Animated features in this country seem to be coasting on a formula of cutesy characters, digital technology, too-hip dialogue, celebrity voices, and tuneless pop songs. And then there's anime. Talk about formulaic. Both genres at the top of their games can be mildly amusing, but they're nothing like the French-imported THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE.  Equal parts comedy, melancholia, musical, and irreverence, this is everything American animation is not. 

Which means it ain't pretty. No cutey-pie Nemo's. No squeaky-clean Lion Kings. No actor-of-the-week voices. No atrocious Elton John soundtrack. No. Instead, we have a droopy-eyed, orphaned hero, Champion-a sad little boy with a nose that would make Pinocchio sweat, who morphs into a, well, champion cyclist. Accompanying Champion is his nightmare-plagued and horribly obese dog, Bruno. Cracking the training whip and blowing a mean whistle is my favorite character, the unflappable, bifocal-switching, and literally lead-footed Grandma. Cycle technician, percussion expert, and guerrilla fighter, Grandma can do it all. And, of course, there are the Triplets themselves-a washed-up 1920's singing trio with a strange fetish for household appliances. They live in a dilapidated apartment complex and are pretty disgusting old broads with a fondness for frogs.

And if you think the principals are disgusting, wait 'til you see everyone else! Massively obese slobby folks wander the streets. With the inflated interpretation of the Statue of Liberty, Chomet must be trying to tell us something about our obesity problem here in the States. How best to describe TRIPLETS' visual style? Charmingly ugly.

I went into this film without knowing anything about it, so what I thought was going to be an animated sports movie turns into an action adventure as Champion is "recruited" by the French mafia while competing in the Tour de France. Who will rescue him? Grandma, of course, aided by the Triplets but not before a few jam sessions and some serious frog chomping.

Speaking of music, this soundtrack really snaps, crackles, and pops with 1920's jazz, a nod to Edith Piaf, Mozart, a tribute to Django Reinhardt, and Mouf-Mouf vacuum cleaners. 

There are a couple of other cool things I love about this film. One is that even though it's in French, there is almost no dialogue, and there are no subtitles. It's refreshing in a PINK PANTHER, creepy, cool jazzy way. This forces emphasis on the visuals and comedic timing. The second thing worth mentioning is that without the dialogue, we're also not missing the wisecracking infecting many of today's animated features. Sure, TRIPLETS can be crude and ribald, but the absence of dialogue also underscores the quieter, sad and lonely moments, too. It's nice to not feel manipulated for once in an animated movie. No big swell of cheesy pop music screaming at us, "Feel sad here!" This is a film that is subtle in ways I'll never expect an American animated feature to be.

Writer and director Sylvain Chomet has said that his influences are silent stars like Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton as well as Rowan Atkinson. In the TRIPLETS presskit he says, "[My style] is based on mime and character-acting. I'm more influenced by live camerawork than by animation. Timing is crucial, too." Sigh. If only more animated productions would pay attention to such details. For all of today's technological high-gloss bells and whistles and big names, THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE proves there's no substitute for heart and imagination.and good taste in music.