Cuca is a boy who lives in a distant world, in a small village in the interior of his mythical country. One day, his father doesn't come back, Cuca then goes on an adventurous quest in search of his father.
Kaleidoscopic in its opening up of brilliant color and of the troubling interaction between corporate "people" and flesh-and-bone people, between the environment and civilization.
Considering the film's conspicuous music and fluid, colorful, dizzying tapestry, it seems that Abreu is more concerned with evoking emotions than presenting a clear arc. Until, that is, the very end, when he wields his sledgehammer.
Although the film is a bit abstract and largely free of dialogue (what little speaking there is is a whispered babble of tongues), it has a universal simplicity-we're seeing life through the wide, innocent eyes of a naif.
Writer-director Ale Abreu's use (sparing but striking) of the blank-page aesthetic makes the frequent, lavish splashes of kaleidoscopic color all the more interesting.
The Brazilian fable Boy and the World, one of this year's Oscar nominees in the Animated Feature category, is a stirring blend of gorgeous animation and a simple, heartfelt story.
The little boy here... is one of the most distinctive and adorable animated characters you'll ever come across, and his introduction to "the world out there" is a moving revelation indeed.
This magical Brazilian fantasy by Alê Abreu reminded me of Nina Paley's Sita Sings the Blues and Tomm Moore's The Secret of Kells in its crafty combination of simply drawn characters (the boy) and ornate geometrical patterns (the world).
Ale Abreu's animated film feels like a child's crayon drawing that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet that was somehow brought to life, set free into the world, and stumbled onto an adventure that is unlike anything you've ever seen or heard.