Jumbo

First time writer-director Zoé Wittock takes an absurd idea and imbues it with such heart, soul, and beauty that you'll automatically look past the inherent ridiculousness. Instead, you'll simply absorb its glowing sense of wonder.

It’s a short-film premise at a feature-film length, but few films take as many chances or go for broke as much as Jumbo. Wittock is an exciting new talent to watch, and Merlant spins something potentially laughable into a rollercoaster — or at least, waltzer — ride of emotions.

This is a slight film, one that peaks early and spends the rest of its runtime shuffling its narrative cards, re-combining the same elements in different ways. But Jumbo still stands out, thanks to a concept and aesthetic much stronger than its story.

The kooky premise of Jumbo – a young woman falling madly in love with a fairground ride – might invite bafflement but Zoé Wittock’s idiosyncratic comedy-drama is an entertaining blend of sensory overload and sincere empathy.

Eventually, Jumbo clatters to a stop with a tinny cheer for acceptance, a sugar rush of Belgian new wave music, and the sense that the audience has been taken for a bit of a ride.

As an embodiment of existential anxiety, it’s often effective, but other than stunning composition work and a few blips of vibrant harmony, it’s largely empty as a romance.

While I can understand and accept poor writing, it is deeply offensive to me that Wittock brushed under the rug the extensive abuse that Jeanne faces from Margarette and Marc. It normalizes non-consensual sexual behavior and parental abuse, both prevalent and very traumatic experiences. Therefore, despite all the good present in Jumbo, it would be immoral of me to recommend it.