By Jake Wilson
★★½
Not many films this year have left me as ambivalent as the Robinson Crusoe fantasy The Red Turtle, a first feature by the Dutch-British animator Michael Dudok de Wit, who has won awards – including an Oscar – for his shorter works.
Visually it's exquisite, well up to the high standards set by the famed Japanese animation house Studio Ghibli, who recruited de Wit for the project (Isao Takahata, one of the Ghibli founders, is credited as creative producer).
But the stripped-back story, told without dialogue, is a far cry from Ghibli classics such as Spirited Away or Pom Poko, strongly plotted films that blend lyricism with inventively grotesque humour.
De Wit's contemplative style is distinctly European, harking back to the tradition of ligne claire illustration also referenced in the recent French production April and the Extraordinary World: clear outlines, solid blocks of contrasting colour, and a careful balance of detail and abstraction.
The forests and beaches of the deserted island setting are idealised yet realistically drawn (using graphic tablets rather than pen and paper). Much less vivid than this background, the mute castaway hero is a simplified figure with dots for eyes, archetypal rather than cartoonish.
There's no denying the care that de Wit has put into bringing this idyllic world to life, especially when it comes to the island's non-human population – from tiny crabs skittering across the sands to the ponderous aquatic movement of the gigantic red turtle itself (actually bronze, beneath its scarlet shell).
Neither friendly nor hostile, these creatures represent the unknowable mystery of the natural world. After struggling for a period, the hero is able to accept his destiny and become part of the life cycle in turn.
Having said this much, I've given away at least half of the film's plot. I won't spoil things further, except to note that the script is co-written by France's Pascale Ferran – a notable filmmaker in her own right, whose 2007 DH Lawrence adaptation Lady Chatterley tells a primal love story not totally unrelated to what happens here.
In case this comparison prompts alarm, I should add that de Wit handles "adult concepts" very discreetly. Still, the film can hardly be recommended for children, except very patient ones: the lack of action – or more than occasional moments of humour – is bound to take its toll.
To this viewer, too, The Red Turtle resembles a short film padded to feature length, and I confess that its 80 minutes felt very long.