“Memoir of a Snail” Review

Stop-motion animation has the remarkable quality of feeling real with its practical puppets while remaining whimsical in a world built one frame at a time. From the adapted conversations of Creature Comforts to the rustic reflections of Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, a tactile nature makes these movies relatable. Director Adam Elliot found a great balance between cartoonish and real in his landmark stop-motion film, Mary and Max. But Memoir of a Snail may be his magnum opus for how beautifully personal and gutwrenching human it becomes in evoking the strongest emotions, perhaps even more than one would expect from a quirky animated film.

The snail-obsessed Grace Pudel (Sarah Snook) narrates her life story, relaying to her snail companion how her obsession with snails formed. Grace’s life is one of hardship from the moment she was born. He her birth led to the death of her mother and an extra slit in her mouth that made her look like a rabbit. The cruelty of children leads to her adopting the admiration of the snail, able to hide in a shell when the world gets too rough. Despite the problems of her disabled father (Dominique Pinon), she finds comfort with her twin brother Gilbert. They stick together during the worst of times when bullies can be easily beaten back with a broken finger. It’s a dynamic where Grace learns to look on the brighter side of life, where she brings Christmas cheer to a homeless man, even if he was fired from his judge duties for masturbating on the job.

The little joys of Grace’s life come in the form of snails and new relationships. These comforts have extra charm when considering the greater problems she faces. The death of her father leads to her being split from her brother and placed in the care of swinging foster parents. The foster parents offer little comfort that you have to laugh at their absurd orgies and trips to nudist colonies. One would have to laugh at Gilbert’s ultra-capitalist and disturbingly religious foster parents if only to fight off the tears of them denying Gilbert’s freedom, be it from custody or for his sexuality.

Thankfully, Grace finds comfort in her bond with the colorful elder, Pinky (Jacki Weaver). Pinky has a wild history of being a table dancer, traveling the world, and sleeping with celebrities. She also knows misfortune with her previous husbands, who have all died unexpectedly and darkly comedic ways. Her experience with life’s worst moments makes her the perfect ally for Grace, who could use someone when navigating the hardest moments of her life. When unexpected deaths and bad romances form, Pinky is always there with her wiry hair, half a finger, and warm words of encouragement (as well as invigorating insults of calling terrible drivers dickheads).

This is the type of sweet film that doesn’t shy away from reality, made clear by the Earthy color palette, which gives off an organic quality. Elliot’s characters may be squat with big eyes, but they have a realism in their depiction. Grace is unique for looking portly and having body issues that are only made worse by her deceptive first boyfriend. There’s a refreshing manner in how she speaks about virginity and nudity with the same casual nature as how the film presents these elements. Nothing is off limits, making Grace’s depression, grief, and affluenza sting as she recognizes the parts of herself that she hates. A gentleness soon takes over, but also a bitter admission that life can suck sometimes. It’s hard to remain stoic when everything seems to be against you and the honesty of this film to admit that amid all its quirks evoked some tears.

The life-affirming moments of Memoir of a Snail reveal a gentleness buried in its muddy nature. While sharing the same format as Mary and Max, there’s a greater sense of sadness and sweetness that takes over this picture as much as it bites at religion and misogyny. I enjoyed watching Grace make her small triumphs over adversity, hoping there’s somebody to love around the next corner with the same longing and contemplation we all share in our most introspective moments. A film that can do all that and still find funny things to do with snails and dancing is wondrous to get lost within, crafted in a personal and all-encompassing manner to feel like the most essential of adult animation.