Watched in the cinema (41st visit in 2022)

The French can be charming and romantic, we know that. French cinema is often reduced to how much they know how to play with the heart. So much so that it sometimes tends towards unimaginative complaisance. But just how imaginative it can be was proven in 2001 by "Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain", which was given a one-off re-screening yesterday in German cinemas as part of the Best of Cinema series, which I couldn't pass up. The story about an attractive young woman who ends up in the arms of an equally attractive young man may be quite ordinary at its core. But it is by no means the path to the obligatory happy ending. Instead, the romantic comedy is one of the most idiosyncratic, quirky and yet crowd-pleasing representatives of its kind.

It was to be expected that the film would be a little different, since it was the latest work by Jean-Pierre Jeunet. And he had already proven with "Delicaessen" and "La Cité de les Entfants Perdus" that he has a vision all his own. What was unexpected, however, was that after his previous dark films, he would and, above all, was able to put this penchant for the deviant into such a friendly guise. His penchant for the morbid has not completely disappeared here; at the beginning there is a nasty incident that makes Amélie a half-orphan. Later, too, there will be one or two tragic stories, when the Frenchman presents us above all with failed characters who despair of love, of artistic ambitions, who are all prisoners somewhere.

But "Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain" counters this with liberating fantasy. Amélie, who already used her imagination as a child to escape the joyless, confining everyday life, will now use her talent to make the lives of others more beautiful. What makes the film special is the main character herself. Audrey Tautou may look like an innocent deer when she bats her big eyes. Unlike in many romantic films, however, her Amélie is not condemned to make herself up and wait for her prince. She goes out, becomes active herself, drives the plot forward. And she does it with humour, a mischievous humour that manifests itself in various inventive pranks. Some accuse the character of having psychopathic traits, but I would disagree.

The mixture of childish fantasy and manipulative mischief is entertaining, even in the passages where "Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain" dutifully follows conventions. In addition, practically every character who appears here at some point has their quirks. Whether it's the hypochondriac colleague, the painter with the fragile bones or even Nino, who starts daydreaming at the sight of the lost photos - Jeunet and his frequent co-author Guillaume Laurant have created a series of eccentrics who would probably not be able to survive in a real world.

But "Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain" has little to do with the real world. Here, a Paris is created that ostensibly depicts the end of the 1990s, but nevertheless represents a self-contained world that looks enraptured and nostalgic, if only because of the dominant yellow tones. More than a love story, the film is therefore a fairy tale that gently takes on the various losers and lets them triumph in the end. Instead of resting on feel-good kitsch, as others might have done, Jeunet sees his film as a plea to look for the special in the ordinary, the hidden treasures of everyday life, and to go through life with open eyes. And that also applies outside this bubble of wonder that is so colourful and yet so fragile.