Back in early 2014, I was totally enchanted by the Belgian/French/Luxembourgian co-production of Ernest & Celestine, a darling little film that had debuted in its native countries two years earlier, but saw no exposure in the States — aside from a few film festivals — until home video release in June 2014.
The mysterious, jasked Mifasol refuses to abide by Gibberitia's repressive law against music, much to the annoyance of the bear police patrol. |
This sequel once again boasts the lush, hand-drawn watercolor beauty of early Disney animated films and the more recent efforts of Hayao Miyazaki, albeit in a gentler manner. Animation director Davy Durand and his team focus more on character; settings — building interiors, cityscapes — are simpler, often fading into the background.
As before, this saga is faithful to the look and atmosphere of the two dozen-plus children’s books published by Belgian author/illustrator Monique Martin, employing the nom de plume Gabrielle Vincent, derived from the first names of her grandparents. She concocted gentle adventures for best friends Celestine, a scrappy little mouse, and Ernest, a grumpy bear musician.
The franchise this time has been taken over by directors Julien Chheng and Jean-Christopher Roger, working with an original script by Guillaume Mautalent, Sébastien Oursel and Jean Regnaud, from an idea by Agnès Bidaud and Didier Brunner. (If this sounds like too many cooks in the kitchen, we’ll get back to that.)
The story begins on an exciting day, as Ernest (voiced by Andrew Kishino) wakens from his long winter hibernation. Celestine (Ashley Boettcher), thrilled to have her boon companion back, gets too excited and accidentally damages his beloved Stradibearius violin. He’s dismayed; she’s absolutely crushed (and nothing is more heartbreaking than Celestine looking and sounding forlorn).
The only person capable of repairing the violin is its maker, Octavious, who resides in Ernest’s homeland of Gibberitia. When Ernest inexplicably refuses to make that trip, Celestine — battered violin in its case — impulsively begins the journey without him.
That rouses Ernest, because he knows the route can be dangerous. Once reunited, the pair board a skyway that takes them into the heart of Gibberitia, which he has described as a magical place full of music and art. But their arrival in the town square is oddly quiet ... too quiet. Ernest’s attempt to play an accordion attracts a squad of angry bear police, who tell them that — according to Ernestov’s Law — all forms of music have been banned for many years.
(In a droll touch, pretty much every statement in Gibberitia ends in “-ov.”)