Film Review: Little Amélie

Images Curtesy of Vue International

Nominated for best animated film/feature at both the 2026 Oscars and BAFTAs, Little Amélie, is a story of love, loss, and – somewhat surprisingly – a manifesto for white chocolate.

Inspired by the memoir ‘The Character of The Rain’ by Amélie Nothomb, ‘Little Amélie’ is a French-language animated film about a family’s move from Belgium to Japan in the late 1960’s, and the cultural divides that come within this.

The story focuses on the main character, Amélie, the baby of the family, who, after tasting some fine Belgian white chocolate, escapes her bubble of reserved composure and becomes infatuated with curiosity for the world around her – as well as the family housekeeper Nishio-san.

Set on the edge of an idyllic Japanese suburb, the family live on a property owned by a stern landlady who struggles with the arrival of a foreign family in post-war Japan. However, not all characters share this animosity.

Amélie and Nishio-san create a close bond, as the film uses this relationship and early life curiosity to explore the Japanese cultural divide and meanings, compassion, as well as life and death from a philosophical lens.  

Visually, the film is a piece of fine art. Every shot of its 78-minute run-time is beautifully digitally animated and painted with bright colour and a real texture, that gives it an organic and bold feel.

Yet this choice not only looks great – it aids storytelling, with its smart imagery and intelligent cinematography, communicating key ideas of the film that it otherwise would not have been capable of.  

This is particularly important as it’s a film that positions its focus on experiences and events that Amélie is involved in, rather than being based around a fixed plot and narrative line, with this imagery a reliable avenue to communicate this.

The somewhat simplistic atmosphere that the film creates leads to a meditative feel, inviting the audience to sit with its themes and reflect, rather than overload on plot devices – I reckon my psychologist would rate it.  

The film also uses narration, which thankfully manages to stick the landing, not overstepping, but acting as an appropriate tool to convey the feelings and key points of the film from Amélie’s perspective.

We are given a wholesome look into the mind of Amélie and see life the way she sees it. It’s not a vacuum cleaner, no… It’s a “strange long-necked creature”, of course. A fascination I myself am familiar with, having a cousin who himself was once obsessed with browsing the ‘Hoooover’ aisle as a child (let’s hope he doesn’t read this).

The film is strongest in its emotional poignancy and story in the last 20 minutes, where subtle tensions and feelings within the household and estate finally come to a head in a heartfelt and philosophically difficult climax.

However, the film isn’t without its flaws, with one particularly strong slip-up coming at one of the film’s most crucial scenes. During the latter stages of the film, a conversation is had between two Japanese speakers – not in Japanese – but in French, meaning it is overheard and understood by a French-speaking character. This, while illogical on its own, is even more bizarre as the conversation is based upon a resentment for Europeans and their culture, following the events of WW2, making it very bizarre to have it spoken in this language.

This is a shame, as the cultural exploration that the film takes its viewer on is by far one of its strongest points, and lifts it from being good to something more noteworthy.

Overall, it’s sweet, wholesome, and a pretty philosophical film in all honesty, that is worth checking out ahead of this year’s Oscars. Little Amélie releases this Friday, the 13^th into UK cinemas.

Verdict:

Early Access Screener provided by Vue International