Michel Ocelot's suite of animated fancies is like a child's diorama transferred to the screen.
Its framing device is a sweet but unlikely collaboration between a girl, a boy and an elderly technician in an abandoned cinema: between them, they conjure tales of werewolves and sorcerers, monarchs and monsters, stable boys and sweethearts.
The English voicework is possibly a rush-job, and feebly done, but not a deal-breaker. It's a magic-realist pick'n'mix, uniformly shot as black silhouettes against bright colour, and will enchant younger audiences.
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