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A Colourful, Moral Storybook of a Film

Arco might be the most Studio Ghibli movie that Studio Ghibli never made. Certainly, it’s among the more successful attempts to imitate that peculiar magic of Ghibli in a non-Japanese culture, in both the look and the general quaint spirit of the piece. But it is also a movie that Ghibli has never made; much as it fits their mold, it does not come off as any direct derivation. And in fact, a few of its choices do genuinely stand on their own, with a degree of maturity and severity distinct even from the poetic notes of Miyazaki’s best films, up to and including the bittersweet nature of the ending.
The movie is French and directed by Ugo Bienvenu, though it comes to North America with an English dub courtesy of Natalie Portman, one of its producers. The dub is fine -very much like those latter Ghibli films- but it is sad to lose the likes of Swann Arlaud and Louis Garrel to Mark Ruffalo and America Fererra. The two children however seem to retain much of their original innocence with unknown newcomer actors, and they really are the glue of the movie -alongside its ample and uncompromising onslaught of colour -the signature piece of sci-fi technology being visualized in copious forms of rainbow.
Interestingly set across two futuristic timelines, Arco follows its titular character from the 30th century, living in a Utopian world of highly advanced technology in cloud civilizations high above the surface of the Earth which has long been flooded. Measured time travel is a significant part of their culture, achieved through careful flying in long, rainbow cloaks -but it is restricted to anyone under twelve. Arco is a ten-year-old boy, envious of his parents and older sister’s ability to time travel, and so at night he steals his sisters’ cloak and attempts it himself, but with no proper training winds up getting lost in the timeline, surfacing in the year 2075 -a fairly contemporary world, but for an abundance of robots. There he is found by a girl called Iris and the two try to figure out a way to get him back to his time.
The film’s mixture of high and low stakes are well represented by the animation, which is both highly creative and sensational to look at, and a little bit muted when it comes to expression -the characters’ faces -especially the kids- are a little bit flat at times in a manner not too dissimilar to anime but less aesthetically appealing. It’s not a huge detriment to the movie though, which is interesting and flamboyant to watch in many other ways. The anime influence is clear but so too is that of other European cartoons and sources -The Little Prince comes to mind- and it ultimately results in a fairly distinct look that does the story justice.
The twin worlds of the film are compelling too, offering a little degree of curious commentary. It would have been the easier path of the film to have Arco turn up in the modern day, or even some period in the past, as a point of contrast with his era. But the film is sharper for its choice to depict both an idyllic distant future and a somewhat more dystopian near future -dystopian at least in subtle ways. 2075 is not a cyberpunk authoritarian hellscape, but it is very reminiscent of the somewhat hollow future of a film like After Yang or The Beast, where humanity is at risk of losing its connection to a vital aspect of itself. Iris is never in the same space as her parents -they are instead represented in hologram from their work miles away, while she and her infant brother are cared for by a nanny robot called Mikki, who in a curious choice (and one that is only true of the English version) has a voice that is a splicing together of both parents, here Natalie Portman and Mark Ruffalo -as though the robot is a homunculus of the two, designed for comfort but vaguely unsettling. It is especially striking in this age of A.I., signifying a world in which the artificial constructs of people -down to their voices- are genuinely replacing them in the most important regions of their lives. Iris is not the only kid without parents around. Hers is a world that lets technology raise children in the most literal terms, and the apathetic dependence on it is startling. A sharp conception of the future and a believable one -far more so than the one that Arco comes from.
In the efforts to get Arco home, he and Iris come upon a series of obstacles -yet none that match the scope or gravity the film’s pretenses might suggest. It is simple things like the weather and law enforcement that pose a threat -there are a trio of conspiracy nuts who track Arco as well, but there’s no conspiracy out to get him. And so, for as heavy as the film’s concept is, the story’s stakes are very personal -Arco’s remorse over his action, Iris’s frustration with her parents not understanding her; these are what drive the narrative. And they are fairly interesting if a little dim compared to counterparts in Ghibli films. The relationship between Arco and Iris is never as fleshed out as it wants to be, but it does facilitate some nice moments, including one that involves the implication that Iris is an architect behind the societal infrastructure of Arco’s time.
The culmination of Arco’s journey to get back there is superb -the most beautifully evocative part of the movie capped by a sombre revelation that is very unlike the tone of a lot of children’s films. It has echoes of Interstellar, giving greater weight to Arco’s recklessness, and leaving his story in an emotionally difficult place. It is an admirably bold choice for the film, leaving the audience satiated but sitting with the gravity of consequence as Arco does. Iris doesn’t have the same conundrum, but she is moved by the last act too.
Arco is illustrated with a sense of humour throughout, usually in the form of the comic relief conspiracy characters (voiced in the dub by Will Ferrell, Andy Samberg, and Flea), though it doesn’t particularly translate -something else the movie has in common with anime. But this goes along with the movie’s humble tone. It has no sense of self-importance, the subtlety of its commentary -which doesn’t undercut its value- a marker of this as well. It feels a touch like a classic children’s story, up to its bittersweet conclusion, and that gives it an abiding charm. That and the extremely pretty animation. A lovely, earnest little movie, stunning yet gentle, of a kind that rejuvenates the art -gives it purpose in a diminished time.


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