MOVIE THOUGHTS - 'April And The Extraordinary World'

There are moments in April And The Extraordinary World, including shots of a secret city smothered in overgrowth and even a walking mansion, where you'll swear you're watching a Studio Ghibli feature. But this is French import from Je Suis Bien Content, the studio behind 'Persepolis', who gives us a new graphic novel adaptation that freely borrows Miyazaki-inspired imagery but substantially tones down the sentiment in favor of riveting pulp fiction.

It's an alternate timeline where the Bonapartist empire has survived into the 1940s, and technology has not evolved beyond the Industrial Revolution due to the disappearance of the world's most pivotal scientists. The titular April is the daughter of two such scientists who are illegally developing electricity and an invincibility serum that can cure all illness. One imperial pursuit later, April is orphaned and forced to spend her teenage years attempting to recreate the serum and locate her parents, all with the aid of her talking cat Darwin, romantic sidekick Julius, and grandfather Pops.

The mystery-laden plot is tight as a drum, and co-writer Benjamin Legrand (co-author of the graphic novel series that became 'Snowpiercer') knows how to keep things moving, though the narrative jam-packs an awful lot of exposition into not one but two prologues. When the second act does slow down, however, it is for choice throwaway images that reveal bonds between characters (there is a brief shot of a closet full of differently-sized pink dresses: Pops is prepared to die waiting for his granddaughter to return).

Directors Christian Desmares and Francke Ekinci have adapted April And The Extraordinary World from a graphic novel by Jacques Tardi, who's 'ligne claire' (clear line) style of drawing recalls Herge's 'Tintin' (another universe rooted in pulp). That style is digitally enhanced here, and the production design lends an inspired steampunk look to a vintage Paris that gives automobiles their own boilers and the Eiffel Tower a twin. And Valentin Hadjadj's score, a fairly seamless combination of real and synth orchestration, provides a main title overture that oozes adventure from the get-go.

I caught a very early screening of this film, though the GKids logo in front of it indicates wider U.S. distribution is on the way. GKids is rapidly becoming the face of independent feature animation in the States (they've acquired all of Ghibli's filmography), and more power to them: they're guaranteeing a standard of quality characterized by uniqueness. I have no clue what I'm going to get when they release a foreign animated film, and April And The Extraordinary World is no exception.