Memoir of a Snail (2024) Review: Clay, Grief and Grace

Is Memoir of a Snail worth watching?

Yes. Memoir of a Snail is a small masterpiece of stop-motion animation, a story of loneliness and loss told with so much wit and tenderness that it never becomes merely sad. Adam Elliot’s handmade clay world is full of grubby, lovingly observed detail, and Sarah Snook’s narration gives the film a voice that is both wounded and wry. The only caution is its tone: it piles hardship on its heroine, and its dark humour will not suit viewers expecting animation to be gentle.

What is Memoir of a Snail about?

Memoir of a Snail is narrated by Grace Pudel (Sarah Snook), a shy, snail-collecting woman looking back on her life. As a child in Australia, Grace’s closest companion was her twin brother, Gilbert (Kodi Smit-McPhee). When family tragedy strikes, the twins are separated and sent to foster homes on opposite sides of the country. Grace, lonely and bullied, begins to retreat into collecting, surrounding herself with snails and objects for comfort, while writing letters to the brother she misses. An eccentric older woman (Jacki Weaver) becomes an unlikely source of friendship.

Elliot writes and directs this Australian stop-motion film in English, with Eric Bana among the supporting voices. It runs 94 minutes, won the top feature prize at the Annecy animation festival in 2024, and was nominated for the Academy Award for best animated feature.

A world shaped by hand

Every frame of Memoir of a Snail shows its making. Elliot’s clay figures have lumpy faces, wide sad eyes and visible thumbprints, and the settings, cluttered houses, drab suburbs and dim bedrooms, are built in a palette of browns, greys and faded greens. It is deliberately unglamorous, and that is the point: the film’s look embraces imperfection, which is exactly what its heroine is learning to do.

The detail is astonishing. Shelves groan with tiny objects, and background jokes hide in signs, labels and props. The animation, with its slow, deliberate movement, gives even small gestures a sense of weight and care that suits a story about someone who clings to things.

Tragedy with a comic edge

Elliot, whose earlier Mary and Max shared this blend of melancholy and wit, has a rare talent for finding comedy in misery. Grace’s life is a catalogue of losses, unsuitable guardians, illness and isolation, but the narration is full of absurd asides, mordant observations and lovingly odd characters. The laughter never undercuts the pain; it makes it bearable, and it makes Grace feel like a real person rather than a victim.

Sarah Snook’s voice work is the emotional anchor. She narrates with a soft, tired warmth, delivering jokes and heartbreak in the same steady tone, and the film’s intimacy depends on her. Jacki Weaver is a joy as Grace’s irrepressible friend, bringing a burst of colour and mischief into a grey world, and Kodi Smit-McPhee gives Gilbert a gentleness that makes the twins’ separation ache.

Where the misery can overwhelm

The film’s willingness to go dark is a strength, but it can also feel relentless. Misfortunes accumulate at a rate that occasionally tips toward the grotesque, and some of the villains, particularly Gilbert’s foster family, are broad caricatures. Viewers sensitive to depictions of grief, abuse and mental illness may find parts of it hard going, and its humour is far more adult than the medium might suggest.

Who should watch Memoir of a Snail?

It is essential for fans of adult animation, stop-motion craft and bittersweet storytelling, and a must for anyone who loved Mary and Max. It is not a children’s film: it deals with death, depression, hoarding, sexuality and cruelty, with dark jokes throughout. At 94 minutes, it is a compact but emotionally full experience.

For more animated films with an outsider’s heart:

• Lesbian Space Princess, another Australian animated film for adults, much sillier but equally fond of misfits.
• Jumbo, a family-friendly story about a lonely child finding connection, a gentler companion piece.

More in our animation section.

The verdict

Memoir of a Snail is a painstaking, humane and often very funny film about loss, loneliness and learning to let go of what we hold on to. Its darkness is sometimes overwhelming, but its craft, its warmth and Sarah Snook’s beautiful narration make it one of the finest animated films of its year.

Rating: 4.5/5