Science fiction stories depict future events, yet they comment on the present. The sciences we associate with science fiction are physics, biology, and so on – the “hard sciences” – but the stories are often more concerned with the softer social sciences. Think of Avatar, or The Matrix, or Mad Max, or almost any science fiction story. Under the future veneer, they’re really dealing with present-day issues.
But what about the past? How can science fiction comment on history? One popular way is the sub-genre of alternate history, also known as “what if?” stories. What if Lincoln hadn’t died? What if the Japanese hadn’t bombed Pearl Harbor, and the U.S. had never joined World War II, and the Axis powers had won? This simple question provides a compelling launch for reflection on history.
So, what if Napoleon hadn’t died in exiled defeat but had succeeded and founded a powerful, military dynasty? April and the Extraordinary World begins from this premise, but it quickly fast-forwards to the 20th century. This “extraordinary world” is one where nearly every scientist has disappeared, taken by a mysterious, lightning-spouting cloud. April is a young, Parisian woman whose parents were taken, and she’s trying to complete their clandestine quest to create a super-serum which will render any drinker invincible. This has obvious military applications, so the Napoleonic government and the kidnapping cloud are after her too.
Earlier versions of the serum have failed the invincibility goal, but they have made animal test subjects super-intelligent, able to speak. So April has a talking cat for a sidekick. The other major differences in this version of history have to do with energy sources. It’s never explained, but this world hasn’t discovered electricity, so it ran on coal. When the coal ran out, they used wood. Now the forests of Europe are all decimated, and the lone remaining tree in Paris has a grand arboretum built around it. The sky is always dark with smog. Huge cable cars carry passengers as far as Berlin, and dirigibles fill the cloudy sky – a staple of alternate history.
April is alone in this extraordinary world, besides the cat. Her chemistry work is also, somehow, a search for her family. They disappeared in an uncanny accident that had something to do with their serum, so maybe if she completes their work she’ll be reunited with them. Her situation mirrors that of her world, subtly. Burning all the trees and resources, the whole world has lost touch with the past, and they’re trusting science in blind hope that discovery will save them.
April and the Extraordinary World is an animated film, as you can see from these accompanying stills. It’s not a slick production with high energy and slapstick hijinks like most American cartoons – as much as it plays with the possibilities of chemistry, it obeys the laws of physics. In many ways, it looks and feels like an older cartoon, with hand-drawn animation and a leisurely pace. The style also looks like the Japanese anime of Hayao Miyazaki, like Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke, but April and the Extraordinary World doesn’t have the child-like wonder and verve of Miyazaki. While most animated films stretch beyond reality, this one just presents an alternate one.
Lovers of Paris will enjoy April’s extraordinary world, as well as fans of alternate history. Many reviews are selling it to fans of steampunk, but I disagree. Steampunk is the sub-sub-genre of alternate history where steam technology rules the day and punk-spirited inventors must figure out how to build a better future. Those steam-tinkers were like proto-hackers; steampunk grew out of cyberpunk. With its story of reuniting the family through chemistry, April and the Extraordinary World has the steam – smoke, actually – but not the punk.