motion’s usual years-long timescale, I imagine it’ll be some time yet.
