Jumbo’s a Nuanced Romance about Theme Park Attraction to a Theme Park Attraction

Films like Lars and the Real Girl and Her have familiarized audiences with the “man falls in love with inanimate object” storyline (using a mannequin and an AI voiced by Scarlett Johansson, respectively). But Jumbo, Zoe Wittock’s directorial debut, refreshingly adds a woman—an amusement park worker who develops a romantic and erotic relationship with Jumbo, the newest ride at the park—to the mix. Wittock’s writing and direction effectively communicate how metaphorically appropriate the proverbial amusement park is when exploring the thrill, the valleys and peaks, the whirlwind of desire. While the audacity of Jumbo’s premise is certainly a draw, it also forces audiences to recalibrate their perception of what a romance looks like in a way that is effectively disorienting—but disorienting nonetheless. The film nestles itself between shock and earned awe.

Before the romance in Jumbo reaches its apex, the audience is first introduced to Jeanne (Noémie Merlant), a pensive young woman with Joan of Arc bangs and an affinity for amusement park rides. Wittock strikes an excellent balance between characterizing Jeanne, familiarizing the audience with her individuality and using her complexity to ground the attraction that she ultimately cultivates to Jumbo. Throughout the film, Jeanne crafts small-scale, scrap metal replicas of the rides at the park. She also lives with her mother Margarette (Emmanuelle Bercot), a volcanic, playful figure who calls Jeanne “sugarpuss” and loves her, but cannot always see her. Together they talk about life and romance, listening to the ‘80s American rock that’s synths and heavy guitar define the soundscape of the film.

Jeanne spends her time at work curbing the quasi-creepy advances of her boss, Marc (Bastien Bouillon), and basking in the wonder of the rides. While at work, Jeanne is often bathed in the green glow of carnival lights and a bevy of alternating blues and reds—all of which conjure a familiar amusement park atmosphere. She literally lights up when in the presence of rides. On the surface, Jeanne moves through the world with this curiosity and kindness towards the people who love her. But there’s a level of restraint as well, a repression bubbling beneath the surface that waits to burst through. There’s a tinge of inexperience that colors her character, not quite a naivete but a newness and an unfamiliarity with physical and emotional nakedness. The pressure that builds within Jeanne is mirrored in the environment around her as she and her mother drive past roaring waterfalls or when Jeanne witnesses the borderline orgasmic squeals of carousel riders.

When Jeanne nearly falls off of Jumbo during an evening maintenance check, Jumbo levels himself to the ground ensuring Jeanne’s safety. From there, a courtship begins. Jumbo communicates to Jeanne through the colors of his iridescent light bulbs. His emotions are further displayed through the pooling of oily lubricant, which can sputter like tears or drip like precum.