J'ai perdu mon corps, Jérémie Caplin, France, 2019 - His title alone means that I have already lost my body in the status of extraordinary. A quality that can also be attributed to all the artistic, narrative and aesthetic aspects of this French cartoon. Unlike many of its genre counterparts, it targets a much more mature target group and tells the story of Naufel, who suffered a heavy blow in his youth and has since led a lonely life as a poorly paid pizza driver in Paris. One day he met a young librarian and started working in her father's workshop, which finally gave his existence a meaning and perspective again.
Even if the aforementioned story forms the basis of the story of my loss of my body, this film begins in a very different way: with a human hand that - completely without an attached body - wanders the city, seemingly aimlessly, but still striving for a clear destination. What this definition is, how this storyline relates to the other (both are told in parallel) and how they ultimately come together is spoiler territory, but at this point it should at least be revealed that the reckoning comes from incredibly intense and simultaneously intimate strength.
Naufel's story is about a vague sense of loss in an inhospitable, hostile world - and, above all, about the painful loss of his own dream. At the beginning of the film, young Naufel tells his parents that he wants to become a pianist and astronaut before fate takes its terrible course and blows away his goals. But even if you think things are going uphill again, reality intervenes over and over again, usually brutally. And yet I lost my body, despite all its melancholy, its emotional heaviness, its almost depressive mood - this is ultimately a positive, life-affirming film. One that shows that every little step forward is important. For the person himself, as well as for his dreams.