(Canada, 100 min.)
Written and directed by Martin Talbot
Starring:
Victor Andrés Trelles Turgeon, Sophie Desmarais, Marcel Sabourin
Allons-y on a trip to the strange and magical world of Henri Henri. Henri (Victor Andrés Trelles Turgeon) doesn’t know his
own last name, so he simply offers an awkward smile and a nod whenever
strangers introduce themselves and wait to hear his full name. “Henri…?” they
ask as Henri holds an infectious grin and responds, “Henri, Henri,” affirming
their understanding of his first name without understanding that they’re probing
for his family name.
Henry searches for his
family name himself in one of the subplots that gets muddled amidst the
sprawling whimsy of Henri Henri.
Henri, an orphan, lost his parents two Christmases in a row when his dad walked
out on him one year and his mom died on him the next, so he promises himself
that he’ll reunite with his father one day and learn his full identity. Henri
really indentifies with the light, though, since he enjoys the cushy job of
changing light bulbs in the orphanage where he lives in his adult years until
some changes put him out on the street. Henri, still searching for purpose,
finds a job with an electrician and continues his mission of, as he calls it, “bringing
light to the world.” He also strikes up a friendship with a local pickle baron
(Marcel Sabourin), falls in love with the bind office clerk at the local porn
theatre (Sophie Desmarais), and struts to the local diner in a lime green suit
along the way.
Henri Henri is strange and quirky in its own endearingly rambling way. Victor
Andrés Trelles Turgeon carries the bright aimlessness of the film well with his
jovial and inquisitive spirit. Henri and, in turn, Henri Henri, shares the charm of films like Amélie with its electric aesthetics and offbeat story about one
oddball bringing joy to the lives of others. The daft Henri (whose peculiarity
never fully explains itself) isn’t quit the same waif as Amélie is, so Henri Henri finds itself in a bit of a
pickle as Henri brightens up the lives of the M. Binot and Hélène with the help
of some coincidence, chance, faith, and magical realism. The film assembles a
strange and timeless world that has everything from a wizard to a talking fox
(a highlight) and while every frame of Henri
Henri is a beautiful novelty, the film itself never comes together as a
whole.
Some moments feel
weird for the sake of being weird, while more ideas float around than dust
particles around the many dazzling lights that catch Henri’s eyes. Why so many tourists
flock to gawk at a reclusive pickle baron and why Hélène has the power to “see”
to compensate with for her blindness are two oddities that never really see
themselves through. Desmarais and Sabourin are fine as Hélène and M. Binot,
respectively, but their attraction to the earnest and seemingly dim Henri also
falls into the trap of patronizing Henri’s own social awkwardness and delayed
mental abilities by contrasting his potential dimness with the literal and
figurative light with which he brightens their lives.
Writer/director Martin
Talbot’s spirited effort nevertheless delivers an impeccably crafted film. The
bright cinematography by Mathieu Laverdière is warm and playful, while the
charming musical score by Patrick Lavoie consistently enchants and guides the
film through its unexpected flights of imagination that straddle fantasy and
reality for the wide-eyed Henri. (The cinematography and score are among six
worthy crafts nominations at this year’s Canadian Screen Awards.) Henri Henri is a bright and frequently endearing
comedy: it might be 60 watts but it always looks like 100.
Rating: ★★½ (out of ★★★★★)
Henri Henri is now available on home video.