the joy and pain of connecting in (friendly) love

Rating: 10/10 (13 May 2015)

Mary and Max is like opening up a graphic novel, meant more for adults than children (not that it's explicit, just... adult), and finding something that justifies the reason for this medium to expand as it sometimes does. In other words, this is a film that takes animation, claymation in fact, and takes it to another level of possibility. There are a lot of funny things that happen in this story of two pen-pals - one, initially, a 7 year-old Australian girl, and the other a 44 year-old man in New York city - who first connect over a cartoon show and find they have some things very much in common. This is a story that is profound and moving for the depths to which it explores the fragility in human beings, how vulnerable some of us can get, and what being on the 'outside' really means in society, being on the margins as being a woman, or mentally ill, or "ugly" whatever that means, or unable to control oneself.
Something about this style of animation that Adam Eliot implements is fascinating to see unfold. Only occasionally do we see characters talking, with their mouths moving. Perhaps this was a challenge that the filmmaker gave himself and, especially, to see to what lengths he could take voice-over narration (usually a big no-no if you take a screen writing class, to which I wonder if Mary and Max would be thrown out as "improper"). The film is mostly presented as the series of letters that Mary and Max are writing each other over the years - she starts off as a little girl with a dysfunctional family (well, more than others, though abusive more in the sense of neglect) and a sense of wonder about the world around her, and questions of things like being bullied and, frankly, what sex is; he is diagnosed later with Aspergers, but we can tell early on that something is 'off' about this single, lonely, dejected Jewish man who has an imaginary friend who for a while now sits in the corner reading self-help books.
Their relationship has its ups and its downs - a stint in a mental institution brings a time gap (Max sometimes, or, no, almost all of the time) freaks out and gets anxiety attacks at the sorts of questions that an adult has to answer truthfully to someone like a little girl - and yet the narration, both from a third-person perspective and then the letters (voiced brilliantly by Hoffman and Collette) really is exceptional work. We see everything that is being described on screen, so it's not un-cinematic, and at the same time the words being spoken provide a nice counter-point at times to what we're seeing, how Max may see things in his 'way' and Mary with her attention to her looks or that boy across the street who stutters and is Greek and has an interesting smell about him. It's the sort of thing that were this a graphic novel no one would question the structure. But as presented, it's really incredible how it all holds and unfolds with great pacing and attention to character and detail.
Much of this relies on both the humor in the writing, the voice work, and the exaggerated style in the animations. Mary's mother, for example, is one such a piece of work, a drunk who is kind of a harridan but fascinating to watch. Or that one older woman who sometimes cooks for Max (despite the hair, which he picks out). Some of Eliot and company's work here is nightmarish, garish, bringing out the fears and horrors of the characters to the forefront. And yet there was rarely a moment I wasn't completely, emotionally invested with these two people. So what if they're animated? When Mary is teased and goes through her hardships, it's difficult to watch (I almost felt tears welling up myself, mostly in the childhood scenes). This isn't simple manipulation - it's carefully, even spiritually, bringing us along into these character's level of awareness and how they feel things.
I wondered at times if this would work as well if it was live-action, which it could have been. I think the animation adds to this story and shapes Mary and Max into the unique experience it is, though one I wish would be done more in this medium. There are several visual quirks and possibilities given that it's stop-motion animation - water is depicted really Styrofoam bubbles - but, ultimately, it comes down to the truth in the characters, and yet... no, there is an extra element that it being this way brings, I'm sure of it.
Perhaps a certain innocence is evoked too? The fact that animated characters come together due to an animated cartoon in their world - and their hand-made and, later, collectible figurines? There's a lot to Mary and Max I hope to explore in further viewings - how much Judaism is satirized here to great effect, even as it's still a serious matter when a character is mocked for being Jewish, for example, or that neighbor of Mary's who can't get out of his house - and it's such a rich, harrowing experience that I can't recommend it enough.