“Marcel the Shell with Shoes On” is one of this year’s best films

In which a stop-motion mollusk gives me a new perspective

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On is a tiny miracle of a movie. 

I missed Dean Fleischer-Camp’s film when it was in theaters earlier this summer, and just caught up this weekend on VOD. The film is a feature-length adaptation of a series of YouTube shorts Fleischer-Camp made a decade back, centered on an optimistic and loquacious talking mollusk voiced by Jenny Slate. 

Probably the most accurate way to describe Marcel the Shell is as a mockumentary, but I think that sells it short. The subgenre is synonymous with snarky, uproarious comedies. And while Marcel is often very wry and funny, it’s also contemplative and philosophical. It’s a gentle, imaginative and sometimes surprisingly moving gem, clean enough to earn it a PG rating and deep enough to leave me mulling its questions after it was over. It’s one of the year’s best films. 

Marcel (Slate) lives with his grandmother Connie (Isabella Rossellini) in a house used as an AirBnB. A couple previously owned the house, but left after a fight and took their shells with them, leaving with Marcel and Connie’s family and friends. The film is ostensibly filmed by Dean (the director playing a fictionalized version of himself), who makes friends with Marcel and asks him to tell his story. Dean uploads Marcel’s videos to YouTube, setting off a global social media frenzy and opening the possibility that he might one day reconnect with his family. 

Brought to life with charming stop-motion animation and voiced with precocious energy by Slate, Marcel is one of this year’s best cinematic characters, full of big ideas, bigger questions and deep insight. Placing the camera at Marcel’s level, Fleischer-Camp invites viewers to look at the world from a new perspective, and some of the movie’s biggest laughs come from the ways Marcel finds to navigate his environment and make use of everyday items we might take for granted, from a tennis ball to honey. His tender relationship with his grandmother is responsible for some of the film’s most moving moments, but it’s the friendship he strikes with Dean that composes the film’s emotional core. 

Dean has come to the AirBnB after separating from his wife, and he initially sees Marcel as just a subject to be photographed and questioned. Hiding behind his camera, he often refuses to pitch in and help Marcel, tossing out the excuse that he can’t interfere with his own documentary. But over the course of the film, Dean turns from interrogator to friend, assisting Marcel in his attempt to locate his family and opening up about his own insecurities and frustrations. 

Marcel the Shell is about relationship, community and our search for a place where we fit. Marcel is friends with Dean, but misses the friends and family who once surrounded him, taken away as the result of a shattered relationship. Marcel knows he has his grandmother, but he also dances around the reality that she won’t be around forever; where does he go when she’s not there? Is it worth risking everything to find that? Marcel’s a very funny character, and Fleischer-Camp knows when to toss in a pithy quote, but its earnestness makes it special. 

The film makes some insightful observations about our overly connected life and the illusion of community we often create on social media. When Marcel’s videos blow up, people trek to the house to get their pictures in front of it, hoping for a glimpse of Marcel. They’re entertained by his videos and excited to be part of a trend, but they don’t seem overly concerned about his desire to reconnect with his community. When Marcel observes all of this and remarks “it’s more of an audience, not really a community,” I thought about the ways we pursue social media trends and faux connection without much of a desire to really connect, get involved or change things. Marcel has the good sense to ask Dean to take down the videos so that the social media intrusion doesn’t harm the relationships he has in front of him; how willing am I to do the same? And yet, that media also does come through in the end, providing a way for Marcel to reconnect with his family, suggesting that perhaps it’s not the tools that are good or bad, but our willingness to care and act in support of others.

And yet, I fear I’m making this sound like some sort of academic, overly artsy exercise. And Marcel the Shell is not that. It’s very funny and sweet, and although it moved at a slower pace than much of the entertainment my kids watch, they were both invested. Fleischer-Camp isn’t afraid of letting the film be still or even sad in places — its consideration of losing a loved one is effective and touching — and there are moments where the movie simply sits and watches the wind blow through the trees, or contemplates the wonders hidden in our own backyard with simple beauty and curiosity. 

In an age over-stuffed IP-filled films (see below) and loud, crass content that seeks to distract rather than engage (again, see below), I’m always overjoyed when a film like Marcel the Shell with Shoes On exists, and I encourage everyone to check it out.

Pinocchio has no strings, no soul

Before we get to the end, here’s a link to a review I did for CinemaNerdz of Robert Zemeckis’ Pinocchio. I’ll just say that as imaginative as Marcel the Shell with Shoes On is, Pinocchio is the exact opposite. It’s possibly the nadir of Disney’s recent run of “live-action” (use that term very loosely) remakes of its animated classics, a dull, ugly and lifeless take on the story that exists only to pad out the Mouse House’s streaming service.