Moomins on the Riviera

The sweet-natured Moomins take on high society in this new adventure from the classic Tove Jansson characters.

, Picard and Hemilä’s film is a delightful – albeit slight – contemporary romp, with a gorgeous score from a host of French and Finish composers and a witty script that veers between dark childish humour and sincere social commentary of capitalist culture. As a Moomin rookie I can’t speak to whether this incarnation of the much loved Finnish export has maintained Jansson’s original voice. It is, however, another testament to the timelessness and artistry of hand drawn animation and the need to keep it alive.

Showing as part of Glasgow Film Festival 2015

Cayley James

22 February 20153 July 2016

@ Odeon Glasgow Quay, Sat 21 Feb & Cineworld Parkhead, Sun 22 Feb 2015 On UK release from Fri 22 May 2015 Xavier Picard & Hanna Hemilä / France and Finland / 2014 / 80 mins [Rating:3/5] The audience that came out on a dreich Saturday afternoon to bask in the warm glow of Xavier Picard and Hanna Hemilä's Moomins on the Riviera was a decidedly mature one; with an average audience age of 30, there was only a smattering of the film’s target demographic. Yet from the whimsical credits sequence that follows Snufkin through creator Tove Jansson’s imagined woodland paradise it is clear: this sumptuously drawn film is one for the legions of animation fans all round the world. The tale begins in Moominvalley, where the erstwhile Moomin saves Little My and Mymbal from the wreckage of pirate ship where they had been held captive. This is quickly forgotten as the Moomins take the two girls into their care and set off on a voyage in a sea gale (leaving Mymbal and Snufkin safe in the valley), winding up on the shores of the French Riviera. Mistaken for the well-off de Moomins, they take up residency in a swish hotel. Too sweet to admit their humble origins, the resort set take them for charming eccentrics. Yet while Moominpapa and Snorkmaiden swan about the promenade hobnobbing it with stars and swilling champagne, Moominmama and Moomin feel decidedly out of place. Little My spends most of the film gnawing on things and indulging in schadefreude. Eventually they pack up their bags and return to the serenity of their valley home having learned a lesson or two about how unsatisfying a superficial, shallow, consumerist-driven life can be. At a brisk 80 minutes