Similarly to his previous film Mary and Max, Adam Elliot’s Memoir of a Snail follows two pen pals, only this time, they are twin siblings rather than a mismatched pair of strangers worlds away from each other. Australian Stop-motion animation master Elliot has again crafted a slice-of-life tragicomedy with a unique and memorable mix of humor and heart. There are times when Snail spins its wheels in tragedy for tragedy’s sake, but overall, it’s a decidedly-not-for-kids delight.
Grace Pudel (voice of Sarah Snook) is a snail-obsessed young adult trapped in a shell partly of her own making. She lives in the home of her adoptive parents, who have since retired to a nudist colony (remember what I said about this not being for kids?). Grace spends a lot of time with her elderly friend Pinky (voice of Jacki Weaver), whose wild energy and zest for life helps Grace heal from some of her past traumas. After the deaths of their parents, Grace and her twin brother Gilbert (voice of Kodi Smit-McPhee) were separated. Gilbert was sent to live with a horribly repressive family of religious fanatics, and he has sent his sister letters of his struggles over the years. Grace relates her backstory, along with Gilbert’s and Pinky’s, to Sylvia, her favorite snail.
Much of the story is retrospective on Grace’s part after Pinky’s death early in the film. It’s a crossroads in her life, and the film is ultimately about spreading your wings (or shedding your shell, in this case) and embracing life despite its many challenges. Comedy is a key element in delivering this message — Elliot’s sense of humor is Aardman Animation gone adult. He makes the tone clear early in Grace’s reminiscences of her childhood, wherein Gilbert defended her from bullies, no matter how much violence the moment called for. Mind you, the violence is comic, but still a step or two beyond what you’d see in most other animated films.
Of course, the animation itself is stunning. Any time you see a film by a director and crew with such skill in the medium of stop-motion, it’s wonderful to witness any story they’re telling. Here, Elliot creates a strange little haven in a heightened version of Canberra, with unforgettable characters in roles large and small. Pinky essentially steals the entire movie. She’s like some kind of mystical scarecrow (her wrinkles are exaggerated) here to point us all in the right direction. Through her various odd jobs and wild excursions, Grace and the audience are encouraged to grab life by the horns and never let go.
Particularly in the scenes involving Gilbert, I do feel that Snail got a bit sluggish. It’s not so much that I minded the trajectory of his story or the message encased within, but I found myself asking, “how much more can these children endure?” In Elliot’s capable hands, there’s a likable Roald Dahl sensibility about that kind of thing, and it certainly never lost me as a film overall, but it’s sometimes a bit difficult to keep laughing at the visual gags in the midst of the sheer amount of hardship Gilbert goes through. But, as I’ve alluded to, perhaps that’s part of the message here as well. If we’ve lost the ability to laugh during difficult times, we may as well hide in our shells forever. Difficulty never ends, but it is never the end. | George Napper
Memoir of a Snail was featured in the 2024 St. Louis International Film Festival (SLIFF). Further information about the Festival, which runs Nov. 7-17, is available from the festival website.
