Four years ago, in a cramped apartment on Henry Street in Brooklyn, writer/director Dean Fleischer-Camp and actress/comedian Jenny Slate changed the internet a little bit. They created "Marcel The Shell with Shoes On," a three minute video about a talking shell named Marcel. They first screened the short to twenty people at an art show. Everyone asked to see it again so Dean and Jenny shared it online. Within days, millions of people had seen Marcel, and the world had a rosier hue.

To date, Marcel the Shell's three award-winning shorts have been watched thirty-five million times. His two beloved children's books have made the New York Times Bestsellers list. Conan O'Brien, David Letterman, and Ellen have celebrated him on their programs. Jenny and Dean have been sent numerous photos of Marcel tattoos elegantly inked onto the biceps of hipsters everywhere. By now, whatever corner you come from, Marcel is a sensation.

Marcel is certainly tiny (about the size of a nickel) and his world is one of outsized thrills (he hang glides on a Dorito), but he is so much more than adorable. He is a well-rounded individual — thoughtful, wise, and self-possessed, with a coruscating wit and a true appreciation for the world's natural beauty. He runs deep. His outer appearance belies a profound humanity, and he is loved by millions because he loves himself.

But Marcel has a hole in his life. Aside from his aging grandmother Nana Connie, he lives alone, having been separated from the rest of his friends and family after they were accidentally carried off in a man's suitcase. Or at least, that's what Marcel confides in "D," the novice filmmaker who finds himself staying in an apartment inhabited by Marcel, way back before any of us have even heard of this talking shell.

With unprecedented access and culled from hundreds of hours of "documentary" footage, the MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON feature is D's charming and hilarious portrait of the world's most beloved, young-yet-ageless mollusk. The film follows Marcel's rise from "a" shell to "The" shell and, most importantly, his quest to reunite with treasured friends and family, for as Marcel laments, "I have an audience, but I don't have a community." The MARCEL THE SHELL movie is driven by Marcel's capacity to love, desire to connect, and eventually, the risks he takes in order to be happy.

But there's also that filmmaker D and his capacity to love. Or rather, his resistance to it. Any storyteller would salivate over the discovery of Marcel, and when D first stumbles upon him, he thinks what any budding documentarian would: I've just landed on the next Edie Beale! Like the peculiar sisters of the Maysles' Grey Gardens, or the manic Timothy Levitch of Bennet Miller's The Cruise, or Jennifer Vendetti's Billy The Kid, D knows he's landed on a truly unique character. He wants nothing more than to be a fly on the wall, to finally put all those hours of cinéma vérité studies to good use. But after a year of pointing his camera at Marcel, D can't help but admit defeat. Despite his best intentions, this is not a one-way street; Marcel and he have irreparably altered each other's lives. MARCEL is therefore not a filmmaker's strict account of his subject but rather the story of an accidental friendship in which two very different creatures learn from each other, challenge each other, and, ultimately, love each other.

At this point the brass tacks executive in you may be saying to yourself, "Wait a minute. I thought these kids were pitching "Indie Lego Movie." What is this stop-motion animated documentary about a talking shell's quest for Deep Connection and a person's path toward Humanity?"

Well, sir/ma'am, after spending time touring the country and talking with Marcel fans of all ages and stripes, we've learned that while people love his one-liners and adorable look, what they really feel that they own, what delights and breaks their hearts just a little, is Marcel's authenticity. We know this is the authentic, exciting, never-before-told story that over thirty-five million fans would like to watch. The truth remains: there is simply no one like Marcel. And while he's just as lovable as Nemo or Wall-E, or even Kermit the frog, Marcel is a more modern protagonist, born in a lovely little apartment and grown on the internet.

One thing MARCEL does have in common with those classic stories is that both the movie and the shell can be enjoyed by adults and children alike. The kids might not get everything, but they will in ten years when they watch MARCEL again, stoned in college, and then ten years after that with their kids. MARCEL is a movie that reveals secrets like "shrimps are the idiots of the sea." It reminds us to always eat the muffin crumbs offered by our elders. And it inspires us to turn the camera off and just enjoy the moment with people we love, at least every once in a while. The story of one lonely shell finding his clan, a tale of friendship and the value of family, MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON is a movie for people who like Good movies. And if they don't already have Good hearts, they will after they see it.

