Meet Marjane, our feisty young heroine coming to terms with the inevitable teenage complications of boys, boobs and betrayal, but with a turmoil-laden backdrop of radicalism, revolution and war thrown in the mix, just to keep things interesting. Indeed, our young protagonist’s coming of age is blighted by the political upheaval that, rather inconsiderately, decides to unleash itself in Iran, right in the middle of her wonder years, like a hive of angry bees being kicked back and forth across an otherwise pleasant picnic blanket of childhood.

Marjane is quick to establish herself as a decidedly precocious child: lots of running around, Jackie Chan style, and asking questions about the differing stances of the adults around her (liberal parents, conservative teachers, repressive regime and the like). She grows up into a similarly noisy presence in her family home; Jackie Chan being replaced with the likes of Iron Maiden. As one would expect from the offspring of lefty parents, she does not approve of the present regime’s oppressive treatment of women.

Marjane has the seeds of rebellion within her, and does not plan to leave them dormant. Frequent brushes with humourless authority figures convince everyone who care for Marjane that it might be best if she were relocated to the more accepting and bohemian trappings of Vienna, where a relative has agreed to take in the spirited teen.

We follow our heroine as she navigates through a colourful succession of misadventures, as she struggles to come to terms with her conflicted feelings of identity. The shame and misunderstanding that accompany her heritage make the usual rocky terrain of adolescence ever more treacherous. Fortunately, her outspoken and rather brave qualities usually shine through; and when they don’t, her fantastically sage and savvy grandmother (regardless of proximity) can be trusted to swoop in with firm-yet-loving words.

Paronnaud’s rendering of Satrapi’s graphic novel fills the humble viewer with a shiver of glee, purely because, visually at least, it is such a joy to behold. This is a film that simply had to be animated, not only because it is maintaining the style and mood of the source material, but mainly for the fact that it enables the entire story to be imbued with Marjane’s vibrant personality. It takes subjectivity firmly by the metaphorical horns and manoeuvres it in such a way as to ensure that you, dear viewer, are right in the centre of our protagonist’s oft woeful and consistently bump-ridden life. Despite its various misfortunes, Marjane’s tale is filled with an abundance of humour and warmth.

Although allegedly ‘softened’ in the translation to celluloid, Persepolis is not without its sharp edges. Regardless of what may or may not have been lost, the film is thoroughly absorbing, thought-provoking and moving, without ever feeling sappy or patronising. I defy you not to find a glut of wonders in this delightfully told (albeit quite sad) tale of a girl trying to reconcile her personal identity with her repressive roots.