You are my best friend. You are my only friend.

Rating: 9/10 (12 July 2015)

Mary and Max never lets the viewer settle into a preconceived idea of how the story and characters will act based on the rotund and plump clay figurines who waddle about in the gorgeous and painstakingly detailed world of Adam Elliot's. It's not as smooth as a bigger budgeted animation piece like Wallace & Gromit is but the clay- mation is nevertheless enchanting. The depiction of two worlds apart in New York City and Lamington Drive, Australia consists of hundreds of miniature props and set pieces and even a fully functional tiny typewriter in which Max composes his letters to. The character and set design is whimsical and the film's voice-over, which dictates the majority of the plot points and exposition, is punctuated with absurdities, dark humour and bits of everyday questioning. At surface level, the premise of a middle aged, obese and lonely atheist with Aspergers syndrome being penpals with an equally lonely and bullied eight year girl is simple and easily dissected. The film, unlike many animations, is not bursting with colours or rainbows, instead washed in black and white or a murky brown, with the odd bit of red in the tongues or pom-poms or hair-clips. So that it itself hints at the darker nature of the film.
Part of the charm and authenticity of the premise comes from the excellent voice acting from Max and Young Mary, by Philip Seymour Hoffman and Bethany Whitmore respectively. Hoffman's raspy, matter-of-fact voice over is carefully punctuated by pauses in his speech that indicate a simple, if not, curious mind. It's simultaneously a man who feels like time is running out in his life yet has all the time in the world for his only friend in the world. This makes him a perfect correspondence for Mary, where Whitmore's voice feels like a genuine child's not riddled with clichés and over-age understanding. She stumbles on the spelling of certain words and adds grammatical mannerisms of her own to the characterisation of her innocence and curiosity. Much like Max, she also experiences loneliness, and it is through this common emotion they find their connection.
The soundtrack lends itself to both humour and drama throughout the film. Insignificant deaths like a mime being crushed by a air-conditioning unit or a careless father drowned at sea might be morbid in other films but become an eventuality in Mary and Max. The dark humour is created by the reactions of the characters, not by dialogue, but by clever sound design and facial animation which adds an air of absurdity to the scene. See the irony in the cuts between a whooshing falling air-conditioner unit and the soundless mime bracing for impact, or the outrageous cry of Max upon seeing cigarette butt littering, or the matter-of-fact way in which he admits guilt after farting in a public elevator.
Penguin Cafe Orchestra's Perpetuum Mobile is the perfect theme for the film, introducing us to the setting as well as chiming in here and there again to remind us of a moment of character growth or determined action. It's a beautiful composition which gives a sense of time passing, and of the juxtaposition between sad and happy moments. Another strong and emotionally resonant moment uses musical cues to great effect, being Mary's attempted suicide. It's one of the few instances in the film where the camera actually moves away from it's rather pedestrian positioning and where digital effects are used to portray the last moments of Mary's life and the surreal experience of the old cliché where your life flashes before your eyes. Doras Day's old classic Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be) adds emotional depth and subtext to the moment, linking back to Mary's negligent upbringing and conjuring ideas of adulthood failure and lost friendship.
Mary and Max's friendship is never face to face but shines throughout the brilliant screenplay which creates a connection through the bizarre, witty and oddities that they share. It's two remarkably curious perspectives of life and loneliness which bring them together. It's heartfelt and funny in it's dark humour (When I was young, I invented an invisible friend called Mr Ravioli. My psychiatrist says I don't need him anymore, so he just sits in the corner and reads); there's as much emotional resonance as there is comic relief. It treats it's darker topics of mental illness and suicide with maturity that often goes amiss in animation features. One might wonder how rapidly paced a friendship this might be had the film be set in more modern times with the accessibility of instant messaging and emails. Mary and Max however delivers a delightful little tale that's more than evenly paced.