I settled in for The Secret of Kells with quite a bit of anticipation. I knew that the Irish movie had been a dark horse entry in the Best Animated Film category at the Oscars, and that it had something to do with “How the Irish Saved Civilization,” in author Thomas Cahill’s formulation. That is, the film deals with the way that Irish monks kept the fires of civilization glowing during the so-called Dark Ages by creating lavishly beautiful, handmade books (there were no other kind, of course) that escaped the depredations of Viking raiders.
The Book of Kells is perhaps the most famous such book — though I didn’t know much more about the book than that. Most alluring, I knew the film had some link to the Triplets of Belleville, on my short list for most wonderful animated film ever.
Thus informed, I bought my ticket, and proceeded to be slightly disappointed. Kells may have produced by the Triplets producers Didier Brunner and Viviane Vanfleteren, but it wasn’t directed by the earlier film’s guiding genius Sylvain Chomet (who by chance does have a film coming out this year). None of this is really a criticism of Kells, of course. Just a note-to-self to either read the advance material more carefully — or not at all.
Kells was made by an Irish animation team led by Tomm Moore — and there is an intriguing story behind the film’s making. It’s about the grim life that the film’s plucky young hero, Brendan (voiced by Evan McGuire), leads behind the high walls that Abbot Cellach (Brendan Gleeson) is building around the abbey.
The Abbot is allowing his fear of the marauding Vikings to rule and darken his life. When a monk from the recently destroyed Kells Abbey arrives, the abbot’s fears are confirmed. But the treasure that the visitor is carrying — the book that will eventually become the real-life Book of Kells — opens the boy’s eyes to the magic and beauty of the world that the Abbot has been trying to shield him from.
Pretty soon young Brendan is sneaking off into the woods, where he runs into scary wolves and intriguing female shape-shifter who becomes his ally in his quest to .... what, exactly?
There was the disappointment. The handmade art here is often arrestng, and beautifully replicates the Book of Kells’ curlicues. But the story is half-baked, at best. Once the tensions are set up, Moore rushes through them. The film clocks in at 75 minutes, but in truth it needed 20 minutes more.
Given the self-inflicted bloodbath that the Catholic Church is living through right now, I would’ve liked to have seen this heroic chapter from its past be developed more clearly.
From watching this film, you would never know that the original Book of Kells is in fact a beautifully illustrated collection of the four Gospels. I guess that fact has little to do with Celtic fairy world that Moore evokes here.
