dMYD DVD
Starring Gigantic Blue Tits
M
Hey, look out the porthole: isn’t that a relentlessly demented sci-fi animation from the seventies, produced by the French and thus loaded with philosophy and tits? Touchdown! Heavy handed religious-metaphors roam free over a landscape of Ricky Gervais’ time-tossed Flanimals rejects, stomping on the plains of visual whimsy with an annoying voice over and strange fixation on the parliamentary process of web-gilled space-Gods that detracts from the overall beauty of a mind running free with a tray of watercolours. At its best there’s the quality of Victorian prints brought to life, all delicate line work and detailed close ups, but sometimes it veers dangerously close to an extended Terry Gilliam animated segment, with its fast zooms and clumsy frame rate. Everything jerks like a hell-storm version of Jackanory, whilst the weird prevalence of nudity and vaguely-sexualised clothing makes it blindfold-worthy for the majority of kids it was probably aimed at, unless you’re a well-adjusted parent who realises everyone has a body or, you know, French.
The message behind it’s a complicated one, at least for an art form that’s routinely bracketed off in society’s playpen; there’s knowledge vs primitivism, revolution and free will all kicking around in here somewhere, and repeated viewings reveal it as a noble if simplistic attempt at instigating some Cold War debate from an unlikely source. The artistic failings come from its inability to sync up words and pictures: the design’s strong enough to carry a silent movie, but the pace and magic are routinely interrupted by whatever tin-eared translations the writers were desperate to get across. Watched on massive quantities of drugs though it’s delightful, with a fine line in suggestive shapes every eight seconds and a funk-tastic psycho-blobbing seventies soundtrack that deserves a dissertation of its own. Not great, but unique, and a perfect alternative to these dick-breath pimp-rats.
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