What follows is the story of and sample audio excerpts from D's unreleased documentary. To see the clips, you'll have to join us.

We open on a human apartment. It's a quiet afternoon, sunlight stretching across the floor. We observe MARCEL going about his day, entirely silent except the occasional grunt. He pushes a thing so he can get up on another thing, collects lint, opens a window with his head, straightens his bread with his Grandmother (NANA CONNIE). We see him do these everyday things, like an ethnographic documentary. It occasionally feels awkward or stilted, Marcel looking uncomfortable, now and again glancing directly at the lens. Finally, Marcel addresses documentarian D. "So...you're watching me just do this? But...what's it supposed to be?" Marcel's not really familiar with documentary filmmaking, so D explains the concept of a "fly on the wall." Marcel just doesn't get it and would prefer to offer a more formal introduction to himself and his world:

Once Marcel understand's D's approach, he decides to decline participating. "I don't wanna do the docky-u-mentary any more. You're hoping that I'll do things. And that's the hardest part. It's like when people tell you to just be yourself it's the hardest thing to do. It's a lot of pressure." Marcel just stares long and hard into D's camera, refusing to participate. Finally he taunts D, "So. How's your movie lookin' now?"

But D's persistent. He agrees to ask direct questions of Marcel, and we finally start to learn a little more about the creature inside the shell. D follows Marcel on his daily routines with Nana Connie silently tagging along. Marcel shows how he eats, where he gets food, where he sleeps, his breadroom, what the dangers are, (mice or spiders, for example). He shows us an abandoned Shell's house wrecked by the vacuum. ("Back when we had Robert," he explains, referring to a human houseguest they refer to the way people talk about hurricanes.)

Nana Connie invites D and Marcel over to her house. She lives in an old jewelry box with ballerinas painted on the outside. Her bed is a croissant. Marcel and Connie tell D about Marcel's grandfather, whose portrait hangs on the wall of her jewelry box. Marcel explains that Connie actually grew up by the hall ("that's why she has an accent") but travelled here by coat pocket, and that's where she met his grandfather. "She still sleeps on the left side of the bread," he explains with a touch of sadness.

Little by little, Marcel continues to open up to D, sharing more about his past and revealing a family history of tragedy. He shows a chair leg with family portraits carved into it, and we cut to loopy hand-drawn animations (like the doodles in the Marcel books) to animate the stories of his lineage:

Aside from Nana Connie, the whole Shell community was carried away in a suitcase. Standing in the bathroom amidst make-up and a curling iron, Marcel explains the mysterious separation. The couple in the apartment started to frequently have loud arguments at night. The shells couldn't get any sleep with all that racket, and they started to go and burrow into the sock drawer, which was warm and cozy, and muffled the sound of the arguments. But one night, the argument went on for much longer, and suddenly the husband dumped all of his clothes into the suitcase and stormed out for good. All of the Shells went with him, and they must be wherever he is now. Marcel and his grandmother were on a trip to the TV at the time, so they didn't "get moved." But what happened to the woman who lived here?:

Marcel and Nana Connie have dinner where she shares more stories about Marcel's family before he was born. The two sing a duet, but as the night wears on Connie seems to repeat herself several times, and it's clear Marcel is grappling with the aging of the only family he's got left. She's the only person who remembers anything about the others, and Marcel worries the time will soon come when he's truly living alone. There's a part of D that wishes he could help, but he's just not sure how, or if it's his place. All he can offer Marcel is a portrait of himself, something that will hopefully allow him see the beauty in his own special life. D decides he has enough footage for a short.

D thinks he has enough footage for a short. He packs up his things and tells Marcel it's time for him to go. He asks Marcel if he would be okay with this footage going on the internet so he can share it with friends who don't live nearby. Marcel doesn't really know what the internet is, doesn't really care, and doesn't think anything of it. Neither does D really. "Great," Marcel says. But softly. "Is it — is this goodbye?"

D returns to see Marcel again. Connie has Marcel and D over for brunch, (muffin crumbs), and we watch as Marcel ventures to the kitchen to retrieve them. It's a very strenuous, hours-long task. At one point, he asks D to help or lift him up onto a surface, but D remains resolute in not wanting to overstep his boundary as documentary observer. This drives Marcel crazy:

After lunch, D turns his laptop toward Marcel and Connie to show them his Marcel short and all the attention it's garnered online.

