Film Review: BigBug

Very Average Joe
Sep 5
4 min read

Title: BigBug

Director(s): Jean-Pierre Jeunet

Screenwriter(s): Guillaume Laurant & Jean-Pierre Jeunet

Studio: Tapioca Films, Eskwad

Released: 2022

Runtime: 1h 50m

Starring: Elsa Zylberstein, Isabelle Nanty, Stéphane De Groodt, Claude Perron, Youssef Hajdi, Claire Chust, Marysole Fertard, Hélie Thonnat, François Levantal

Set in 2045, the film opens with Alice (Elsa Zylberstein) hosting Max (Stéphane De Groodt) who is trying to seduce her. His son, Leo (Hélie Thonnat), is also present even though he is mostly indifferent and is supposed to be at home.

Alice is artistically inclined and loves her antiques, so there are four robots that are older models, including a maid named Monique (Claude Perron). The house is run by an AI named Nestor.

Alice’s ex-husband, Victor (Youssef Hajdi), and his “secretary”, Jennifer (Claire Chust), then turn up to bring home Alice and Victor’s adopted daughter, Nina (Marysole Fertard), while the neighbor Françoise (Isabelle Nanty) also interrupts to look for her dog Toby.

The premise is basically “everyone visits/interrupts simultaneously” and then “everyone is trapped”. Apparently, there is some danger outside, leading the AI to lock down the house for everyone’s safety. The plot follows Alice and her guests as they get increasingly stressed and try to escape.

L to R: Jennifer, Victor, Françoise, Monique (far back), Nina, Alice (center), Max, Leo.

It is an interesting enough premise and setting. The themes are obvious: the ubiquitousness of AI, its limitations and its potential to dominate. Unnecessary and inflexible bureaucracy is another problem. This, of course, need not be managed by AI. Humans are capable of the same.

More on the themes later. The problem is that the plot lacks movement. The characters are literally stuck in the house—that is admittedly the point—but such a premise requires some dramatic action to compensate for this.

The characters do make several attempts to escape, but the plot fails to effectively use all seven human characters and four robots to mitigate its stagnant nature. Much of it is about their relationships, which is fine in itself, but not necessarily in a way that is interesting or particularly relevant to the AI-driven world.

It’s just them being horny: Max is trying to seduce Alice, Alice is frustrated that she isn’t getting any, Françoise has a thing for her robot, and Jennifer is desperate to get out of the house to get married. Victor wants to get out too but it’s not overtly driven by sexual desire. The two youngsters, Leo and Nina, are surprisingly more modest, at least initially.

The domestic robots’ loyalty is initially questionable but this intrigue is soon settled. Whilst the narrative avoids dragging out this question, since this has been done before, the robots are not particularly active in driving the plot either.

It is quite some time before something significant occurs and the film enters the final act. In a way, it is as if the film is divided into two acts, missing a second act.

Given the themes, there are glimpses of 1984 and even Brazil (1985), but the themes are not explored in-depth and are not as cleverly presented as the aforementioned works. For example, it is established right at the start that the world is practically by an AI named Yonyx (François Levantal) and his face is often plastered on TV like Big Brother, and Levantal is perfect for the role.

As part of the humor, Yonyx runs a show called Homo Ridiculus in which he humiliates humans. The characters discuss whether they are actors as the show keeps appearing, with Leo insisting that it is not him turning it on.

Consistent to the theme and as a homage to the likes of Blade Runner (1982), there is also large-screen advertising which, in this case, is on a large hover-drone unit that is always hanging around to the point of being invasive.

Visually, it is brilliantly designed, adopting the colorful retro style. Everything is neat and tidy, but it is obviously a false utopia. Many super-tight one-shots that are used with good effect.

However, one wishes there are more meaningful or half-meaningful visuals that really integrate with and bring out the world. On balance, Brazil and another one of Terry Gilliam’s sci-fi satire, The Zero Theorem (2013), and Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s The City of Lost Children (1995) feel more complete and substantial visually. The latter is a different genre, but the point is that the three films’ art design and cinematography don’t just look good, they truly are part of the worldbuilding and storytelling.

The performances are solid, mostly taking the overacted approach that fits. Combined with the single location, it has a little stage-play feel to it. Overall, the film looks good and it has some humor, but it lacks a plot and fails to capitalize on the opportunity for some dark and offbeat humor. Accepting the plot more-or-less as is, it would work as a short film at less than one hour.