In the grand scheme of things, animation is one of the greatest forms of expression that mankind has created. There are times where the more exaggerated an image becomes, the more that it reveals something integral to the human condition. I think of films like Paprika (2006) that are so against the grain that you can feel your brain shift, maybe forming a trapezoid shape as you discover that the world isn’t what it once was. How is it possible for something this hallucinatory to exist, to produce such a lasting impression? It’s so compelling what art can do, and I love how diverse the output can sometimes be. If nothing else, it says as much about the form as it does ourselves to understand just what these moving shapes mean to us.
Which is a long way of saying that I, with all my heart, love A Town Called Panic (2009). This French animated film made up of plastic toys shouldn’t work as well as it does, serving at best as a slightly prestigious version of Robot Chicken. I’m proud to say that for a story that centers around such illustriously named characters like Cowboy, Indian, Horse, and Policeman that it’s a genuine masterpiece that has been preserved by the fine folks at The Criterion Collection. Yes, this story that amounts to gibberish for a plot is a masterpiece on par with your Tarkovsky’s and Kurosawa’s. Future generations will gawk at this wonderment and understand the potential to which art can extend. It may be hard to believe, but that’s mostly because you have yet to witness the magic that is A Town Called Panic.
Trust me, I was that way for many years. Every time I would hunt down the list of great animated world cinema, A Town Called Panic was on there next to Spirited Away (2001), and Waltz With Bashir (2009). It was always fun to read about it, and yet never enough for me to sit down and watch it. When The Criterion Channel released their Arthouse Animation, I saw it listed among its crazy list of titles (it’s where I saw Mary and Max (2009)). So far it's been a treasure trove of discovery and, more importantly, gave me the chance to finally right some wrongs that I’ve had for a few years. With zero expectation and a free evening, I pressed ‘Play’ and experienced the greatest form of pleasure imaginable.
I think there’s a certain misconception that I bring to cinema sometimes. There is a part of me that can’t stand outright nonsense. There needs to be a greater purpose to the joke besides something random happening. I think of recent works like Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar (2021) which was so devoid of recognizable characters that it actively made me disinterested in the conflict. I’ve grown away from comedy that’s merely eccentric, needing you to not think about some bigger context. One or two jokes, sure… I get it. As a full length feature, it begins to wear thin if I don’t care about the characters at all. Love or hate, I need some substance there.
A Town Called Panic is pure nonsense, and yet it’s the best kind of random behavior. There is very little depth to all of these characters, and yet it gets away with having Horse play the piano and have it be the funniest thing in the world. It can toss farm animals over an ever-expanding pile of bricks and it all makes sense within its own world. It’s so manic, moving so quickly that the jokes are almost percussion dictated by a metronome. The chaos is endless. It’s a feature version of the gag where a dam keeps springing leaks and the characters must find ways to plug the holes. As more water breaks through, the intensity rises, the uncertainty draws the viewer in. How will the characters make it to the closing credits? Will there even be a third act or just a battlefield of noble heroes who failed their mission?
I think to appreciate the film, one has to accept the world building from frame one. There is lunacy in the tone, but it’s mostly from disorientation. If viewers have seen anything like this, it’s probably an animated short on YouTube with not enough resources to avoid making it look herky-jerky. There is a cheapness that makes one think that this story that opens with Mailman doing his daily rounds will just be another generic farce, incapable of finding some grander achievement. It won’t have the budget to do anything too crazy… right?
That is the brilliance of the piece. It’s important to start small, in a town that does its best to keep its problems in control. For the most part, one would assume it’s petty theft and vandalism, but what follows is far from that. As the characters are slowly introduced, the world becomes more and more open to the abstract. It’s already strange that toys are walking around in this way, even looking stilted by stop motion standards. However, that’s before you realize that every character is essentially a fresh out of the package figure. Cowboy dresses like a cowboy. Indian has a headdress. Horse is a horse (of course, of course). Everyone fits their vanilla roles, and it all adds this subliminal order to the world even if deep down the audience still is confused why everything looks the way it does.