Marcel scans the YouTube comments:

As they read more comments together Marcel becomes upset that people think he's a girl because of his pink shoes. Cut to: Marcel wearing different colored shoes, or the same ones, but he's Sharpie'd over the pink part. And it's not just the shoes that are changing. Marcel starts acting differently. He's unnatural — talking in a deeper voice and being more presentational. There's a lot of "oops, let me start over." He also starts singing more, only now he's showboating. D finally calls him on it, and Marcel eventually explains he's really upset that everybody on the internet calls him cute:

In a fit of rebellion, Marcel makes brownie tracks all over the couch. He quickly apologizes, saying he regrets it and that he actually likes the couch. But it was a good example.

D's Marcel short has taken the internet by storm, and D gets a message that a news magazine show wants to come to the house to interview Marcel. D says Marcel should feel no pressure or obligation to do it. But Marcel wants to. He likes The News, and also, who knows, maybe his family ("the Moved Shells") will see it and know he's okay. Camera crew and hair and makeup arrive, and Marcel does a long interview in which he's egged on to do his "famous one liners." He feels a little stupid and weird doing it, but he doesn't want to say no. He asks to sing a song called "My Mother Got Lost in The Rug." It's an old standard that means a lot to him considering his parents deaths. It's sacred and solemn, on par with when Jews sing "Hatikvah" or Irishmen sing "Oh Danny Boy":

Time passes, and Marcel, Nana Connie, and D get together for a viewing party. Marcel even has a piece of popcorn. They're really excited, but the segment is terrible: a really short "puff piece" with one-liners, no substance, and a three-second clip of Marcel singing. The next day D and Marcel find a re-mix video on the internet of "My Mother Got Lost in the Rug." It's an annoying and insensitive "auto-tune the news"/EDM beat that stuns them both. Marcel is clearly irritated. D feels horrible. And a little bit responsible.

D tries to cheer Marcel up by showing him all the fan emails rolling in, but Marcel is taken aback. For all the emails and comments, there's not a word from the other shells. Marcel acknowledges he's disappointed, and that maybe he was too hopeful:

A few days later Marcel goes to Connie's house to check in, do some cleaning, and bring over a cotton ball. He announces "it's Marcel!" but when Connie finally arrives at the door she's all dressed up, wearing makeup, and having clearly rolled around in a grapefruit peel to get some perfume on. Marcel realizes Connie mistook him for his grandfather when he arrived because his grandfather's name was also Marcel. Marcel takes Connie to the movies (at the television), and they watch an old movie. During it there's a scene that makes Marcel think about aging and grandparents, the circle of life. We zoom in on him watching her while she watches television. Just a slow zoom-in, and we know what he's thinking...At the end of the movie the credits are rolling and Connie has fallen asleep. Marcel gently wakes her up. On the walk home he tells her the parts of the movie she missed.

One day D finds Marcel hiding in a slipper. For the past week kids have been peering into Marcel's windows, knocking loudly and making scary sounds. Marcel's afraid they're either cat burglars or psychopaths. D sees a few kids running away from the house and follows them to the backyard where he finds a drawing left in a pile of leaves. It's a crude (/adorable) crayon portrait of Marcel that reads in crooked handwriting "MARCEL WE LOVE YOU." Marcel is officially terrified of fame. Down in the dumps, Marcel sings a song by himself, to himself. He doesn't know the camera's on, but when he realizes he's just more sad than embarrassed. He laments his loneliness:

More time passes, and Nana Connie continues to deteriorate. One day she goes missing, and Marcel spends a day searching the apartment for her. When she finally appears, on the record player, it's clear she has no idea how or when she got there. D tries one last interview with her, but she seems confused and keeps accusing him of "trying to steal her gossip."

Marcel has summoned D to the apartment again to show D something he thinks he'll really want to see. He's effusively flattering, asking if D's been working out, and saying D's voice sounds like a human cello. Marcel packs up his bread room in a mad dash, taking everything off the walls, throwing out everything he doesn't need, and heaving tiny objects over the edge of the planter. He also helps Connie pack, which is frustrating because she wants to keep absolutely everything. She's got loose beads and lentils rolling around, tons of shell-type nicknacks. They put their stuff in Tootsie pop wrappers and tie one to each end of the Tootsie pop stick (like how people carry water on poles in developing countries).

