Microbe and Gasoline | Review #1

Whimsy with Measure: Gondry’s Reflection on Youth and Imagination

There are certain expectations that come with a Gondry film; his trademarks have helped to define such an idiosyncratic career and vision. Casting the impossibilities to the wind and expectations of filmmaking, Michel Gondry has tackled films that have defied their own existence. And so with Microbe and Gasoline, which is not so much an autobiography but more so of a realization of an adolescent yearning, this filmmaker injects his sensitivities to a coming of age narrative that is revisited so often that its familiarity is both its strength and weakness. Serving as a reminder to Gondry’s visual strengths and sense of whimsy, Microbe and Gasoline positions itself above the usual narrative as a cheerful ode to the youthful imagination and escapism.

Known by his peers as Microbe for his flimsy stature, Daniel (Ange Dargent) is a social outcast, finding comfort in his illustrations and portraiture. New transfer student Théo (Théophile Baquet), quickly earns the nickname Gasoline, stinking of grease from his penchant of taking apart and building motors. The two soon latch onto one another, bonding over the latter’s altered bicycle to which he attaches a sound effects machine. Mutual interests and taunting from peers leads them to build a friendship and also a house-on-wheels which serves as their literal vehicle to escape their humdrum lives. Releasing them from worldly commitments, the two embark on an adventure across the French countrysides, relishing in their freedoms and enthusiasm for the great beyond.

Utilizing Théo’s knowledge of mechanics and Daniel’s enthusiasm, the two build a makeshift house on wheels affixed with shingles and its own window box potted with flowers. And other than some obligatory appearances from parents including Marie-Thérèse (rather stiff Audrey Tautou), the boys are left to their own devices, bringing along cans of food and toilet paper (and shovel) as their supplies. Even with a cameo of an iPhone–which is soon discarded–the film retains a sense of timelessness. Without answering the boorish questions of logic and rationale, the two are able to conceive the dream of many youths of yesteryear. And much like the fickle years of adolescence, the journey is not without its times of friction and setbacks, which helps to prevent the film from devolving into overly sentimental.

It’s clear that Gondry is in no rush, though some scenes felt misplaced, specifically the gang resurfacing–perhaps more so due to translation. But the overall sentiment is felt even when reality sets back in and the connection that Gondry has to the material is quite evident (many parts were inspired by his own relationship with a friend he has since lost touch). It’s far from his heavier gestures of showmanship but the film’s nostalgia and humility is refreshing all the same. Rooted in the possibility of the impossible and executed with the modesty of what one can do with a cardboard box and some imagination, Microbe and Gasoline holds a certain factor of relatability which enshrouds the film in an endearing light.

★★★½/☆☆☆☆☆