As a waitress working at a cafe, Amélie’s disenchantment with people – their puerile predictability, their wasteful routine – reaches its peak. By the time she moved away, she had already taken refuge in a make-believe world where every moment has a feeling. Amélie grew up with neurotic and distant parents. Introverts are essentially people disappointed with the concept of people. Over time, I’ve learned that the madness lies in the failed method of this romance. ![]() Over time, however, as I’ve struggled with the paradoxical pitfalls of adult companionship, my personal focus has shifted to Amélie Poulain’s love story. It looked like a token insert, reiterating the long-standing cinematic misconception that a losing protagonist can only be rescued by the emergence of a soulmate. For once, silence sung a voice.Īmélie’s infatuation with a strange young man felt like an afterthought. Loneliness felt hopeful – more like an acquired superpower than a hereditary disease. A gaze was reinvented: Mundanity became an adventure of repetition, ordinariness became a playground of possibility, and fantasy became both ailment and cure. The portrait of a sad and dreamy frog in a well wore the vibrant energy of a happy beast in the wild. ![]() ![]() As an introvert, I felt represented: the vivid primary colour palette, Yann Tiersen’s melancholic music, the quirky characters and eccentric vignettes.Īmélie had canonised the language of isolation. I was 21 when I first watched Jean-Pierre Jeunet’sĪmélie, a French film about a 23-year-old Parisian waitress.
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