Japan becomes watercolor in ‘Little Amélie or the Character of Rain’
A children’s tale fuels the year’s most beautiful animated film, based on the short autobiography by author Amélie Nothomb
Little Amélie and her Japanese caretaker Nishio.
Courtesy of CMPR
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
The French Belgian animated gem Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is now in theaters courtesy of GKIDS and directors Maïlys Vallade and Liane-Cho Han. The film is based on the magical short autobiography by author Amélie Nothomb, who, although born in Belgium, cites the city of Kobe, Japan as her place of metaphysical and artistic birth. In the book, titled The Character of Rain (or Métaphysique des tubes), she describes the world in mystic hues, from the perspective of an omniscient child, leaning into the Japanese folkloric belief that kids, until the age of 3, are godlike, or close to the spirit world.
In Vallade and Han’s adaptation, the character’s perspective takes the form of eye-popping watercolors, turning its Japanese setting into a gorgeous vision of childhood memory. The eponymous Amélie (Loïse Charpentier) is born in the 1960s in a vegetative state to French-speaking Belgian parents Patrick (Marc Arnaud) and Danièle (Laetitia Coryn) in a small village in Japan. She harbors universal knowledge, commenting internally on the way she ought to be treated and venerated by her older siblings, Juliette (Haylee Issembourg) and André (Isaac Schoumsky), until eventually, she finally learns to speak and interact.
The world around Amélie feels enormous, from the saturated colors of the flowers and lush landscapes, to the loud whirring of the family’s vacuum cleaner, to the eager, oppressive chomping of the koi fish brought home as a symbol of perseverance. However, as in the life of many young children, it’s Amélie’s visiting grandmother Claude (Cathy Cerdà) who brings out her mischievous side. Their connection quite literally radiates off the screen, as the filmmakers turn emotions into expressionistic colors, and sensations into music.
Equally important in Amélie’s young life is her Japanese caretaker Nishio (Victoria Grosbois), with whom she forms a vital connection, and from whom she learns about human experiences—like loss. Nishio, while young, still lives in the shadow of World War II, and carries with her a pain that she can seldom hide. However, Nishio’s frigid aunt Kashima-san (Yumi Fujimori) remains distrusting of westerners for the same reason, and disapproves of her budding friendship with Amélie, and the tender moments in which she teaches the child Japanese traditions—like the Obon lantern festival meant to honor the dead.
"Little Amélie or the Character of Rain" shows the world from the point of view of a toddler named Amélie.
Courtesy of CMPR
These cultural frictions and animosities live in close proximity, informing the toddler Amélie’s emotional conception of the world, and often impacting her imaginative visual processing too. There are stark moments when her children’s storybook perspective becomes practically infected with worry, sapping the brightness out of the frame and inducing a sense of danger. However, Vallade and Han’s visually magical version of the story also seeks to act as a narrative balm, closely analyzing Nothomb’s own life and relationships—to Japan and to her siblings, both in her childhood and in later years—and using their real-life rocky nature as a platform for wish fulfilment. The result is a fairytale of sorts, in which memories of childhood wrestle between the pristine and the thorny.
Although its animation takes some cues from Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli—the textured environments; the detailed animals; the expressive, Disney-esque eyes—Little Amélie or the Character of Rain is entirely unique in its painterly conception of natural and manmade environments. Its textures, in turn, feature a malleability that suits the movie’s flexible magical realism, allowing surfaces to more readily morph into dreamscapes as charged moments are filtered through the eyes of its toddler protagonist. However, this approach isn’t a mere visual gimmick. Rather, it’s aimed at creating a shifting understanding of everything around Amélie as she begins to grasp the most basic ideas about cultural divides, and how to bridge them through human experience. Among the year’s animated fare aimed at children, Vallade and Han’s wonderfully expressive adaptation is the most immaculate and fulfilling.
Published on November 14, 2025
Words by Siddhant Adlakha
Siddhant Adlakha is a critic and filmmaker from Mumbai, though he now lives in New York City. They're more similar than you'd think. Find him at @SiddhantAdlakha on Twitter