At the popular rise of 3D animation in the 2000s, as Pixar produced its greatest run of animated classics — Finding Nemo (2003), The Incredibles (2004), WALL-E (2008) — a French animator by the name of Sylvain Chomet was revitalizing 2D animation through valiant, auspicious efforts, which elevated European animation to global visibility. His style evokes a garish portrayal of people, with exaggerated features and warped details, that contrasts with his textured, expansive worlds and environments.
These elements have made his films last. Chomet’s influence can be seen in mainstream works, such as the opening sequence in Joker: Folie à Deux (2024) or a couch gag on The Simpsons (1989-). It’s no wonder that A Magnificent Life (2025), Chomet’s first animated film since The Illusionist (2010), is a passionate tribute to an unsung hero whom culture has largely ignored. A Magnificent Life is a reflective, endearing ode to artistic perseverance and creative ambition. It shows the kind of ambition that wasn’t appreciated in its time, yet has left a legacy that outlives the person.
This outing, a biopic of famed French artist Marcel Pagnol, is a significant departure from Chomet’s previous works. The story is told through the phases of fading memory, employing a flashback structure that may keep those unfamiliar with Pagnol at a distance. Yet, there’s a palpable love and reverence for Pagnol that Chomet can’t help but trek his life from womb to tomb, even if it feels fragmented in its 90-minute runtime.
Chomet begins in Paris in 1956, with Pagnol in his 60s, dismayed after a disappointing reception to one of his plays. He feels there’s nothing he can offer to the world. “This old Pagnol doesn’t interest people anymore,” he says before a friend from Elle magazine offers Pagnol to write his life story in a serialized manner.
This begins his difficult recollection, as he starts to connect with a child apparition of himself. They wade through Pagnol’s early childhood, where his love for writing poetry to his mother began when he was eight. After his mother’s death, Pagnol uproots his life to become a playwright, finding his calling as a significant pillar of French cinema and independent filmmaking. Chomet’s narrative leapfrogs through these events, often at the detriment of leaving you craving for more details.
The broad brushstrokes in which Chomet and his gifted animators paint these memories offer less of the bizarre, warped signature style he began with The Triplets of Belleville (2003). It’s traded for a more restrained, controlled style so as not to detract from Pagnol’s harrowing life. It’s an admirable pivot for the acclaimed filmmaker and a move that no doubt alienates Chomet fans, but offers an accessible entry point for newcomers.
One of the core issues A Magnificent Life faces is that Chomet clearly loves Pagnol and believes his influence on cinema has been underrepresented, which makes it hard to find a specific emotional crux to understand Pagnol as a person. It’s a central question that begins this journey back through time, leaving him stumped as to who he is and what he has to say.
The film links Pagnol’s struggle as a writer while maintaining a semblance of an interest in his plays, ‘Merchants of Glory’ and ‘Topaze.’ The pacing and succession of these scenes almost trivialize Pagnol’s life, reducing it to biographical bullet points. The structure keeps Pagnol at a distance, often showing him in long or medium shots, hardly any close-ups to allow any closeness or intimacy. This feeds into the serialized nature of the Elle magazine proposal, but it doesn’t help imbue Pagnol with emotional resonance.
The most endearing segment arrives when Pagnol’s interest in filmmaking is piqued. Chomet plays with styles, transitioning into a parody of silent films as old Pagnol and young Pagnol converse in the interest of moviemaking (complete with incorporating real-life footage from talking pictures and silent title cards). Pagnol feels the rush of excitement of cinema heightening his storytelling and character writing more than the stage, as the camera and sound offer limitless possibilities. Eventually, he convinces a Paramount executive to adapt his own play, Marius (1931). It’s a bustling, entertaining sequence that lampoons the chaotic, buzzing nature of Hollywood dynamics clashing with European sensibilities.
Chomet’s art style is characterized by beautiful environmental details and character expressions that are distinct enough to stand out. Chomet’s animation exhibits a high level of sophisticated vibrancy that is sorely lacking in today’s works, yet is unique for Chomet. Even within the framework of a biopic, the setting and environments are less focused on the fantastical designs of his prior films. The narrative is focused on a more immersive, grounded level of accuracy. Even in the one bit of fantastical realism that comes at the end of WWII, Pagnol fears the influence of American cinema will overtake French culture. It’s a hilarious depiction of French citizens transforming into gross, overweight Americans, erasing their French identity. Chomet still remembers how to have fun via exaggeration.
It’s clear Chomet has grown in the last decade, and much like Pagnol, Chomet is reflecting on the impact he’s had in the world of independent and international animation. A Magnificent Life doesn’t offer a comprehensive overview of Marcel Pagnol, but instead gives brief moments of profound beauty and stillness that artists like Chomet and Pagnol experience when they reflect on their lives. It’s hard to quantify our accomplishments in the present, much less our life path that feels both expansive and small.
Chomet’s A Magnificent Life draws a gorgeous, transportive window into the life of a pained artist who may not have experienced the adoration and fame he yearned for, yet retained his principles in creative expression against human hardships. Any artist could only hope a visionary like Sylvain Chomet would make a film about their life to remind people what they accomplished a century later.
Review Courtesy of Amritpal Rai
Feature Image Credit to Sony Pictures Classic via Animation Magazine