Adam Elliot and Memoir of a Snail: Keep Moving Forward
Adam Elliot is a major name in contemporary animation, specifically for the worlds and characters he makes via unforgettable, idiosyncratic stop-motion designs and executions. A graduate of the Victorian College of the Arts in 1996 with a specialization in animation, he released his first short film, Uncle, shortly afterward; the success of this film jump-started his career. Since then, he has released numerous animated short films, including the Academy Award winning Harvie Krumpet in 2003; Elliot has amassed five Annency Cristals from the Annecy International Animation Film Festival as well over the course of his career. In 2008, Elliot released his debut feature-length film, the beloved Mary and Max which has only continued to wow audiences for over fifteen years.
Elliot only released one short film in the 2010s: Ernie Biscuit in 2015. Nine years later comes Elliot’s big return with his second feature-length effort, Memoir of a Snail. The accolades for this film began to pour in before it was even released theatrically in any major capacity, even winning the top prize at the BFI London Film Festival for Best Film. The film had its Canadian premiere at the TIFF LightBox as a part of the organization’s Secret Movie Club program, where an unsuspecting audience was delighted with this long-awaited project; to no surprise, the film was met with guffaws and tears
Elliot’s films fall almost always under the umbrella term of tragicomedy, as he finds a beautiful balance between the beauty, hilarity, and hideousness of everyday life. He always champions misfits within hostile and/or negligent environments, while helping us to see the bright spots in dark moments. Despite the aforementioned label, Elliot prefers to see his works under a different title: Clayographies (the amalgamation of claymation and biographical pictures). Essentially, he uses filmmaking to understand what makes us human, and analyze his experience in this crazy thing we call life.
As a result, his films always have adorable-yet-peculiar characters, looming and/or claustrophobic settings, and the boldness to take on any concept head-on. Unafraid to get into both the best and worst traits of the human experience, Elliot’s films are remarkably effective as a result. With all of that being said, it was a pleasure for Films Fatale’s critic, Andreas Babiolakis, to have a sit-down chat with Adam Elliot and get to know the director on a more personal level, learn more about how Memoir of a Snail came to be, and celebrate all of the underdogs out there. We are grateful for this opportunity, and you can read how the conversation transpired below.
You can find Adam Elliot on Instagram here, and check out his IMDb profile here. Memoir of a Snail opens in Toronto November 15th.
Warning: This interview briefly contains spoilers for Memoir of a Snail. Reader discretion is advised.
Films Fatale: Memoir of a Snail had a huge reception with its Canadian premiere at the TIFF LightBox. You’ve answered this already at your Q&A at this premiere, but I loved the answer you gave there, so I will ask it again: Why did you pick a snail as the central animal for this film?
Adam Elliot: I’ll give the long version. Originally, the first draft of the screenplay (I did sixteen drafts) was Memoir of a Ladybird or Ladybug. But then that film, Lady Bird, by Greta Gerwig came out! I thought “Oh, gee…” That first draft felt very saccharine, and it was getting a bit kitschy and twee. I thought “surely, there must be an insect, creature, or animal that would be a better metaphor, and more symbolic of what Grace’s enduring.” I went through the whole animal kingdom and I decided on snails, because, primarily, it [stems from] that thing we were taught as children: not to touch a snail’s antennae. Of course, when you do, [the snails] retract into their shell, like a hermit crab. What Grace is doing her whole life is retracting continually from the world into the comfort and safety of her hoard. I love that sort of metaphor.
I also love the spirals on a snail’s shell. I thought that’d be a lovely visual motif of life going full circle, it’s a cycling symbol. Then I discovered that snails can’t reverse: they can only go forward. They can go around in circles, but they can’t go backwards! I thought that fits really well with my favourite quote by the philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, which is “Life can only be understood backwards, but we have to live it forwards.” I loved that link [to snails]. I just kept finding these connections. I find snails fascinating, they’re so peculiar. Some people see them as ugly, but I see them as graceful. There’s that fluidity that they have. This just popped into my head, too! There’s that Aesop’s fable where “slow and steady wins the race” (The Tortoise and the Hare) that ties in here, too. Grace is moving slowly all the way through her life and has just been having things inflicted upon her (all this trauma, and all the causes of this trauma which she suffers). She, of course, gets rewarded at the end with Gilbert coming back. That’s why [I went with] snails.
FF: Memoir of a Snail is already picking up accolades and praise despite not even being officially released yet. Between this, Mary and Max, Harvie Krumpet, and your other works, why do you think your films resonate so deeply with audiences? Is it the hard work you and your team put into these stories and worlds?
