Review of Ondine (2010) by Maria Q — 11 Mar 2010

Syracuse, a fisherman and recovering alcoholic, catches an unconscious woman in his trawler's nets just off the coast of his small Irish hometown. Unable to remember who she is and how she came to her current predicament, she adopts the name Ondine, meaning "she came from the water." When she reveals an unusual talent for singing fishes into Syracuse's nets, she enchants his disabled young daughter, Annie. Annie is convinced that Ondine is a selkie- a mythical creature who can live on the land for several years at a time, unless her subterranean spouse claims her back. Selkie or not, someone is coming for Ondine.

Sound familiar? Wondering if I've reviewed this already? Yes, it's Ponyo for grown-ups! But it does manage to be a superior film too, at the very least because it's not nearly as shrill as the dubbed version of Miyazaki's film. It's a well crafted and gorgeously shot folk-tale of a film, that straddles fantasy and drama with only slight unease. With a 12A certificate, it occasionally shoots for the younger audience, but it also allows for copious swimming scenes with ingénue Alicja Bachleda stripped to her pants, which director Neil Jordan brings forward with gusto.

The more rational of the two proffered explanations for Ondine's origins is also on the more adult side of things. To that end, a stock Romanian baddy comes stalking around the small town, slightly reminiscently of Christopher Fulford in Danny Boyle's Millions, another film which married a fledgling crime thriller storyline with a child's perspective on matters.

There's certainly nothing so remarkable as In Bruges from Farrell here, but then it doesn't have to be the best thing he's ever done, and fair play to him for the presumable influence of his star power in getting this film to the screen. Bachleda is appropriately dainty as the title character, although perhaps the tone might have came off better if she weren't so sexualised by Jordan's lens.

Elsewhere, Stephen Rea, Dervla Kirwan and Tony Curran all make fleeting appearances as the townspeople with the appropriate level of befuddlement that Ponyo was missing. But the most charming performance on show is by young Alison Barry as Annie, who more or less clarifies Bachleda's airy ambiguity and keeps the central enigma engaging to the audience.

Clinging like a barnacle to a typical three-act structure, Ondine is still a very likable and enchanting film from a country that rarely seems to make a big noise in the cinema unless they're offended by Leap Year. Like its central character, it's alluring irrespective of its origin.

In the shadow of the following week's releases from directors like Paul Greengrass and Martin Scorcese, it seems like this is destined to be a one-week engagement for most cinemas. In the hope that it's more broadly seen later on DVD, I can heartily recommend this feast of charm and whimsy, even if it's a bit difficult to discern its target audience.