It’s taken several years for me to acclimate to watching
foreign films. I could never quite
adjust to the seeming off-timing of words to lip movements. It’s not just animated foreign films that
have this problem; plenty of live-action films have it, too. My first foray into the genre was with a
friend back in high school; alas, I don’t remember which film. Regardless, when I presented my objections,
the friend watching the movie with me declared “That’s just how it is,” and so
I decided I hated them all and would stick to American movies.

Upon discovering this difference, I immediately gave foreign
films another go, this time subscribing to the Subs camp methodology. My goodness, did it make a difference for
me. I’ll admit, with some surrealist
films, keeping track of the visual symbolism and metaphors AND the words at the
bottom can be challenging, but in all others, I don’t feel like the dialogue is
rushed or ill-timed. I don’t feel like
I lose a piece of the story because the exact translation into English wasn’t
enough syllables, or was too many syllables, and therefore the writer changed
them so the voice-to-lip synchronization wasn’t so “off.” And the more I watch films from a particular
country, the more I learn bits of the language.


To quote the text on the back of the Blu-ray case, “Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart is a
fantastical, wildly inventive tale of love and heartbreak – by turns poignant
and funny – in which Jack finally learns the great joys, and ultimately the
greater costs, of owning a fully formed heart.”
This is absolutely true, but also misleading. The story is primarily one of what Jack
suffers to find and be with his love, Miss Acacia, but it also deals with
themes like courage, sacrifice, abuse, standing up for oneself, and what people
endure when they’re perceived as different. I also found it interesting that the author includes a brief but telling
scene from Joe’s point of view. If you
pause for a moment and think about it, everyone views themselves as the
protagonists of their life story. In
Joe’s case, he’s the king of the schoolyard, ensuring order and security by
exercising fear-motivated control, protecting his Acacia from a strange,
unpredictable, and violent mechanical-operated boy. Of course, conversely, Jack sees Joe’s fate
as one he deserves for tormenting those weaker than himself.
The film is visually stimulating, from the
unique animation style to the surrealistically influence narrative, moving from
reality to dream with seamless transition.
Songs are an especially good example of how Jack’s inner life switches
between the two with startling continuity.
Moons swallow flying trains, a soul greets someone with a kiss, people
float on air when speaking of love; there’s even a bizarre and seemingly
pointless encounter with Jack the Ripper.
(Given Jack’s active imagination, Jack the Ripper could be Jack’s
perception of the world outside his home, or it could be his perception of an
alternate self, given what happened to make him leave Edinburgh.) Perhaps one of the most emotional scenes for
me in this movie is at the end, when death is portrayed as simply the freedom
from time – all the world stops, and the dead can climb snowflakes to heaven.
While Jack and Joe seem pretty straightforward characters,
Miss Acacia was not. I admired her for
her frankness in telling Jack she was in love with someone else and that “embarking
on an adventure” with him would be “dishonest.”
Too often we have female characters that are easily swayed by the
immediate feelings of someone close by.
Acacia remains steadfast in this until Jack reveals who he is, at which
point we see that they could potentially be very happy. Of course, Joe then rolls back into the picture
and tells his version of the same story (which we all know is skewed to steal
Acacia from Jack). Here’s my dilemma:
how often have we, in reality, been madly infatuated with someone, only to have
our assumptions about that person brought to a grinding halt as soon as there’s
even a smidgeon of violent element? Joe
uses this hesitation to his advantage, showing Acacia the “vicious” side of
Jack when Jack is simply defending himself.
Unfortunately, Acacia buys right into it. I’m not saying it isn’t wise to rethink one’s
attachment to a person if that person starts showing abusive tendencies. But I am saying it would behoove us to
observe and conclude for ourselves if such an accusation is true. I’ve been on both the giving and the
receiving end of false accusations. Many
a life can be ruined by careless words.
There’s so many different layers to Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart.
It would probably take several watches to pick up on all the
nuances. As end credits rolled, I sat
there listening to the music, contemplative of the themes the author chose to
grapple. It makes me want to read the
book. As with most adaptations, many
things are left out or changed for the sake of cinematic story-telling; but in
this case, we ALSO have a difference in language. I feel there is so much more to this story
than the English can portray, which is why I’m so glad I was mistaken about the
lack of French audio track. This film is
certainly worth a watch, given the beauty of the world Mathias Malzieu created
in the novel and the screenplay.
Surrealism and symbolism aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you like it
after first view, definitely add it to your collection.
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