AE: You hit the nail on the head. I put a conscious effort towards making characters that are universal, archetypes — like Grace is an archetype for underdogs or misfits — it’s important that they have an Australian flavour to them, but they’re primarily universal. What’s interesting with this film is that it’s resonating with younger people. I think they lock into Grace’s loneliness and isolation. Maybe COVID had something to do with that? I hope all my characters are relatable because they all have experiences which are everyday [occurrences]. I think we’ve all gone through periods of loneliness, and of feeling different (as though we don’t fit in). I think these [feelings] resonate with everybody.
I explore imperfection a lot throughout my films. I really am fascinated by our flaws, and why we stupidly try to fix our flaws when often we should be celebrating our flaws. Which is why I put the theme of kintsugi into this film [editor’s note: kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery or artifacts with urushi lacquer and precious powdered metals so the cracks can prominently stick out as features]. I see myself as having multiple flaws. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been able to say “You know what? This is just who I am. I’m a fat, bald, gay man” — not that being gay is a flaw! (Laughs) It’s certainly not. I am exploring similar things throughout my films. I’m trying to create characters who are identifiable and relatable for sure.
FF: The nation of Australia and its films are held in a special place in my heart. When your first feature length film, Mary and Max, was released in 2008, it preceded a wave of beloved works from Australia like 2010’s Animal Kingdom and George Miller’s Mad Max: Fury Road from 2015. Where do you think Australia’s film scene is at now? Where does Memoir of a Snail fall into this?
AE: Wow! You know, I feel very lonely in Australia, in that I’m the only one doing these sorts of films. Apart from the quirkiness, which is the thing that links all Australian films together (the word “quirky”, which I used to find grating, but I’m quirky and whimsical, I’m sure). I think Australian cinema’s not struggling, but we haven’t had a Muriel’s Wedding, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, or Chopper for some time. If you exclude the works of Baz Luhrmann or George Miller, who are more global and funded by Hollywood… Yeah, I think there’s been some attention on Memoir of a Snail because it has a theatrical release in America, and also Canada and many other countries. It’s doing well. It’s winning prizes; it just won the [Best Film] prize at the BFI London Film Festival, which was a big shock to myself, compared to the live action films! (Laughs) There’s been a lot of hype put on this film.
Having said that, Australians don’t go to see Australian films at the cinema. I don’t even know if [Australian films make up] two percent of the box office in Australia. We’re sadly as addicted to Netflix as the rest of the world. Getting people to the cinema’s a struggle. Although, young people are seemingly coming back to the cinemas post-COVID. [Australians] are certainly patriotic when it comes to our cinema. We’re proud of the films that do well overseas. We do have an inferiority complex, which is that you have to leave Australia, go and be validated in another country and then come back. (Laughs) I have a bittersweet, love-hate relationship with my country, but then who doesn’t?
FF: You’re touching upon the current state of cinema. The industry is in a weird place right now with streaming and economic struggles. How does the industry get out of these dark times? I’ll ask you, someone whose films showcase the blood, sweat, and tears that go into them. How do we get out of this?
AE: When I left film school in 1996, I was told that “cinema was dying.” Specifically, stop motion [animation] was a dying artform. Now, stop motion is going through a golden era: a renaissance. Guillermo del Toro and Wes Anderson are making stop motion [films]. I think that’s a reaction not only to the amount of CGI that we’re all used to seeing, but also now that AI’s here to stay. I think there’s a greater appreciation for films that are hand crafted, independent, more authentic and less studio generated. Going back to my experience of going to cinemas around the world, I think that young people are in the audience. That gives me some hope. I think, ultimately, it’s all about a good story that’s well told. You will eventually find your audience.
I know with this film, compared to Mary and Max, it is certainly reaching way more people thanks to social media, and sites like Letterboxd and Rotten Tomatoes. Compared that to Mary and Max, where there was none of that (FaceBook was only just invented). I feel like this is a better climate for me in a way, at the moment. On the downside, there’s so much competition for screen time. My glass is always half-empty and half-full at the same time. (Laughs) All I need to do is focus on what I’m doing, cross my fingers and hope that there will always be a place for films like mine, and there seems to be at the moment. That gives me hope. AI can just come and destroy everything and I’ll be selling T-shirts on the road or something! (Laughs)
After the recording stopped, Adam Elliot proceeded to tell Andreas Babiolakis that he actually used to sell T-shirts roadside before his animation career took off, which was a tidbit we thought was too appropriate to omit, especially given the themes of Memoir of a Snail, and how life can be cyclical but it is always moving forwards. Whether it’s his next film or his new stash of shirts, we’ll be the first in line to support him.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.