Last night I bought detergent and watched The Triplets of Belleville. It was adorable, while making fun of France, the U.S. -- basically everything it touched on, it simultaneously made fun of and smiled at. (Fred Astaire, the Tour de France, the position of maitre d'hotel, people who love appliances, Boy Scouts. . .) It was technically in French, but the main characters didn't speak, so it didn't particularly matter.
A sampling of the fun:
This movie reminded me of Miyazaki in the way that the characters never ceased to do everyday actions that made them feel more real and textured -- like this shot, where the grandson is scratching his bum. (Compare to a Disney animated film, where the only gestures animated tend to be significant to the plot.)
Lots of cuteness happening here, as the grandmother coaches her grandson for the Tour de France.
I just liked this character (sort of a random truck driver.)
They go to "Belleville," which is fairly obviously New York (I think. The extremely fat people waddling about everywhere would seem to be a comment on the American lifestyle.) According to this movie, there is a bridge between New York and France.
These tall, skinny, somewhat creepy ladies are "the triplets of Belleville," attracted by the grandmother playing a song on a bent bike rim.
A Belleville triplet using dynamite and patience to net a delicious dinner of frogs.
More later. . .