Presented in the Generation Kplus section of Berlinale 2025, Kid Koala’s Space Cadet is a visual and musical tale, entirely silent, exploring the bond between a young astronaut and her benevolent robot.
In our interview, Kid Koala talks about the adaptation of his graphic novel, his hand-crafted approach to animation and the emotion generated by his film. A poetic and universal journey that promises to touch all generations.
Cinema Reporters: My first question concerns the title of your film. Why did you choose Space Cadet?
Kid Koala: The title comes from my second graphic novel, Space Cadet. I chose it because, first of all, an important part of the story takes place in space. The main character, Céleste, is an astronaut who travels in the cosmos. But beyond that, his guardian, a robot that serves as his parental figure, remains on Earth and begins to malfunction. His memory deteriorates, leaving him disoriented. In a way, the two characters are space cadets: one explores outer space, the other is lost in his own mental space.
As a musician in the 2000s, notably with the Ninja Tune label, were you already thinking about writing a graphic novel at the time?
Yes, I was. My first graphic novel, Neuphonia Must Fall, came out around that time. It tells the story of a robot who tries to write love songs even though he can’t sing. He has to find another way to create music that sounds like a love song. It was my first experience of a long-form comic story, and I enjoyed it so much that I started writing Space Cadet just after the Neuphonia tour ended.
How did you come up with the idea for Space Cadet?
It was really a way for me to deal with what was going on in my life at the time. I’d just lost my grandmother, who was very dear to me, as well as other close family members. This period allowed me to recall precious moments spent with my loved ones. At the same time, I was about to become a father for the first time. This contrast – losing family members while anticipating the arrival of my daughter – got me thinking about the generational cycle. I could see the past clearly, but the future was still unknown, albeit exciting. Writing the book became a way of dealing with all these emotions, and eventually turned into a celebration of my most precious memories.
At what point did you decide that the book would become a film?
It wasn’t my original idea. The book and accompanying soundtrack were published first, and as the book has no dialogue, it already had the feel of a silent film script that hadn’t yet been made. After the book tour, I considered the project finished. But at one of the shows, Jeanette Petit and Natalie Bissonette from Outsiders Films were present. They discovered the characters, bought the book and heard the music. They were the ones who suggested expanding the graphic novel into a feature film. At first, I wasn’t sure – I come from the music world, where budgets are much lower than in film. But when they approached me with the idea, I said, “Okay, if you really think it can work….”. I signed the option rights to develop the project, and they spent several years finding funding and a scriptwriter to develop the story. That’s how Mylène Chollet came along, and she wrote a very fine screenplay.
Let’s talk about the film’s style. You said that the music existed before the film. Can you describe the gentle tone of the story and the music?
Yes. The original book had 15 tracks to accompany certain scenes, but not enough for a full-length feature. Some of these tracks were retained in the final score, while many new ones were composed. I also collaborated with several singers to contribute to the soundtrack. The relationship between Robot and Celeste is one of care and support, so I often started with piano melodies, adding layers of turntables or strings as needed. My friend Vid Cousins helped me orchestrate additional elements such as brass and strings to enhance certain moments. I have a very personal connection with this music. I remember composing one of the tracks for the original book while holding my daughter Maple in my arms as a baby. I played a gentle lullaby on the piano with one hand while holding her with the other, and recorded it just like that. These emotions are deeply linked to the project, and when I composed new music for the film, I tried to reconnect with this feeling.
Would you say your film has an optimistic or utopian vision?
For me, creating the original book was a way of celebrating my grandmother’s life rather than mourning her loss. I wanted to keep that spirit in the film. I didn’t want it to be dark, I wanted it to make people smile and maybe even reflect on their own childhoods and formative experiences. That’s why we paid so much attention to the rhythm, the music and even the visual design. We wanted to create a space within the film, a space for the audience to breathe, reflect and connect with their own memories rather than being overwhelmed by constant information. A film without dialogue is also more of a puzzle for the audience. With no words to guide them, viewers have to interpret the characters’ emotions for themselves. To do this, they can instinctively draw on their own childhood memories and personal experiences. I wanted to create something that would evoke these emotions in a subtle but meaningful way.
Did you have any animation references in mind when you designed the robot in the graphic novel? Had you seen films like Mon Ami Robot or Le Robot Sauvage, which also explore similar themes?
When we started planning the animation, we first tested a 2D drawing board style similar to that used in the original graphic novel. However, we found it too visually distracting: the constant movement of the hatched lines created a “bubbling” effect, making the image very contrasty. That’s why, when we decided to switch to CG animation, we wanted to retain the handmade aspect of the work. Our art director, Corinne Merrill, who worked on The Little Prince and created the stop-motion paper elements, was instrumental in achieving this aesthetic. She also designs miniature sets for our theatrical productions with puppets. We approached the animation with the idea of keeping it visually organic, even though it’s CGI. I also wanted to retain the minimalism of the original graphic novel. In the book, for example, I had drawn the robot sitting on a chair in an almost empty room, with perhaps one or two pieces of furniture in the background. I deliberately avoided cluttering the environment with unnecessary details. We kept the same simplicity in the film’s composition to ensure an immersive, focused experience.
The film has a very gentle tone, but it also tackles deeper themes such as loneliness and grief, which are at the heart of the story. Is the idea of robots replacing humans a positive one, or is it a critique of modern society?
