Michel Gondry has seen his critical fortunes vary based on his collaborators, from the modern classic Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to the regrettable Green Hornet, but no one has ever doubted his prodigious inventiveness. He’s created one of the most distinct aesthetics in film today through techniques ranging from camera-based trickery to his handcrafted props. In Microbe and Gasoline, a film that he both wrote and directed about a friendship between two teenage misfits, Gondry does not use any special effects but his signature is evident in the mutant mechanical wonders that unite the boys.
The titular duo Microbe and Gasoline are really named Daniel (Ange Darnet) and Théo (Théophile Baquet), their nicknames are the work of bullies in their French 8th grade class. Daniel is small for his age, overprotected at home and shy at school and seems content to shrink into the background of social situations. When new student Théo arrives, who is gangly but with brash confidence and a mechanical mind, the two outsiders connect, finding that their differences complement each other and united by a restless creativity. Like most teenagers, they yearn for escape from home and count the days until summer break. After Théo finds a small two-cylinder engine in a scrap yard, they strike upon a novel way to spend their vacation; building their own car out of junk and driving it across France. When their first iteration is rejected by the DMV as completely illegal for public roads, they rebuild the car as a cottage on wheels, complete with flowers in the windows. Whenever a cop approaches, they drive it off the road and release a slat to hide the wheels. In these makeshift digs, they spread their wings and adventure across the country until they must return to the reality of their home lives.
Despite its contemporary setting, Microbe and Gasoline is defiantly pre-digital (one iPhone makes a brief appearance before meeting a hilariously ugly end) and is a pleasant reminder of what can be built with hands as opposed to pixels. Théo’s car/house has to be seen to be believed and brings a smile to the face every time it (slowly) drives across the screen. Much of Gondry’s past work has been daringly high-concept, which thrills when it works but doesn’t always work. Microbe and Gasoline is a much simpler premise, portraying a teenage camaraderie and desire for escape that’s universally relatable, even if it might be closer to Gondry’s personal experience, set in his hometown of Versailles. Freed from a complex narrative, Gondry is able to invest his energy in a series of low-stakes moments that consistently entertain without straining credulity. The film rests on the backs of its two young stars, who have an authentic chemistry and both push each other to grow in unexpected ways.
In movie terms, Microbe and Gasoline doesn’t reinvent the wheel (though it does reinvent the car). It’s simply a low-key charmer of a road film, puttering through France on a two-cylinder engine.
