Her greatest foe is a monstrous greengrocer. When things aren’t going as planned, Amélie is there to give you some solace. Above all, its quirks stem from a deep-seated desire to love and be loved, which gives the game a comforting, cozy vibe unlike any other. All of these elements come together to create an unforgettable experience. What makes Amélie special is its candy-colored style, Tautou’s childlike wonder and intangible likeability as an actress, its twee quest and mystery, magic realism sprinkles and postmodernism, as well as Yann Tiersen’s mesmerizing score. For the sake of her career, Tautou did not want to be typecast in roles as scheming women (Priceless), plucky immigrants (Dirty Pretty Things), or as a Sexy Lamp for Tom Hanks to talk to in mindless Hollywood fare (The Da Vinci Code). It’s impossible to ignore the fact that Jeunet’s post-2001 output pales in comparison to his exuberant, life-affirming magnum opus. Jeunet’s previous films (Delicatessen, The City of Lost Children, and Alien: Resurrection) all dealt with darker themes and, while they are all great films, they are not as approachable or lighthearted as Amélie. Unfortunately, because of Amélie’s uniqueness, there are no films that can be compared. Audrey Tautou, the actress who brings this iconic creation to life, enjoys cracking the top of a brûlée with a spoon, skimming stones, and granting holidays to inanimate objects. The story of a young French girl who represents karma and deals out just punishment to evildoers, as well as childhood memories to the good, is simple, but captivating. Films like Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amélie: The Fantastic Journey of Amélie Poulain (or Amélie in the English-speaking world) are rare.