06 January 2005

3 is the magic number

We arrived back in town a couple of nights ago from an extended holiday in Taranaki. In that kind of post-vacation daze we sought out entertainment, and on the vague recommendation of Sam Hunt's column in the Dominion-Post sifted along to the Paramount to see the Triplets of Bellvue.

To be honest we weren't expecting a whole bunch - sure it had been nominated for an award or two, and it was cool that it had a Tour de France reference point, but beyond that we were really only attracted to the Tuesday night cheaper ticket prices. But shock horror, we stumbled across a stunner.

Years ago I was a paramount refugee - seeking out any vaguely offbeat film on offer, and camping out for days on end around the incredible and incredibly strange film festivals. I've seen numerous animated masterpieces - mostly from the pre-CG era, and have always been entranced by the incredible potency achieved in the drawn world, just by tweaking the real a little bit.

The triplets is no exception. From the opening moments through to the final credits (where people were left sitting to the end in hope of more) the film captured the imagination, bound it with an entire roll of duct tape, and poked needles into it for good measure. I could go on about plot and the likes, but that's all available elsewhere.

But it was lovely. Just lovely.

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