It becomes more curious as it’s revealed that characters are preparing to celebrate Horse’s birthday. Mind you, he is in some ways sentient, capable of interacting with Cowboy and Indian in very conventional ways. He can play piano and slow dances with his wife at a party. This macabre landscape seems goofy in the way that BoJack Horseman would take to extremes, finding human and nature coexisting in ways that aren’t questioned but are definitely weird. It doesn’t break the logic, but you just have to wonder if there’s greater intent to this strange collection of characters.
Without going too much further into the plot, things begin to unravel. Someone wants to order 50 bricks and due to someone carelessly placing a drink on the keyboard, the zeroes pile up until they’re ordering 50 million. With an excess strewn across the fields, one has to wonder how they’ll take care of this madness. Meanwhile, there are characters who are arrested, taken to worlds outside of Panic. It’s a rescue mission, an espionage thriller, and eventually a journey into a fantasy land. There is an awe to the whole thing because you generally wonder not only what’s going on, but where things are going. The realm of logic is continually broken, replaced with a new set of rules punctuated by some great eccentric humor that only helps to sidetrack any dead space.
I think that what gives the film some leniency is the fact that it’s so uniquely animated. A Town Called Panic doesn’t look the least bit real and in some ways allows for a suspension of disbelief. We are capable of seeing things exaggerated in such strange ways because it doesn’t exist in our world. Even then, what makes everything click better is the fact that these look like toys you’d give to an infant, someone who isn’t all that worked up about narrative cohesion. In their mind, you can throw Horse and Cowboy off the side of the bed and it would be a thrilling conclusion to watch them slide across the floor, barely held together. What child doesn’t want chaos, some aggression pent up from an overactive imagination?
While there are moments that are more explicit (in language), it all comes with this innocent, carefree attitude that is infectious. Who would’ve thought of half of this? Who would’ve thought to make such a complicated story around celebrating one’s birthday? This plays out so many fantasies that don’t make sense the longer you think about it. You just have to accept it, allowing the jokes to consume you and allow for the agile slapstick to catch you off-guard. This isn’t to say that the humor is entirely juvenile or even all that gross, but it does have this bright-eyed sense that even during the worst moments that things will work out. There is peril, but it’s more of the broad comedy type. You’re more likely to laugh as kid logic overtakes tragedy and catapults us to transcendent confusion.
I’m sure there’s some insane scholar out there who can pinpoint what the greater message of this story is. Maybe there is some commentary that I’ve overlooked. If you know that person and can convince me, more power to you. However, I think this is one of those films that more exists as a miracle; a string of jokes that manage to work because of how convinced it is of its own universe. Everyone has their role in the film and interacts as a community, and it’s only when they work together that things avoid conflict. Of course, by the end everything is a different kind of stable. It may be a bit crazier than where things started, but we’re all still having a great time.
As I mentioned when I watched it, this feels like it exists solely for entertainment. Its escapism at its finest without concern for the bigger conflicts of the world. This post-modernist read of animation is refreshing, existing more for the laugh and the faux-inspirational idea that if you work hard enough, you will overcome your problems. Of course, it could always be worse. You could live in Panic where the water is constantly spewing from the dam. Unless everyone works together, things will go south very quick. It’s the endearing subtext, the reason that the madness never feels off-putting. For as much that goes wrong, it’s ultimately comedy with upbeat intention.
Considering that this is yet another masterpiece to debut in the year 2009 (one of the best years for movie animation if you ask me), I have to admire how it manages to stand out among its peers. Even among the stop motion classics Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009), Mary and Max, and Coraline (2009), it manages to find its own lane and drives so recklessly through it that you’re amazed it didn’t crash. I love A Town Called Panic for its unique brand of energy, the way that it juggles everything so precisely that you’re amazed that it never loses its appeal. There is so much to question in every frame, and it only makes the experience more fascinating. If you want to watch it, I ask that you go in blind. Being caught off guard is part of the ride, and hopefully you’ll enjoy that surprise as much as I did.
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