Film Review: “The Triplets of Belleville”
Film Review: “The Triplets of Belleville” The very first pictures of France's The Triplets of Belleville, Sylvain Chomet's sublime 2004 attribute, are instantly bewitching: a shimmering, understanding homage, attracted by Chomet's cartoonist team, into the beginnings of audio cartoon. A scratched bit of black celluloid unwinds on display. It is a wobbly, crude, early-1930s style animation in which a crudely caricatured viewer in a vaudeville house bobs and wobbles in rhythm into the live series. The tune they're crooning worries a mythical city of Belleville. The language? It is what everybody speaks in the film: a kind of muted, pidgin French. The image fuzzes and turns into inactive, the camera pulls back. That which we've been seeing is a cartoon-within-a-cartoon, playing a black-and-white TV display on a mammoth tv console. Triplets, actually revived, turns into color, and we're in a home somewhere in France in what seems to function as mid-1950s. (The only