Little Amélie Review: A Vibrant Life

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain depicts life as a child sees it, with colorful, expressive animation and a grown-up story.

So many animated films are about children, but how many actually take the time to depict life as they see and experience it? Only My Neighbor Totoro (one of the great films, period) came to mind, until the story of Little Amélie started to reveal itself. Vallade and Han adapt Amélie Nothomb’s sort-of autobiographical novel “The Character of Rain”, along with co-screenwriters Aude Py and Eddine Noël, as they explore a young girl’s journey to self-actualization, discovering everything from basic concepts to complex emotions. 

As the film begins, Amélie (voiced by Loïse Charpentier) is a baby, tacitly observing the world around her, but finds herself unable to move, communicate, or express herself accurately. It’s not until she’s 2.5 years old, when her paternal grandmother (Cathy Cerdà) gives her a piece of white chocolate, that she has a kind of awakening and can finally speak – in full sentences, no less – and walk. At first, this feels like a kind of cheap way to make Amélie less of a passive character and become more active, but we eventually learn that in Japan, where the story is set in 1969, babies are considered to be related to gods until their third birthday, when they join the human race.

It’s here where the film begins to splinter, and the narrative feels stretched, even at just a 77 minute runtime. A story told from a child’s perspective, in theory, should be simple and streamlined, but Little Amélie begins to explore the idea of fractured identity within Amélie’s family. Her father (Marc Arnaud) and mother (Laetitia Coryn) are both Belgian-born; he’s a Belgian diplomat, on assignment in Tokyo, and the family’s caretaker Nishio (Victoria Grosbois) is a local, whose family was killed in World War II. Amélie and Nishio develop a warm and caring relationship, and its evolution leads to some of the film’s best scenes.

Amélie witnesses Nishio’s discrimination from Kashima (Yumi Fujimori), the family’s landlord, who resents her getting so close to foreigners. Vallade and Han depict these moments with genuine care and accuracy, but it almost feels like they belong in another film entirely. The story also repeats the beats of Amélie drowning twice, in almost identical ways, as if there wasn’t another way to push the story forward. But even when the story lags, the visuals remain consistently excellent, and sometimes cover for the narrative shortcomings. Consider the scene when Amélie’s parents gift her a few carp for her third birthday. Earlier in the film, Nishio introduces her to carp, which she considers ugly and the symbol of Amélie’s bullying brother André (Isaac Schoumsky). The animation is frenetic and lively, inventively showing André’s face superimposed over the fish.

Regardless of its shortcomings, Little Amélie deserves to not just be seen, but experienced in all of its vibrant splendor. Parents, like myself, can recognize their own children’s peculiarities in Amélie, and it easily fosters a longing to see the world through simpler, more pure eyes. Hayao Miyazaki may still be the master of depicting plucky but likeable child characters, but here is a film which aims for that lofty goal – while still using its own distinct voice – and does not miss.

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain will be released in select US theatres on October 31, 2025 and nationwide on November 7.