Jumbo

When Jumbo is inevitably brought up in conversation, it is likely to receive a few awkward laughs, a few scrunched noses, and perhaps even a few sounds of mistaken disgust. The film follows Jeanne (Merlant) as she spends her summer working at a theme park where she falls in love with its newest attraction. It would be easy to – consciously or unconsciously – place a seedy lens upon this girl, portraying her as some kind of sexual aberration. But first-time feature director Zoé Wittock refuses this, opting instead for a tender look at love, desire and understanding.

It’s Wittock’s attention to Jeanne’s love for the eponymous carnival ride, and Jumbo’s subsequent response, that makes the film so deeply sensory and palpable. Multi-coloured lights across faces, the rush of wind upon a theme park ride – it’s there to be felt and to be felt fully, by audiences as much as Jeanne herself. But Jumbo isn’t overly fantastical either: Jeanne’s touching yet fraught relationship with her mother, Margarette (Bercot), feels truly authentic, although perhaps overly predictable. But, ultimately, the complexities of the situation are not forgotten and Margarette’s character is never sacrificed for narrative ease.

And yet, for a film so wrapped up in feeling, Jumbo certainly has high stakes driving its narrative. It raises big questions about our relationships with objects, all while strapping us in for a fun ride. By the end, Jumbo has successfully pulled at some cliched romantic heartstrings, a feat that only adds to the film's peculiar joy.