D asks what's going on, and Marcel finally shares the news: he got a cryptic email he's certain is from the other Shells! D takes a look at the email, full of typos and repeated, garbled letters. (It looks something like: "378ghfkj jjjjjjjjjjjj WE liiiiveIN th garbage." Within the garbled letters, there is also a street address.) D warns it's complete nonsense. It could be anything, and frankly, it seems like a virus. But Marcel is hopeful, imploring D to "Think outside of the box!" He hops on the laptop to show D how difficult it is for a Shell to type correctly. How bad it is is how he knows it's from them! D tries to interview Marcel about the challenges that lay ahead. "What if it's a dead end? What if Connie's too old to make the journey?" But Marcel just keeps complimenting him. ("Have I ever expressed to you how great your skin is...?") D knows something's off. Why does Marcel keep buttering him up? The truth is, Marcel needs help:

D refuses to compromise his artistic integrity in order to help Marcel, but he is worried about Marcel and begs him not to risk the trip. It's a dead end. It's rough outside. And Marcel could really get hurt. But Marcel won't be deterred. Marcel says goodbye to his home, making a big, conspicuous show of how difficult it is to open the window and climb down to get outside. "I know what you're doing," D says. "Don't think I'm going to fall for that." But then Nana Connie falls three feet onto the ground! Marcel and Connie try to cross a street, Connie limping from her fall, and Marcel moving with great effort because of the heavy Tootsie pop stick. They take one step onto the street and a car whizzes by. They scream "Ahhhhh!" and from behind the tripod we hear D yell, "Ohmygod!" The camera falters. We see D's legs, and the camera abruptly cuts.

So much for artistic integrity. D caved: He, Marcel, and Connie are in a taxi. Marcel rides on the back dashboard-type thing, looking smug. Connie runs in place (like when a dog swims in water and you pull it out and its paws keep swimming). "You don't have to run with the car to make it go," Marcel says, "Nan. It goes on it's own." Connie stops, but slowly, afraid she's going to stop the car. Marcel looks queasy, and then suddenly barfs from motion sickness. He feels really bad, but it's the tiniest drop of throw up. "Oh my god! It's everywhere! I'm so embarrassed! I'm so sorry! There was no warning!" D flicks away the tiny green glob with his finger.

They arrive at a pair of knocked over trash cans outside the brownstone whose address they deciphered. Marcel climbs out of the garbage, defeated. They look over the letter again, and suddenly it hits D: Is it possible they didn't mean "Garbage" but "GARAGE?"

Inside the garage, Marcel and D find the suitcase that belonged to the Man who used to live in Marcel's apartment! There's a little bit of celebration, but still no sign of the other Shells. There are, however, two stacked pieces of bread. Marcel thinks they must have been here. He hates to say it, but there's a leaf blower nearby, and bunch of saws and hammers. As he puts it, "it seems like a dangerous neighborhood." Maybe they didn't stay, or maybe something even worse happened. Marcel is devastated. After really getting his hopes up, the Shells are nowhere to be found.

They're about to pack it in when suddenly, a gust of wind blows through the open garage door, causing a tarp to billow up. "Claire?!" Nana Connie says. D's camera swivels to reveal Nana Connie standing in front of the newly exposed shelf. We glimpse another old lady shell in the midst of trying to duck for cover. He swivels again to catch obscure movements of various little pairs of feet scattering and running for cover. Nana Connie starts to walk towards a cluster. D follows, but Marcel stops him. "I think maybe you should just stay there for a second while I see what's what. Nana! Nan?! Hold on!"

The tarp's back down, hanging just above the floor. Marcel stands in front of it, and behind him, under the tarp, are many shifting, nervous pairs of feet. "They don't want to come out. They're afraid of the camera," Marcel explains:

D covers his lens, but lucky for us, he leaves his microphone on. Over black (and eventually end credits) we hear the spirited snippets of Shells reuniting, of Marcel introducing D to his family and friends, and of life moving forward into the future.