TAN YEE YONG U0930059K INTRODUCTION TO MAGICAL REALISM 3.In what way does Amélie focus on the ‘SMALL PLEASURES’ of life? Do you think this is a positive thing or a dangerous form of escapism – a way of avoiding unpleasant realities and abandoning ‘big political ideals’? Part of Amélie’s acclaim was attributed to its portrayal of a life in pursuit of “small pleasures”, where the ordinary is perhaps a setup for the magical to happen. This essay shall attempt to explore beyond the standard definition of the term in the movie, and relate to the feasibility of the notion in both the meta-‐world of Jean-‐Pierre Jeunet, and also in contemporary lifestyle’s holism. The movie starts with a brief introduction of unrelated events leading to the lead character’s conception, and along that, a grand list: “Il n’aime pas… Elle aime…” (He hates… she likes….); A myriad of unpredictable combinations of likes and dislikes to the characters in the movie, regardless of the size of their role. This is where we first see the notion of “small pleasures” of life; on the surface, nonsensical yet highly personal, habitual actions or eccentricities that we endear to as part of our self-‐ affirmation, but in actuality embodies much more than just identity.
“W ITHOUT YOU , TODAY ' S EMOTIONS WOULD BE THE SCURF OF YESTERDAY ’ S .” “…T ICKETS , PLEASE .” [1] Such a notion is centered on Amélie though, as her relentless pursuit (and acceptance) of the imaginary and the fantastic conversely numbs her to the rigid social norms of the world and the depressing realities of life, most evidently shown above where she recites a poetic line to a bus conductor. The stark contrast between reality and Jeunet/ Amélie’s
attempts of sidestepping it continues, such as the acknowledgement of a “life-‐changing” moment of hers with her discovering a metal box-‐ instead of the shock response towards the death of Princess Diana on the news, and also her fondness of feel-ing (or shall we say observation of sensual aesthetics?) by favoring the subtle, the authentic, the seemingly insignificant and non-‐contextual: the tasks that probably would never get her anywhere in real life.
“I HAD TWO HEART ATTACKS , AN ABORTION , DID CRACK WHILE I WAS PREGNANT . O THER THAN THAT , I' M FINE .” “[ FEIGNED RESPONSE ]… GOOD .” [2] It seems ironic however, that by virtue of Magic Realism, Amélie’s obsession over these pleasures takes the viewer on a journey of change spanning through the entire film. Whereas she used to be entirely sufficient on sampling fragments of life’s eccentricities in solitude, now she feels the urge to find a resolve for the people around her living in disillusionment; be it getting over grief, jealousy, or even oppression. This, too, can be argued into the notion of “small pleasures”: acts that go beyond the feeling of authentic aesthetics, and involve the feel-ing of authentic emotions: joy, elation, relief, closure. As authentic as they may be, these feelings are not hers.
“I F A MÉLIE CHOOSES TO LIVE IN A DREAM -‐ WORLD AND REMAIN AN INTROVERTED YOUNG WOMAN , SHE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO MESS UP HER LIFE !” [3]
Equally ironic is perhaps the fact that Amélie chooses to feel for everyone and everything else, yet does not do so for herself. Along her pursuits of “small pleasures” the certainty of self-‐resolve was lost. By herself, Amélie seems content with what she has; yet through the course of the film the painter Dufayel starts to question the point of her “simple pleasures” when they do nothing to solve her underlying problems, nor satisfy her when her shyness impedes her from going ahead with a relationship. Escapism? Without a doubt. Dangerous? I suppose not though; At least not in Jeunet’s world, where Montmarte is portrayed as a city naturalized to mannerisms of a suburb or even a non-‐urban tourist trap: devoid of people, grit, danger and even any sort of ontology, thus scenic and pleasant: even the death of Amélie’s mother was portrayed in a manner-‐ of-‐fact style without any exclamation. Amélie lives and seemingly thrives in this created world of his-‐ until Dufayel starts to make her look deep into what she actually wants with her life (and it is assumed that she reciprocates this gesture with a similar act). Reality might be too hard for “simple pleasures” to bear: in Amélie they were set against a simplistic backdrop free of noise, which became enabling for the fantastical to happen; in current reality, deliberate chance is perhaps even rarer than a dodo sighting, and miraculous acts of coincidence can only be hoped for – the magical in reality does not seem as an adequete impetus to live a life surrounding such simplicity. Add in the unpleasantness of daily disappointment and the backdrop of contemporary urban life truly feels like hostile ground for the term. Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story, a film set 50 years back in Japan, speaks clearly about the divide between “simple pleasures” of the children’s parents in their intentions and mannerisms and city life drawing their children towards different priorities (Money? Career? Obligation? Perhaps not so simple anymore?) even back then. I suppose this serves as a good justification for Jeunet to transpose his vision of Paris into a retro-‐ styled, romantic voyage reminiscent of the 60s, where the modern was present but picturesque nostalgia towards a simpler era prevailed. Henceforth I find critics claiming Jeunet’s world being unfair and untrue
to be missing the forest for the trees; Amélie feels more authentic than most films or literature approaches to Magical Realsim; the honest (straightforward) narrative, the eccentric characters, the subliminal cinematography and the imperfect tropes, they all hold no pretense towards their existence; And above all they add to the effect that Amélie gives to the viewer in regards of what to make of magic, and “simple pleasures”: A strong hope for the miraculous in the everyday, instead of doubt towards the absurdly fantastic. [1][2][3] Jean-‐Pierre Jeunet. Amélie. Claudie Ossard Productions, 2001.
