‘Moomins On The Riviera’ – Review
Moomins on the Riviera (Dir. Xavier Picard) is a mischievous, gently satirical adaptation of Tove Jansson’s classic Moomin comic strip.
For fans, the rotund denizens of Moominvalley need no introduction. But for non-devotees, particularly those who only know Moomins as confined to mugs and tea towels, these Finnish creatures remain a source of mystery. Perhaps – behind those ink dot pupils – even malice.
There are a million web sources that can give you a detailed synopsis of the Moomins world, (needless to say The Moomins are an extended family of oddballs) so I won’t do that here. Instead, I’d like to try and answer the question of why The Moomins can feel so elusive.
Maybe it’s because there’s no one central ‘canonical’ Moomin property – a body around which adaptations, side-shows, and sundry licensing deals can orbit. You could argue that, at the core of the Moominverse, sits nine children’s novels written between 1945 and 1970 (though there were Moomin appearances before this) but there’s also the long running newspaper strip (from which this film lifts its plot), and several picture books too.
A constant through all these endeavours is Tove herself – the bohemian offspring of an artistic family, who spent young adulthood amidst the political and personal strife of WWII, and whose long-term romantic relationship would have caused scandal at a time where homosexuality in her native land was still outlawed.
Then there are adaptations: Polish fuzzy-felt, Russian stop-motion, German puppetry, three animes (!), not to mention the Swedish live-action show, an ongoing theatre production, and many other one-offs. Add endless merchandise (the main space wherein the characters have dwelled these past 25 years) and the Moomin property itself can make one feel a bit nomadic – searching about for solid ground, some panorama where one can sit back and calibrate how the whole franchise fits together.
This leads us to the spiritual crux of the Moomins – a yearning for peace and uncomplicated stability; expressed through the eccentric, beautiful but fractious nature of life in Moominvalley. In addition to the delicate line work, almost all Moomin stories are full of sweet little allegories like this, drawn from the pen of Tove the iconoclastic, who poured both personal struggle and success into all her writing.
So does Riviera achieve the poised eccentricity that the best adaptations of the Moominverse emit?
Broadly speaking – yes. The Moomins themselves certainly don’t feel like a relic in 2015 (while a 2D feature in the cinema sadly does). The story is gentle and mild mannered, and may be more interesting to older Moomin fans based on its heavy stitching together of plot details from other Moomin stories (to sum up quickly – The Moomins go on a boat adventure, eventually winding up in a posh hotel where they flirt with the idea of being high society-types.) Colour design really harmonizes the background with the characters, creating a breezy, lush environment that’s never distracting from the main action.
Animation – specifically the weight and feel of the characters – is consciously different from the most celebrated 2D animated adaptation before it (the 90s series), and it’s admirable that the filmmakers want to chart their own territory in the Moominscape. Basically it’s a sweet, nostalgic, kid-friendly yarn with some effective class satire for adults.
It is worth noting, however, that the film was originally made in Swedish and localized into other languages. As a result – unlike with, say, anime – in which we understand by default that the dialogue we’re hearing is not the original – it’s important to recognize that this is a dubbed film, and English localization has resulted in voice work that feels somewhat off and indistinct.
The big plus of Tove’s characters, while they’re tonally difficult to get right, is they are extremely malleable – allowing for multiple ‘takes’ on Moominvalley that don’t necessarily feel inorganic or unfaithful (example: this wonderfully daffy short). Even Tove herself spun different shades out of Moominvalley – accentuating the family’s absurd ambition towards the upper crust in the comic, while nudging her characters in the direction of sombre, melancholic transitions in the novels – but in Riviera, despite great strains made to match that particular Moomin comic voice, there’s a sense that the English voices don’t suit the mouths they’re coming out of, and that it may fare better in its original language with subtitles.
Moomins on the Riviera is strikingly different from the majority of this year’s children’s features, commendable for its reverence to Tove, but perhaps a little lost in the translation. Then again, everyone can have their own spin on the Moomins, and having a few more versions sent our way certainly wouldn’t get any complaints here.
Moomins on the Riviera is presently in UK cinemas. For more information visit moominsontheriviera.com