Idiots and Angels

Directed By: Bill Plympton

In this at once dark and whimsical animated feature, a depraved man must cope with the fact that he has suddenly sprouted angel wings that make wrongdoing impossible.

Bill Plympton’s eye-catching hand-drawn animation fleshes out a tale that hasn’t a line of dialogue- and doesn’t need it. Everything we need to know about an individual’s state of mind is effectively communicated through facial expressions and non-verbal utterances- but most importantly, through their movements. The central character’s no-nonsense, calculated manner is reflected through exaggerated but purposeful, broad motion, which is wonderfully contrasted with freer, more fluid gestures of his love (well “lust”, actually- this jerk isn’t quite capable of the former) interest- a young woman who, though it is often restrained, holds a great joy for life.

Because this is animation, everything can be taken one step further to ramp up the action. And with a vivid imagination like Plympton’s, the possibilities are endless. In this world, anything can morph into something else. Inanimate objects are constantly taking on life-like characteristics- and not just for a laugh, but to actively contribute to the scene as if they were bit players.

A gloomy tone resurfaces here and there on account of the fact that most of the characters are rather lamentable people completely driven by self-interest, but Plympton is adept at swiftly swinging the viewer between that heavy mood to a lighter one, with a good dose of clever humor thrown in- which frequently makes subtle statements about human nature.

All in all, just for its sheer backwardness, it’s intriguing to watch this scenario of a man completely bewildered and frustrated by being unable to act on criminal impulses unfold. Anyone having to be subject to such outrageous extremes, in order to be corralled into behaving like decent human being, is truly a comically off-the-wall plotline. And vibrant Plymptonian animation is the perfect way to jump into it.

Marleah Martin