A Town Called Panic

By the time Cowboy, Indian and Horse balance precariously in the middle of an ocean on a floating snowball that is steadily melting, which was flung there by a giant robotic penguin operated by snowball-happy mad scientists, it’s readily understood that “A Town Called Panic” is highly incomprehensible.

Or maybe it’s long before then, when the trio plummets miles toward the center of the Earth on a slab of rock playing a card game because the fall seems to be taking a bit longer than expected.

This delightful film about a town’s high-strung residents is a childish adventure with little plot and a lot of insane fun. “A Town Called Panic” is based on a popular Belgian television show by Stéphane Aubier and Vincent Patar that uses a style of stop-motion animation with plastic toys.

The story begins when Cowboy and Indian try to make their roommate, Horse, a barbeque as a last-minute gift for his birthday, but instead, end up destroying his house. Horse, the only level-headed one in this trio, forces Cowboy and Indian to help rebuild the house, but the walls they construct are stolen every night.

A chase ensues to catch the mysterious, bat-like thieves. Their journey takes them to through lava, ice and water, and no matter where they are, there is always a reason to panic.

All the while, Horse longs to be with Madame Longray, a mare who teaches music and has caught the eye of Horse. The other residents of Panic, such as the farmer, Steven, and his wife, Jeanine, notice the three missing and (unsurprisingly) panic. The town bands together against the thieves with an army of farm animals complete with parachuting cows.

“A Town Called Panic” resembles the slapstick styles of The Three Stooges and the Marx Brothers, but at a considerably more frantic pace. The movie is packed with ridiculous and downright nonsensical gags that work because of the inherent zaniness of the characters and their environment. The characters never expect a normal day in Panic, and you shouldn’t either.
Many of the things in the town are “people-sized,” such as a hair-dryer three times the size of Cowboy or a dining-table sized slice of toast that Steven devours for breakfast. It is as if Panic were a play set that a child mixed together with things around his room that are far too large for his toys.

Bold colors and textures that are a delicious sample platter for the eyes fill the town, making each scene as much a joy to look at as it is funny. Everything from how the toys hop around the vibrant landscapes to their squeaky, rapid ramblings in French is carefree and fun. The animators succeed in visually conveying all the reactions and emotions from the characters even though the plastic faces never move. The entire story and every characterization can be understood without one glance at the subtitles. Like a silent Buster Keaton films, this movie needs no dialogue to be funny, but what is there makes the experience that much better.

This surprising treasure of a film is a welcomed escape into hysterical absurdity that proves a little—or a lot—of crazy, can be very good for the nerves.