Adam Elliot’s Memoir of a Snail is a tender, quirky, and deeply moving addition to his singular body of work—a stop-motion feature film that once again proves his excellent ability to blend absurdity, melancholy, and warmth into stories that stay with you long after the credits roll.
At the film’s heart is Grace Pudel, voiced with aching authenticity by Sarah Snook, a lonely woman who recounts the events of her life to her humble garden snail, Sylvia. This premise both charmingly odd and gently profound. Grace’s reflections—her broken childhood, her bond with her estranged brother Gilbert (a most moving performance from Kodi Smit-McPhee), and her fixation with collecting snails—unfold like a series of perfectly imperfect memories. As we enter Grace’s world with all its eccentricities and hardships, we begin to see her as a character who is heartbreakingly real and deeply relatable.
Memoir of a Snail is filled with Elliot’s vast attention to detail. Over 7,000 handmade objects fill this universe, each a testament to the tireless dedication of a team of artists who spent countless hours breathing life into the filmmaker’s vision. There is no use of CGI in this film; it is all beautifully texture and tactile, frame by frame. Elliot’s asymmetrical sets can be described as flawed yet lovingly imperfect – they serve as a mirror to the psyches of film’s characters. Grace’s story is full of emotional cracks, and the textured animation reflects her humanity in every small, deliberate detail.
Elliot’s writing, as in his previous films, achieves a balance of tragedy and humour. His characters might be seen by others as odd or as outsiders, yet they evoke such empathy that you feel a connection to them in your own way. Grace’s life has been filled with hard times and some sad experiences; a paraplegic, alcoholic father, foster homes, and loneliness. Yet, she perseveres. In the film, Elliot adds moments of unexpected laughter and joy, with appreciation for life’s strange beauty in order to balance some of the darker parts.
I would be remiss not to mention the voice performances which, in my opinion, elevate the film. Snook’s Grace clearly evokes someone who has had a plain life filled with both humility and grace, while Jacki Weaver as the eccentric Pinky adds a bit of wild fun to the mix. Kodi Smit-McPhee gives us Gilbert who is filled with melancholy that feels both fragile and timeless, and Eric Bana, Dominique Pinon, and the rest of the supporting cast bring charm and warmth to their roles.
In this film, Elliot also draws from his own life and family. Reflections on his own mother’s hoarding and his curiosity about our emotional connections to objects add extra layers to Grace’s journey. Grace’s hoarding tendencies, her attachment to snails and the objects she collects, reflect something universal – the desire to hold onto fragments of meaning in a world that often feels overwhelming.
With Memoir of a Snail, Adam Elliot reminds us why he is one of animation’s unique voices. The film’s absurd humour, melancholy, and beautiful hand-crafted artistry create a humbling human experience. It is a story about connection; a connection to family, to memories, and to the small, often fragile things that give our lives meaning.
Memoir of a Snail is a reminder that in life’s chaos, there is always room for beauty, and most importantly always room for hope.
Images courtesy of Mongrel Media.