Annette is a puppet. A baby puppet. Not a muppet. Not animated. Not ventriloquism. The film had Marion Cottilard give birth to a creepy wooden toy and then gave it the titular role. It would be easy to say this was a mistake.
It was a mistake. I’m not above “easy.” And I wish that were the only poor choice this bloated depressopera made.
One of these days, I’m gonna sigh and say, “Forget it, Jim, it’s Cannes.” Yes, Annette is yet another darling of Cannes that failed to translate. You would think that a guy who answers to “Frog” would have a natural affinity for French passions. Not so. Forget it, Jim, it’s Cannes.
Far from forgettable, however, Annette is going to be with me for a long time. From the film’s decision to break the fourth wall during the opening credits through the elimination of all the potentially likable characters by Act II and especially when I consider a puppet playing a human child, Annette is –like it or not- going to occupy a place in my brain until somebody remakes A Clockwork Orange.
The film is about a newly married power couple, Henry McHenry (Adam Driver) and Ann Defrasnoux (Cotillard). She’s an opera singer; he’s a “comedian.” She is conventionally talented, while he has a one-man stage show “The Ape of God” that 
scores of devoted fans love for no discernable reason. Wearing a green hooded bathrobe over swimtrunks, the stage outfit “Ape” wears resembles what you might get if you tried to cosplay a prize fighter from things found only in your house. All that’s missing is a pair of oven mitts as boxing gloves. This amateurishness is only surpassed by the act itself in which Driver feigns depression while wander-moping on stage to set (and often taped) audience reactions. Well, moping when he’s not actively hostile to his fans. Annette went on for 2 ½ hours, but easily seemed like five. I didn’t laugh a single time.
Oh, and did I mention it was a musical? Most of the dialogue is both sung and advance-the-plot relevant. That includes the self-referential opening number “So May We Start” which immediately put me in the mood of the beginning to “The Muppet Show.” And speaking of Muppets, I never lost that feeling because late in Act I, Henry and Ann give birth to a puppet, Annette, in what has to be the weirdest moment in 2021 film.
Judging by some wonderfully put together moments, like one in which Cotillard and Driver sing a duet on a motorbike, it is clear that director Leos Carax had full control of this material … which begs the questions: 1) Why did he make the film revolve around Henry, the worst character in the film? 2) Why couldn’t he see that film resembled a ski slope of entertainment value (high at first, then consistently and sharply declining as the film wore on)? 3) And
finally, why oh why oh why did he choose to make their daughter a singing puppet?
Leos Carax won the director’s prize and his film was nominated for the Palm D’or. Hmmmm, a film that’s both bizarre and depressing? Well, of course Cannes loved it. Of course, being skillfully directed comes with its own double-edged d’or prize: as the film grew more and more unpleasant, it seemed that Carax and his editor (Nelly Quettier) both agreed that they’d solve the issue by making the scenes even longer. Why say something in one minute when you could take five? Don’t just hint at a puppet; let the audience explore the wooden joints and sandpaper skin. Are we sure that isn’t a real baby? We are now.
So with LeChucky, Maid Marion, and Adam Driver demonstrating the best shirtless acting this side of Mark Wahlberg, Annette made a lot of noise and turned a lot of stomachs. I have no idea how pretentious you have to be to find this material enjoyable, but it’s far more pretentious than me, which is saying a bunch. Annette is a skillfully constructed piece of merde. I can see that bright minds created it, but the bright minds who will inevitably deconstruct it in film school are not in for a treat.
Henry, Ann, and baby all sing
In a tale most disheartening
The bizarre gets oddler
With their puppet toddler
And yet, I feel like the one pulled by strings
Rated R, 141 Minutes
Director: Leos Carax
Writer: Ron Mael, Russell Mael
Genre: Hours that will haunt you
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Puppets
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: People who don’t need to be enthralled with Cannes
