Film Review - Bigbug (2022)

21 years on from his internationally triumphant romcom Amélie, the archetypal purveyor of surrealist comedic fantasy Jean-Pierre Jeunet is back!

Filmed amidst the cataclysmic year of 2020, Bigbug arrives nearly a decade on from his last effort and marks as the sixth solo outing for Jeunet – a whopping three decades on from the co-collaborated post-apocalyptic black comedy Delicatessen and its science fantasy follow-up, The City of Lost Children.

Taking place in the not-too-distant year of 2045, Bigbug is set in a futuristic suburban world where the community is staffed by robotic helpers with extremely advanced artificial intelligence. When a rapidly expanding squadron of AI machines seek to imprison humans to embarrass them on a game show, Alice (Elsa Zylberstein) and a chock-a-block group of dysfunctional family , potential love interests and a noisy neighbour are locked inside her home by her now outdated Meca servants.

Deciding it’s best for the misfit collective of characters to be locked inside Alice’s home, the rebelling Meca servants assume the position of protecting their loyal masters in the pursuit of being accepted as more than helpers around the house through the quality of humour.

Like many, many great science fiction works, Bigbug isn’t covering any new ground by showcasing robots attempting to seek and wield humanity. On that front, Jeunet‘s film isn’t doing anything at all groundbreaking.

Where Bigbug shines at its brightest is through its storytelling as well as its instantly recognisable trademark Jeunet impressionistic cinematography and its whimsical and zany comedic delivery.

The film opens with a segment from the popular reality TV game show Homo Ridiculus, where Yonyx droids (François Levantal) subject their human prisoners into doing totally embarrassing activities such as being walked on leads, dressed up and forced to act like dogs. On first introduction, these short segments of Homo Ridiculus that are segued into Bigbug seem unthreatening and typical of Jeunet‘s eccentric, slapstick style of comedy. However with each ing bit, the activities become more and more menacing and more torturous for the humans involved, quickly villianizing the Yonyx androids into the film’s main antagonist.

Established as the matriarch in Bigbug, Alice and her developing relationship with Max (Stéphane De Groodt) is explored in a comedic fashion additionally throughout the entirety of the film. Max – a sleaze bag who is desperately trying to woo Alice into bed, fakes genuine interest of Alice’s obsession with disallowed retro, novelty items from the age of inferior technology and her ion for cursive handwriting. With each soft caress and whisper directly into the ear, the on-screen firework display of affection Bigbug will quickly cut back and forth to the coy chief robotic helper Monique (Claude Perron), who’s internal HUD appears on-screen to show the exact percentages of deceit, pretentiousness and male chauvinism Max uses to court Alice into a hot minute of lustful ion. Minute embellishments like this, though a little too direct with their exposition for its audience are still funny quips that make Bigbug into a hallmark Jeunet film. Similarly to when Amélie ponders how many people are reaching their sexual climax at the exact same time in the 2001 film, Bigbug too makes light of s-e-x by being sex positive and able to just laugh about it and enjoy the moment.

Because Bigbug takes place mostly in one claustrophobic location and has a packed cast, everyone involved plays an essential role to the story with their dizzying, chaotic subplots. The blossoming love story between Alice and Max isn’t at the forefront of Jeunet‘s film despite being set up as the two lead characters. Instead, their progressing story is a minor one among many others.

Alice’s teenage daughter, Nina (Marysole Fertard) and Max’s teenage son, Léo (Hélie Thonnat) find themselves on their own prosperous, educating and enlightening escapade having no choice but to encircle one another into each others lives whilst in the interminable lockdown. Too, rather awkwardly, Alice’s ex husband Victor (Youssef Hajdi) and the secretary he left her for, Jennifer (Claire Chust) are also part of the lockdown as they get caught in the crossfire having dropped off Nina on their way to celebrate their honeymoon on a remote paradise.

Not wanting to be stuck in the same location for very long, the humans do everything within their power to escape back into the outside world. Of course, in this futuristic world where everything is mostly controlled and shaped by technology, they find themselves horribly in trouble, outnumbered and outsmarted. Nestor – Alice’s disobedient smart home virtual assistant, is a satirical jab at the very real Alexa and Google Nest products we use in the current day for virtually almost everything. Jeunet is demonstrating a distinctly comical but bleak alternative (but highly probable) reality where AI rages war on humans.

Amidst the frenzied and imioned cabin fever of the humans, the faithful robots too have their respective story arc which is undoubtedly the bread and butter of Bigbug, often providing for the funniest, cumbrous moments of this offbeat sci-fi flick.

Having their endless tasks around the suburban home even during the shielding from the threatening Yonyx faction, Monique and her consortium of robotic helpers ponder the question of what it takes to be human. Collectively deciding that the best way of displaying and understanding human behaviour is through the ability to make jokes and evoke and provoke laughter, Monique, Einstein (André Dussollier) and co. ambitiously aspire to dazzle their captors through the art of bad, cringeworthy jokes. The hilarity of Bigbug of course isn’t through the winceworthy, unfunny jokes but rather the unsophisticated, awkward and uncouth delivery of those who lack the capacity to yield true human emotion and manner.

Stylistically, Bigbug has quintessential intricate use of camerawork and camera angles as all of Jeunet‘s films do. It is also very colourful and implements imagery of German and French-concentrated impressionism to create futurism that Jeunet has executed so well in the past. Bigbug is yet another oeuvre that legitimises him as an auteur.

The eventual and abundantly obvious lead-up to the chief Yonyx unit reaching Alice’s house to coerce the group into compete on Homo Ridiculus is painstakingly dragged out, often not adding much in to the narrative. It’s character developing that goes on for a little longer than necessary. By this point, the runtime has felt prolonged. The tedious chopping and changing between the varying subplots act as a slow burn to the larger narrative at hand, which is a shame for Jeunet as usually his films are clear, concise and don’t beat about the bush.

Still, the overall dystopian commentary at large that Jeunet and Bigbug have to offer are a signature slice of weird and offer escapism that only he can offer. No sci-fi film from the U-S-and-A would dare to be this bold, or odd. The third and final act of the Netflix-released film is worth sticking around for, even if it is motifs that have been covered a dozen times over. If you have been a fan of Jeunet‘s visionary prior solo work and the work of yesteryear he did with Marc Caro, you will be pleased to jump back into the creative world this absurd, oddball science fiction comedy