The Groundbreaking Animated Motion-Picture That You Probably Didn’t See

Little Amélie or the Character of Rain: Elegance in Children’s Media

Screencap from “Little Amélie”

Source: Goodfellas, The Hollywood Reporter. https://goodfellas.film/movie/little-amelie/

By: Quinn Tarim

Maïlys Vallade’s and Liane Cho-Han’s debut film “Little Amélie” had an impact in three stages; sorrow, for it having ended, catharsis, for the satisfaction of having watched something that I immediately knew I would come back to again and again, and an extremely potent grief that persists even in the penning of this article.

Why was the theater so empty? 

Going Beyond: The Evolution of Children’s Media

With dozens of big-name films and panelists arriving every year, it’s no wonder that SCAD’s Film Fest presents a particularly unique challenge to its participants; there’s an abundance of films to watch and only so much time, so many tickets, and so many opportunities to attend them all. Unable to secure tickets for the other films I actively wanted to see, I had sat down to watch “Little Amélie” as an afterthought, writing it off as a film meant for children with the sort of derogative connotation the label usually carries. Children’s media was, in my mind, just that– media intended for children, usually ages 4-10, with shallower themes, simpler plotlines, and black-and-white morals. I had not braced myself to be violently pulled into the perspective of the titular Amélie, freshly 2 and a half, witnessing the world through the lens of a Belgian girl living in post-war Japan who believes herself to be god. Having begun her life in a vegetative state, Amélie brilliantly narrates the events that shape her most formative years, most prominently, her relationship with Nishio-san, the family maid whose presence defines Amélie’s view of topics ranging from carp to why people die. 

Imagine, for a moment, a film that reaches past the eyes and into the realm of childhood nostalgia, then exposes that soft relatability to the all-too-real horrors of war, death, disease, and unrelenting change. Furthermore; imagine the film does not, even once, stop being a movie for children. “Little Amélie” is simultaneously a film about drowning and springtime, falling bombs and first words, digging out of your own grave and the sweetness of white chocolate. It encompasses severity and fantasia in equal amounts, an achievement that I, like many others, had previously thought children’s media to be incapable of. 

“It’s a mix of all these parameters that we had to balance. The film is for grown-ups and children. We have two layers of understanding in the movie, and that was the biggest challenge.”

Liane Cho-Han, Hammer to Nail, November 21, 2025

Boasting gorgeous 2D animation, breathtaking color palettes, and exhilarating scenes played over a masterful score, “Little Amélie” does not forfeit quality nor does it permit its categorization to be a limitation. The film is unapologetically beautiful, with a visual quality that was previously reserved only for films intended for older audiences. It comes as little surprise, then, that “Little Amelie” has won several awards since its global reception, most notably the Grand Jury Prize at the Animation Is Film Festival. 

Amélie greeting springtime 

Source: Deadline, Maybe Movies, Ikkei Films https://deadline.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/AME_COM_STILLS30_020.png?w=681&h=383&crop=1

The Tragedy of Film Fest

With the aforementioned praise of the film itself put aside, the opening question returns to the forefront; just what specifically contributed to such a low turnout? Among the 744 seats in the main house of Trustees, barely 40 to 50 were filled. How could such an incredible film be so unseen?

Understandably, a showtime of 9:00 in the morning on a school day boded somewhat poorly for the film’s chances of reception, but beyond that, the label of “child’s film” feels almost as if having done the movie a disservice, not because it is not a film for children, but because the connotation of children’s media carries with it the expectation of mediocrity. In those empty theatre seats, I immediately understood two things;

1. A film meant for children had changed my life.
2. A life-changing film went woefully unwatched, likely because it was a children’s film.

Vallade’s and Cho-Han’s work represent a developing trend in children’s media as a whole; in an age of anti-intellectualism where soulless entertainment threatens media literacy across the board, there is an increasing resistance in the form of films that enrich and encourage audiences of all ages to think, to feel, and to connect. By expanding complex messages into media meant for younger audiences, the groundwork is set and the bar is raised; a child’s movie no longer excludes children from introspection, rather, it now invites children to be introspective in a way that can be easily digested.  

Delightfully, “Little Amélie” has since been released globally and is showing in select theaters around the world, and has since received well-deserved praise and an overwhelmingly positive reception. The importance of Vallade and Cho-Han’s work cannot be understated; watching  “Little Amélie” is not only an invitation to partake in a great piece of cinema, but furthermore to support and endorse the evolution of children’s media into something that can be unbelievably sophisticated in its own right.  In the event that one of those empty Trustees seats could have belonged to you, dear reader, there’s still an opportunity to give “Little Amélie” the viewing it deserves.