We do design robots, but my point of view depends on the intention behind the creation. When I’m interested in art, whether it’s a painting or a piece of music, I try to understand the inspiration behind it. If I can identify with it, the medium or style becomes secondary. Technology can be seen in two ways: as a threat that automates everything and eliminates human purpose, or as a tool that opens up new possibilities. Take the example of a piano: it’s a technological creation, painstakingly crafted through craftsmanship and science. Yet the musician’s role is to bring it to life, to use this technology to tell a story. The same principle applies to robots. Rather than seeing them as mere replacements, I focus on the human effort and ingenuity that went into creating them. I prefer an optimistic perspective. When I see advances like autonomous cars, I don’t think the goal is to eliminate driving altogether, but rather to explore the challenge: is it even possible? It’s this curiosity and ambition that inspires me. As a DJ, I’ve always loved technology – mixers, sound effects, turntables – but at the same time, I appreciate the physical side of playing records and manipulating sound by hand. It’s all about striking a balance between the digital and the tactile.
What was the greatest challenge in adapting your graphic novel into an animated film?
The greatest challenge was to remain faithful to the tone of the original work while meeting the technical demands of filmmaking. As this was my first time directing a film, I had to learn a completely new language, both creatively and technically. For example, at first, I wasn’t familiar with terms like gamma in lighting or how images translate into time. When I discussed rhythm with the animators, I’d say, for example, “Wait three beats, then on the fourth beat, this action has to happen”. But they needed precise instructions in terms of images, not musical rhythms. So I had to learn to convert my sense of rhythm into a number of images. The same thing happened with camera movements. I didn’t know what an orbit plane was, nor what the difference was between tracking and keying. On the first day, I had to learn a new vocabulary. Fortunately, the team was incredibly patient, guiding me through the technical aspects and helping me communicate my vision with the right terms. Once I found this common language, collaboration became much smoother.
Would you say that working with a large animation team is similar to your experience of collaborating with musicians like Radiohead, Gorillaz, Beastie Boys or DJ Shadow? You’re used to working as part of a team.
Yes, we are. I’ve been lucky enough to be invited on these tours and to witness large-scale productions in real time. On tour, everything happens according to a precise schedule: if the show starts at 8 p.m., the stage set-up begins at noon, and you can see the whole process unfold step by step. In animation, I was surprised at how different the workflow is. There’s a structured production chain, with different departments working at different stages, often months apart. For example, you have to make crucial decisions about camera movements with the layout team before the final images even exist. You may be working with a simple wireframe or gray rectangle representing a prop, without knowing exactly what the final depth or composition will look like. As an illustrator, I’m used to deciding on angle, character pose and lighting all at once. But in animation, these elements are developed at separate stages, and once one department moves on to another project, there’s no going back and changing things. It was a completely new process for me. I had to learn to anticipate and trust the pipeline, while making adjustments along the way to ensure the emotional impact of each scene.
On a more personal note, when you wrote the graphic novel, you had just become a father. Your child has grown up since then. Has she seen the film?
She saw a first cut about a month ago – not the final version, but almost. She was very moved by the film. She laughed at times, and at others, she was emotionally touched. She’s a very empathetic child, so I think she felt concerned by the story’s themes. I don’t know if she told me she liked it just to be nice because I’m her dad (laughs), but I could see she was engaged. At the end, she was really surprised by some of the plot twists. More importantly, I think the film touched her on an emotional level, which means a lot to me.
Your film is presented in the Generation Plus section. Do you see it as a film for a specific audience, or as a film for a wider, global audience?
For me, it’s like coming full circle. Even before I got into music, one of my fondest childhood memories was watching a Charlie Chaplin film with my grandmother and mother. It was one of the rare occasions when all three generations of my family sat down together and enjoyed the same work of art. The experience left an indelible impression on me and inspired me to create something that could bring different generations together. Today, that’s where we are. My dream scenario for this film is for people to watch it as a family, whether it’s their parents, children or grandparents. I was very touched when a journalist said to me: “I can’t wait for the film to be released because I want to take my niece, my nephew and my grandmother to see it”. That’s exactly the kind of connection I was hoping for. As far as global audiences are concerned, it’s entirely possible. There’s no dialogue in the film, so the story is told entirely through action, images and music. This makes it universally accessible: people can experience and interpret it without language barriers.
Was making a silent film a constraint for you, or did it give you greater creative freedom?
Certainly more freedom. My two graphic novels are also dialogue-free, so telling a story visually and through synchronization is something I’ve been exploring for years. I’ve also worked on live theater productions, such as Neufonia Must Fall Live and The Storyville Mosquito Live, where we play everything – puppets, miniature sets, live music, sound effects – in one continuous take. These shows involve several cameras, dozens of models and a team of 15 artists, but there’s no spoken dialogue. For me, working in a silent format is not a constraint, it’s an exciting challenge. It forces you to consider narrative in a different way, relying on movement, expression and sound design to convey emotions.
Has the film already been screened here? What was the audience reaction?
Yes, and I was absolutely delighted. Hearing the laughter of the audience at certain moments, then the complete silence – followed by sniffles – during emotional scenes was of great importance to me. It showed that people cared about the story. There was a real sense of concentration in the room, and when the spontaneous laughter came, it was incredibly gratifying. That’s why we make films: to share an experience with an audience, to create those moments of genuine reaction and connection.
Finally, does the film already have a distributor?
Not yet, no. It’s actually the first time we’ve entered into discussions about international distribution. We already have a Canadian distributor, but nothing has yet been confirmed for Europe. We hope to have that sorted out soon – maybe even here!
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