French animation hits differently. Most people grow up on a steady diet of Disney or Pixar, which is fine, but it creates a specific expectation of what an animated world looks like. Then you stumble across something like April and the Extraordinary World (originally titled Avril et le monde truqué), and suddenly you realize how narrow that perspective was. It’s gritty. It’s soot-stained. It’s weirdly obsessed with the smell of sulfur and the logistics of a world that literally ran out of wood and coal.
Honestly, it's a miracle this movie even exists in the form it does. Released in 2015 and directed by Christian Desmares and Franck Ekinci, it feels less like a modern digital product and more like a lost graphic novel brought to life. That’s because it’s based on the distinct visual style of Jacques Tardi. If you aren't familiar with Tardi, he’s a legend in the Franco-Belgian comics scene. His lines are thick, his characters have big noses, and his worlds feel heavy. This isn't the "shiny" steampunk of a Victoria's Secret runway or a cheap cosplay shop. This is "dirty" steampunk. It’s the kind of world where you can almost feel the grease under your fingernails.
The Alternate History of April and the Extraordinary World
The premise is a massive "what if."
Imagine it’s 1870. Napoleon III is about to go to war, but he visits a laboratory where scientists are trying to create an invincibility serum. Things go sideways. An explosion kills the Emperor and the scientists. Because of this specific disaster, the Franco-Prussian War never happens. Instead of progressing into the age of electricity and oil, the world gets stuck. For the next century, the greatest minds on the planet—think Einstein, Fermi, Hertz—start disappearing. Without the scientists to lead the way into the 20th century, technology plateaus.
By 1941, the world of April and the Extraordinary World is a smog-choked mess. Since nobody discovered electricity or nuclear power, everything runs on coal and charcoal. But they’ve used it all up. Europe is a wasteland of rusted metal and towering chimneys. France and Canada are at war over the last remaining forests. People wear gas masks just to go to the grocery store. It’s a fascinatingly bleak starting point for a movie that is, at its heart, an adventure story.
The story follows April, a young chemist voiced by Marion Cotillard in the original French (and Angela Galuppo in the English dub). She’s the daughter of two of those missing scientists. She lives inside a hollowed-out bronze statue with her only friend, a talking cat named Darwin. Darwin is a highlight. He’s not a "magical" talking cat; he’s a talking cat because of science, and he’s currently dying of lung disease because the air is so bad. That’s the kind of stakes we’re dealing with here.
Why the Tardi Aesthetic Changes Everything
Usually, animation tries to look "clean." Even when things are supposed to be dirty, the digital rendering often feels too smooth. This film rejects that. By using Tardi’s art style, the producers gave the movie a hand-drawn, tactile quality.
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Look at the way the steam engines are designed. They are clunky. They leak. They look like they might explode at any second. There’s a specific scene where a house transforms into a walking tank—a "rolling house"—and the mechanical complexity of it is staggering. It doesn't move with the fluid grace of a Studio Ghibli creation like Howl’s Moving Castle. It moves with a jerky, heavy thud. It feels grounded in a way most fantasy movies don't.
The Mystery of the Disappearing Scientists
The plot kicks into high gear when April realizes her parents might still be alive. She’s spent ten years trying to recreate the serum they were working on—the "Ultimate Serum" that grants immortality and heals all wounds. When she finally succeeds, she becomes a target for the police and a mysterious third party that has been kidnapping scientists for decades.
This is where the movie gets smart. It isn't just a chase. It’s a commentary on the ethics of progress.
We eventually find out where all the scientists went. Without spoiling the big reveal, let's just say the "twisted world" part of the title is literal. There is a hidden society beneath the surface, run by creatures that aren't human, who have been using human intelligence to build a literal rocket ship to leave Earth. They see humanity as a dead end. They think we’re just going to burn the planet to a cinder, so they’ve been "saving" the best minds to build a new garden on another planet.
It’s a classic sci-fi trope flipped on its head. Are the villains really villains if they’re trying to preserve life? Or are they monsters for stealing the very people who could have saved the Earth from its coal-powered nightmare? The movie doesn't give you a simple answer. It just shows you the consequences of both sides.
Breaking Down the Main Characters
- April: She’s prickly. She’s not your typical "plucky" heroine. She’s cynical, brilliant, and deeply lonely. Her obsession with the serum isn't about saving the world; it's about saving her cat.
