Anomalisa

January 31, 2016
Comments off
1,087 Views

Anomolisa, beautiful, moving, impeccably crafted Anomolisa. Very rarely can films be so hauntingly heart wrenching and uncomfortably engaging. Yet in its dreamy, stop-motion realism Anomolisa creates a space to mourn the loss of love and examine how it makes so much of the seemingly-drab world worth it for those precious instances of connection. All, of course, with puppets.

If you’re on your way into the theater, chances are you already know you’re about to watch a movie that’s made entirely with puppets. What you may not be expecting is just how real that world with puppets will be.

Anomolisa follows its protagonist Michael, an HR expert and author, as he travels to a speaking engagement in Cleveland (try the chili!). As he crosses paths with more and more people, you begin to realize they seem to have a lot in common: all the characters besides Michael have the same facial features and same voice, all voiced by actor Tom Noonan. Once he gets to the his room and checks in with his wife and son (who also have the same voice as the rest of the world), Micael debates calling an old flame who lives in Cleveland. The same generic face continues to appear on everyone and the oddly unnerving calm of Noonan’s voice echoes everywhere. Michael’s voice and face is the only outlier in the sea of Tom Noonans. (spoilers below, but you should still see it)

Until he meets Lisa, who is there to see him speak, enamored with a fan-girl like awe and naivety. The rest of the film follows his apparent pattern of intense love and obsession with a person of desire until that sad, strange moment when she begins to be human to him. Once he begins to perceive her as a person with flaws, as a whole complex person, not just a novice accidental wonder woman whose sole purpose is to bring amazement into his life, she begins to morph into the world of generic faces. And back Michael goes into being the only unique being in the world. Back he goes into a sad lonely existence unconnected to anyone.

Technically, Anomolisa is marvelous. There’s an inherent sense of miniature grandeur in this stop-motion world. So much reality replicated to the most minute detail visually and auditorily, it’s a stunning feat to witness. And in animating a feature in stop motion, you truly appreciate every second of what makes it to the screen. Because every second was 24 frames, 24 minor adjustments to those puppets, to the scenery and tiny props. Every cut, every fidget of a character has to be carefully considered and calculated because, if it’s not going to make it into the final picture, why spend the time perfecting filming it? (I wonder if more live-action films were planned this way, where every second on screen is precious, we wouldn’t see a shift in quality and a break from the all too sacred beat-by-beat Hollywood standard structure)
That careful balance of crafting of the story and shooting, it seems obvious, is why there’s no unnecessary extraneous story. We don’t cut back to the family and his kid, we just hear them on the phone. We don’t see Lisa before she appears in Michael’s world. And it all works to making this particular time of Michael’s life all the more poignant. Flashbacks, letters, dream sequences and public speeches all build this one tragic story of isolation, rather than branching out into the world beyond Michael’s myopia.

And Michael’s selfish world is what makes Anomolisa resonate so uncomfortably. His standoffish, unconnected and predatory nature makes him unlikeable from the get-go. But there is a sad almost naive sweetness in his intense emotions for Lisa that are almost redemptive. It’s an endearing effect that Anomolisa builds to, literally having that one special person feel so different from the rest of the world. Perhaps there’s hope for him after all, to start a life where he’s more than his

But Michael never seems to be able to break inward enough to see his own flaws and change or break outward enough to really connect to someone else who doesn’t stay on a pedestal. Like a man trapped on a roundabout, Michael appears to be going forward, but never really exits to a new route. Almost cautionary in its tragedy, and tragic in its message, Anomolisa seems to warn against inviting someone like Michael into your life. How relieved are you that Lisa escapes a commitment to Michael when he’s the kind of person who drops her at the first sight of something that doesn’t fit into what he wants her to be? But isn’t it interesting that the film drives us to want to connect to and revile Michael? Writing him off as a bad person, not worth our energy, time, sympathy and ultimately someone to avoid, is just something that Michael himself would do, after spending a few days with his true self.

Anomolisa, beautiful, moving, impeccably crafted Anomolisa. Very rarely can films be so hauntingly heart wrenching and uncomfortably engaging. Yet in its dreamy, stop-motion realism Anomolisa creates a space to mourn the loss of love and examine how it makes so much of the seemingly-drab world worth it for those precious instances of connection. All, of course, with puppets. If you’re on your way into the theater, chances are you already know you’re about to watch a movie that’s made entirely with puppets. What you may not be expecting is just how real that world with puppets will be. Anomolisa follows its protagonist Michael, an HR expert and author, as he travels to a speaking engagement in Cleveland (try the chili!). As he crosses paths with more and more people, you begin to realize they seem to have a lot in common: all the characters besides Michael have the same facial features and same voice, all voiced by actor Tom Noonan. Once he gets to the his room and checks in with his wife and son (who also have the same voice as the rest of the world), Micael debates calling an old flame who lives in Cleveland. The same generic face continues to appear on everyone and the oddly unnerving calm of Noonan’s voice echoes everywhere. Michael’s voice and face is the only outlier in the sea of Tom Noonans. (spoilers below, but you should still see it) Until he meets Lisa, who is there to see him speak, enamored with a fan-girl like awe and naivety. The rest of the film follows his apparent pattern of intense love and obsession with a person of desire until that sad, strange moment when she begins to be human to him. Once he begins to perceive her as a person with flaws, as a whole complex person, not just a novice accidental wonder woman whose sole purpose is to bring amazement into his life, she begins to morph into the world of generic faces. And back Michael goes into being the only unique being in the world. Back he goes into a sad lonely existence unconnected to anyone. Technically, Anomolisa is marvelous. There’s an inherent sense of miniature grandeur in this stop-motion world. So much reality replicated to the most minute detail visually and auditorily, it’s a stunning feat to witness. And in animating a feature in stop motion, you truly appreciate every second of what makes it to the screen. Because every second was 24 frames, 24 minor adjustments to those puppets, to the scenery and tiny props. Every cut, every fidget of a character has to be carefully considered and calculated because, if it’s not going to make it into the final picture, why spend the time perfecting filming it? (I wonder if more live-action films were planned this way, where every second on screen is precious, we wouldn’t see a shift in quality and a break from the all too sacred beat-by-beat Hollywood standard structure) That careful balance of…

9.1

Emotion Animated

Score

9.1

9

Carolyn (Notline) Maher’s love of independent film can be traced back to her first job working at an independent theater in Cary, NC (RIP Galaxy Cinema). After volunteering to project films during the Cucalorus Film Festival she became a staff member at the festival for the next three years while completing her degree in Film Studies at UNC Wilmington. She continues to work with Cucalorus in various capacities, most recently as their Filmmaker Lounge Coordinator. After moving to New York City she jumped into the world of commercial post-production for nearly 3 years. During those first few years in the city she produced the feature-length documentary, TRICHSTER, and made the move into producing full time. Carolyn now works as a producer for One Glass Video, a Brooklyn-based production company that specializes in short-form content. She is also currently producing a feature-length “no budget” film titled MEME and sometimes makes micro stop motion animations. The Maher family motto is "in periculis audax" which means “bold in danger.”

Comments are closed.