‘Maya, Give Me a Title’ Review: Michel Gondry Dreams Up a Deliciously Silly World of Stop-Motion Adventure

by

Approximately three-quarters into Michel Gondry‘s short, rich, imaginative, and freeing film, the storyteller momentarily halts a yarn about squirrels swiping hammocks to query, “Where might this narrative lead?” At this stage in the bizarrely serious madness of “Maya, Give Me a Title“, it becomes evident: The story can go wherever. And that’s a positive aspect.

Maya is Gondry’s daughter and his creative collaborator on a long-term project spanning six years, which began when she was just 4. This collaboration has culminated in the creation of this lively hour-long feature film. To maintain closeness despite their geographical distance, the director of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind devised an innovative approach: Maya would serve as the concept creator for a movie she’d star in. Whenever she came up with a title for a film adventure, Gondry would take that idea and, over a period of two to six weeks, develop a stop-motion short for Maya to watch.

In the big-screen adaptation, the words initially spoken to Maya by her mother are instead presented through enthusiastic voiceover narration and portrayed by Pierre Niney (previously starred in Gondry’s film, “The Book of Solutions”). The English subtitles are creatively designed with simple and visually appealing graphics that blend seamlessly into the overall aesthetic. The humorous episodes are further enriched by Jean-Michel Bernard’s delightful score, as well as carefully chosen tracks by music supervisor Frédéric Junqua, which add a nostalgic touch of ’50s-’60s exuberance and suspenseful playfulness.

In the process of compiling an assortment of animated shorts, Gondry incorporated live-action introductions by the lively Maya. She speaks directly to the camera within a space initially devoid of decor, gradually transforming it into a fully furnished room complete with art and various items – mirroring how the shorts progressively develop in complexity while maintaining a peculiar yet realistic logic. This evolution reaches its peak in the elaborate spectacle titled “Maya in the Sea With a Bottle of Ketchup”. While I won’t reveal the plot details, it’s worth mentioning that Belgian fries play a pivotal role in this tale of impending ecological crisis.

Gondry clearly illustrates, using Niney’s narration and visual demonstrations, a succinct breakdown of the production process and the development of his self-taught stop-motion method. Starting with tableaus crafted from construction paper, scissors, and Scotch tape, then speeding them up on a smartphone to create “moving” scenes, he advances to a more complex 12-frames-per-second system, yet preserves the homemade feel of this paper universe. The color scheme is vivid yet nuanced, preferring deep secondary hues over primary ones.

Characters include Doubidou, a feline hero who rescues Maya from being trapped in a giant snowball (apparently, cats often save children, but this act goes unnoticed). There are also mischievous cats that can make you lose your sardines or computer cables, not to mention a fish clock, a colossal robot, and an aircraft constructed from everyday items, propelled by birds. A concoction intended to diminish cucumbers (the source of those pickles, if you were wondering) inadvertently shrinks Maya instead, sending her hurtling down the drain and into the sewer system. In another instance, a peek beneath the city reveals Maya and her mother encountering Gondry playing a drum kit deep underground – part of a “documentary” about an earthquake, with Maya fearlessly capturing the event as a photographer.

Regardless of whether she’s a photographer, a naval officer, a mythical sea creature, or a disguised police officer, her purpose isn’t dictated by any grand design but rather by the intrigue of ‘what if’. The humor stays grounded and avoids delving too deeply into self-referential territory. Furthermore, the simple nods to typical movie genres are kept light and uncomplicated.

In this fresh take, Gondry broadens his diverse cinematic portfolio with this revitalizing fairy tale, showcasing yet another layer of his imaginative prowess (and hinting at a certain impulse; when Maya refuses to name a title for the next short, his reaction is hilarious). Stepping outside its initial audience of one, the writer-director serves up an irresistible blend of the absurd and amusing for viewers of all ages. The sky’s the limit in this realm, where anything can unfold, so it’s best to simply embrace the journey, much like Maya as she plunges down the bathtub drain or soars into the skies on her bird-plane.

Read More

2025-02-21 00:25