- Darwin: The cat. He’s the moral compass. He’s witty, but his health is a constant reminder of the environmental collapse happening outside.
- Julius: A small-time crook who starts as a police informant but ends up helping April. Their relationship isn't a forced romance; it's a partnership born out of necessity.
- Pizoni: The police inspector. He’s a bumbling antagonist but represents the desperate, fading power of a government that has nothing left to govern but soot.
Environmental Anxiety in a Steampunk Lens
It’s impossible to talk about April and the Extraordinary World without talking about the environment. While the movie was made over a decade ago, it feels more relevant now than ever. The "twisted world" is a direct result of human greed and the refusal to innovate.
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In our world, we transitioned to different energy sources. In April’s world, they just kept burning wood until there were no trees left. There is a scene where someone sees a real tree for the first time, and it’s treated like a religious experience. It’s heartbreaking.
The film captures that specific type of "eco-anxiety" where you feel like you’re living in the ruins of a future that never happened. It’s a cautionary tale wrapped in a fun adventure about a girl and her talking cat. Most movies would hit you over the head with the message. This one just lets you breathe in the smog until you’re as desperate for fresh air as the characters are.
Production and Reception
The movie was a labor of love. It took years to get the funding and the animation right. When it finally hit theaters, critics loved it. It holds a 96% on Rotten Tomatoes. People praised the world-building and the fact that it didn't treat the audience like they were stupid.
But it didn't make a billion dollars. It’s a "cult classic" in the truest sense. It’s the kind of movie you find on a streaming service on a rainy Tuesday and then spend the next three days telling all your friends they have to watch it. It won the Cristal Award for best feature at the Annecy International Animated Film Festival, which is basically the Oscars of the animation world. If you care about the medium, this is essential viewing.
What Most People Get Wrong About This Movie
A lot of people dismiss it as "just for kids" because it’s animated. That’s a mistake. While it’s appropriate for older children, the themes of war, scientific ethics, and environmental collapse are heavy. There’s a level of political cynicism in the film that you just don't see in American animation.
Another misconception is that it’s a "dystopian" movie. Not really. Dystopias usually involve a total collapse of society. In April’s world, society is functioning perfectly fine—it’s just functioning in a miserable, stagnant way. It’s a "stagnation-topis." Everyone is just used to the fact that the sky is grey and everything smells like burnt coal. That’s actually scarier than a post-apocalypse. It’s the "boiling frog" version of the end of the world.
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Essential Viewing Tips
If you’re going to watch it, try to find the original French version with subtitles. Marion Cotillard brings a certain weight to April that is hard to replicate. The English dub is actually quite good—it features Paul Giamatti and J.K. Simmons—but the rhythm of the dialogue was written for French. The jokes land better. The slang feels more natural.
Also, pay attention to the backgrounds. Every frame is packed with detail. Look at the posters on the walls, the weird mechanical gadgets in the background, and the way the city of Paris has been restructured with massive metal bridges and elevators. It’s a masterclass in environmental storytelling.
How to Apply the Lessons of April’s World
We aren't living in a world of giant coal-powered cable cars (thankfully), but the core tensions of the movie are everywhere. We’re currently navigating our own "energy transition," and the fear of being "stuck" in an old way of doing things is very real.
- Look for "Dirty" Steampunk: If you liked the vibe of this movie, check out the Steamboy anime or the BioShock games. They share that same obsession with the weight and danger of machinery.
- Explore Jacques Tardi’s Work: Go to a comic book shop and look for The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec. It’s the spiritual predecessor to this film and shares the same gritty, historical-fantasy DNA.
- Support Independent Animation: Movies like this only get made if people watch them. Check out distributors like GKIDS—they are the ones who brought April to North America and they have a massive catalog of similar "high-concept" animated films.
- Think About the "Sunk Cost" of Tech: One of the biggest takeaways from the film is how the characters were so invested in coal that they couldn't see any other way forward. Ask yourself where we might be doing that in our own lives or businesses—clinging to an old "coal" because we're afraid of the "electricity" of the future.
The movie ends on a note that is both hopeful and incredibly sobering. It reminds us that while science can save us, it can also be used to build walls—or rockets—to hide from the problems we created. It’s a beautiful, strange, and deeply moving piece of cinema.
Go watch it. Find the biggest screen you can. And maybe keep a window open for some fresh air while you do.