Is it possible for a movie to succeed as a child’s tale and
simultaneously maintain some real intellectual and emotional impact for an
adult? Normally I believe not. When I watch children’s movies now I’m able to
enjoy them on a number of levels but the ultimate impact of the movie is
tempered by the fact that the dialogue, plot and very substance of the movie
are often substantially “dumbed down” for a less sophisticated audience. The Red Balloon somehow avoids these pitfalls and provides as satisfying an experience
for the adult viewer as it does a magical one for a younger audience. Made in
1956 by French filmmaker Albert Lamorisse and starring his own children, the
film clocks in at only 34 minutes and has almost no dialogue. Perhaps it is
these very facts that account for its success. If Lamorisse tried to sustain
his magic for an hour and a half, or weighed it down with a lot of talking and
explaining, the movie might have lost its special edge, but as it stands it
manages to convey enough wonder for young audiences, yet packs enough
philosophical wallop for an adult watcher.
The plot is simple
enough: a boy finds a balloon on the street in a Paris slum. The balloon seems
to have a personality and mind of its own. The balloon follows the boy, and
seems to listen to him when he tells it to wait for him. The balloon itself
takes on the qualities of a child. It is by turns curious, recalcitrant, happy,
sad, playful, loyal and of course beautiful and irresistible. As the boy takes
his balloon to school, on the bus, to his home etc. the balloon is subjected to
many of the facets of the adult world; jealousy, greed, envy, cruelty and
ultimately the impulse to destroy those things we can’t control or understand.
As the boy and his balloon go through their day they seem to incur the wrath of
every facet of society ultimately resulting in seemingly every boy in Paris
chasing him through the street to destroy the balloon. In a beautifully filmed
sequence the balloon loses its air and painfully dies. Then, magically, every
balloon in Paris comes to the boy, Pascal, and lifts him above the gray streets
in a magnificent, uplifting finale.
The thing that
really sets The Red Balloon apart is the visual juxtaposition between
the bleak streets of the slum that Pascal inhabits and the buoyant, Technicolor
wonder of the red balloon itself. Lamorisse’s greatest achievement is that very
contrast. Through the masterful use of lighting and angle the balloon and its
overwhelming redness become a symbol of freedom, joy and childhood, bouncing
across the morose streets, facing the distress of the adult world with the
shield that its simple beauty and innocence provide.
I’ve seen The Red Balloon a number of times over the years, always expecting it to have lost its
magical sway over my imagination.
Surely this slight tale can’t still hold any surprise for me, yet this
time was by far the most satisfying. Lamorisse has seemingly done the
impossible: he has made an inanimate object the subject of real human emotion.
Your heart rises with Pascal, as a bouquet of brightly colored balloons carry
him over his sad Paris neighborhood, the potential magic promised by cinema is
right there, dazzling your eyes and lifting your spirit. Not bad for a 34
minute kids’ movie.
- Paul Epstein
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