Kirikou and the Sorceress

"Kirikou and the Sorceress" (1998 - 71 minutes) is a Franc-Belgian animation of highest quality, based on a Western Africa traditional legend. Written and directed by Michel Ocelot tells the history of Kiriku, a very small boy who already spoke when still in his mother belly. His fate: to face the powerful and evil Karabá sorceress, who dried the water source of his village, swallowed all the men who went to fight her and that still caught all the gold they had. To achieve his goals, Kiriku has to face many dangerous situations and venture for places where only a very small person could enter. At first, his tribe laughs at his small size, delaying to recognize his courage, brightness and wisdom. But Kiriku faces the power of the sorceress and her guardians, while the others can only fell fear of her. Kiriku goes to consult the wise old man of the mountain, who knows the secret of Karabá and, after that, goes to face the terrible sorceress. According to Michel Ocelot his film is a great chance to show to the African people some of their values. The script runs away from the obvious situations, has captivating characters and sound track signed by the Senegalian Yossou N ' Dour. A fascinating story of determination in the fight for freedom.

It's no surprise that this animated adventure is mostly culled from old West African legends, as it plays like a straightforward, unflinching fairy tale. Completely absurd notions, like the infant protagonist emerging at a dead sprint from his mother's womb, are dismissed offhand in the same vein as Little Red Riding Hood's incognito wolf. That fundamental acceptance frees up the storyline to be as wildly adventurous as it likes, and coats the whole endeavor in a veil of whimsy and charm. The result is a yarn on par with Miyazaki and Disney, although the uneven animation quality ultimately keeps it from reaching those lofty heights. At times it's as beautiful and fluid as the best western animation, with a style and panache all its own, but that dedication rarely lasts long. Bright, innocent and optimistic, it's solid fare for open-minded families who don't mind navigating a sea of topless native tribeswomen.

I saw this at a Museum of Modern Art screening in Manhattan and, completely unexpectedly, Michel Ocelot appeared to take questions from the audience. He said several things of interest to IMDb readers: first, that he grew up in French Guinea, and that much of the flavor of the film is based on his childhood memories. Second, though this movie played all over Europe, the wonderful African-accented dub in English (and also in French) is not echoed in other languages because it wouldn't be authentic. Third, the movie was applauded everywhere it played in Europe, but England and America "have a problem with breasts." In the US it had to be released (a very limited release) without a rating, because it would inevitably be rated R (for breasts) and thus children wouldn't be able to see it. Fourth, it was loved in Africa where it played. Screening conditions were less than ideal, but Ocelot & co. made an effort to take the movie to the bush.

Parents, you children will NOT see this delightful film unless you stay up all night and tape if for them (if you live in USA). This film is rated "Mature audiences", which means American television cannot show it except on premium cable in the middle of the night. The reason for this is that women in West Africa have never worn anything above the waist, and they are authentically illustrated, without guilt or shame, in their every-day clothing. Not suitable for children in the USA, but perfectly alright in the rest of the world.

Kirikou has a joyful feel, despite the harsh oppression of the village by the witch and her various "fetishes". It's the only animated feature I'm aware of based on West African traditions, and it seemed reasonably authentic in its portrayal of the village and its environments - though I don't actually know if it got anything right beyond the baobob tree. It's true that the villagers' breasts are bared, but also worth noting that neither of my kiddos (6 and 8) even commented on it. We had all enjoyed Michael Ocelot's shorts, collected in the Tales of the Night, and at 68 minutes, this film feels like an extended short. The major draw, of course, is Kirikou, whom my son especially found appealing: walking and talking straight from the womb, a fast runner, brave, and wise, and thus celebrated by the villagers in song.