Release Date – 14th February 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 34 minutes, Director – Adam Elliot
Grace (Sarah Snook) reflects on her life of separation and tragedy, and the people who have offered hope and kindness.
Adam Elliot cares about people. His films have consistently extended a hand of caring understanding to those who feel isolated, lost and uncertain as to their place in the world; whether they have one or fit in. He acknowledges that the world can be an unkind place, particularly to those who find them distanced from the rest of it, but reminds us that there are always signs of kindness within it.
These are addressed up front in his first feature since 2009’s marvellous Mary And Max. Memoir Of A Snail sees young woman Grace Pudel (Sarah Snook) recounting the events of her life to a snail in the back garden of the home which she shared with recently-passed elderly friend Pinky (Jacki Weaver). Throughout a life of separation and tragedy there have always been people, such as outgoing and gloriously carefree Pinky or her twin brother Gilbert (Kodi Smit-McPhee) who writes her regular letters after the pair are separated as kids, who show glimmers of kindness in the world.
This is a film of real sadness. Yet, through its open honesty there’s room for an effective sense of humour to both lighten and add to the emotional beats. The look of the stop-motion, consistent with Elliot’s previous work, feels like it’s from a cartoon or children’s drawing, pushing the innocence of the central character when depicted as a child (voiced by Charlotte Belsey) and maintaining the reflection of the world while allowing for some of the sillier moments of humour – Gilbert is sent to live with an extremely devout Christian family who abuse him, one scene relating to this is extremely hard to watch, where the sons are humorously called Wayne, Dwayne, Shayne and Ben, while Pinky apparently used to work at a sausage and strip club called ‘Shnitz ‘N’ Tits’.

The connection with the film is almost instant. Very early on we see Grace being bullied at school, she huddles herself into as tight a ball as possible, tearing up and shaking. Around her an imaginary snail shell forms as a protective shield, later developed into an increasingly shabby, brown woollen hat with homemade eyeballs protruding from the top like a snail. The treatment of the scene and simple visual look of just a few seconds landed a very early knock-out punch. So many moments have a subtle quietness to them which brings a strong emotional effect. Simple images and moments which further connect you to the main character and make the joys feel all the more joyous and the upsets strike a strong emotional chord. Much of this comes down to Elliot’s beautifully written screenplay, treated with the same heart that the finished film emits, establishing its characters very early on to allow for the emotional core to be explored the more we learn about Grace’s life.
Often in the rush of a film festival my schedule will have three or four films noted in for one day. It does mean that sometimes when you just want to go and sit in a dark room and think about the film you’ve just seen, as was the case for me with The Whale back in 2022’s LFF, you start queuing for, or just move on to, the next film. Memoir Of A Snail forced me to take a step aside for the rest of the day; cancelling the other films I had that day for the need to digest the film and simply enjoy thinking over it more as it settled in further.
Its emotion comes from its human understanding. Both the upset which Grace experiences, and the moments where life’s uplifts and happiness are allowed to flourish, and sometimes linger in the form of hope. All excellently captured, visually and thematically, in believable characters who themselves create a sense of hope in the world. There’s an emotional weight on leaving the film, there’s certainly a number over the course of the short, breezy run-time, but there’s a sense of uplift and joy, too – as, again, there is throughout with the many laugh-out-loud moments. Much like in Grace’s life, they show the lighter moments of happiness, where characters embrace themselves and what they love, which help to keep things going and not falling under the weight of the finely tuned emotion on display. All because, like those who support her, Adam Elliot cares about his characters and those who may feel like them.
A fantastically human depiction of feeling separated and distanced from the rest of the world, Memoir Of A Snail is a tender and caring film that masters both the strong emotional punches and the equally touching uplift and joy.