Authors: David Bordwell,Kristin Thompson
B0041VYHGW EBOK (160 page)
The mountain footage creates planes in depth: fields and buildings in the middle ground pass by, while the distant mountain remains in the same spot. At times colors or abstract shapes appear for a frame or two, and we are likely to perceive them as being in the extreme foreground, near the train and thus visible only as a blurred flash. Yet, even though the mountain remains in the same spot, its simple black outline frequently shifts slightly, and the color changes constantly, making the sky now red, now blue. The smooth sense of motion that rotoscoped footage could create is undermined, and the stable mountain actually shimmers constantly. In this way, Breer simultaneously suggests realistic depth and flat, abstract shapes in the images.
“What attracted me to the footage was the mountain in the background and the possibility for motion perspective in the foreground. The film plays with deep space and the picture plane on the screen.”
— Robert Breer, animator
To underline this contrast between conventional animation and the abstract techniques of
Fuji,
Breer includes one ordinary rotoscoped motion
(
10.112
).
This paper cup shape, drawn with the simplest of perspective cues, is the only object in the film to move so smoothly. We also, however, see the cup changing color or superimposed over the more abstract, flickering images of the mountain. At other times, the cup shape is seen as just a flat blob of color. Indeed, the rounded keystone shapes near the beginning are flat, nonperspectival versions of this cup.
10.112
Fuji
’s most conventional animation: a paper-cup shape rolling in an arc against a white background.
CONNECT TO THE BLOG
We profile another great experimental animator in “Len Lye, Renaissance Kiwi.”
At other points, the neat perspective renderings of the cup suddenly twist into skewed trapezoids or fold up into straight lines. Thus even the most conventional of animated movements can collapse in this pulsating, unstable space. With this and dozens of other devices, Breer explores and displays many of the perceptual tricks on which drawn animation is based. While
Duck Amuck
flaunts the unique powers of animation in order to create comedy and deflate our narrative expectations,
Fuji,
an experimental film, takes animation techniques as its very subject. The result is a film that asks the viewer to enjoy its abstract design and reflect as well on the possibilities of animated filmmaking.
In most situations, when we watch a film, we have some idea of what type it will be. If we are seeing a documentary, we expect to learn something, perhaps in a way that will entertain or move us in the process. An experimental film, however, will probably challenge us, rather like a game, to figure out its patterns and strategies. Animated films that we encounter in theaters will most likely amuse and entertain us.
In watching a documentary film, we can ask ourselves just what it is trying to tell us. Does it present one or more categories of things? If so, how are these organized? Is the filmmaker trying to convey an attitude about the topic? Are there abstract or narrative portions that lend interest to its subject? Or is the topic organized as an argument? Does the filmmaker present convincing evidence or rely more on emotional appeal cloaked as logic?
As we have seen, experimental films often employ abstract or associational formal patterns. From moment to moment, try to understand the connections among shots or small-scale segments. Is there a similarity in shapes on the screen, in directions of movement, or in colors? If so, the film probably uses abstract form. But if you detect some similarities in subject matter that shift in odd but evocative ways as the film progresses, associational form is probably at work.
Animated films can present narratives, convey documentary information, or experiment with the medium. In most cases, however, you should be able to detect generally what techniques were used in making the film. Is the movement on the screen based on drawings or on moving puppets, clay figures, flat cut-outs, or computer-generated images? Keeping in mind that most animated films are made by shooting only one or two frames at a time, you should be able to imagine the amount of work that goes into this mode of filmmaking.
WHERE TO GO FROM HERE
Bill Nichols provides an overview of types of documentaries and issues relating to them in his
Introduction to Documentary
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001). For histories of documentary, see Richard Meran Barsam,
Non-Fiction Film: A Critical History,
rev. ed. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1992), and Erik Barnouw,
Documentary: A History of the Non-Fiction Film,
2nd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993).
Much contemporary work on documentary has centered on how this mode of filmmaking can be differentiated from fiction. Bill Nichols’s
Representing Reality
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991) explores this question. See also Michael Renov, ed.,
Theorizing Documentary
(New York: Routledge, 1993); the essays by Noël Carroll and Carl R. Plantinga in Carroll and David Bordwell, eds.,
Post-Theory: Reconstructing Film Studies
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1996); Plantinga’s
Rhetoric and Representation in Nonfiction Film
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997); and Michael Tobias, ed.,
The Search for Reality: The Art of Documentary Filmmaking
(Studio City, CA: Wiese, 1997).
For studies of some of the most historically important documentary filmmakers, see Kevin Jackson, ed.,
The Humphrey Jennings Reader
(Manchester, England: Carcanet, 1993); Thomas W. Benson and Carolyn Anderson,
Reality Fictions: The Films of Frederick Wiseman
(Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1989); Gary Evans,
John Grierson and the National Film Board: The Politics of Wartime Propaganda
(Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1984); Paul Rotha,
Robert J. Flaherty: A Biography
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1983); Randolph Lewis,
Emile de Antonio: Radical Film-maker in Cold War America
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2000); and Douglas Kellner and Dan Streible, eds.,
Emile de Antonio: A Reader
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000).
Alan Rosenthal presents case studies of several important film and television documentaries, including Barbara Koppel’s
Harlan County, U.S.A.,
in
The Documentary Conscience: A Casebook in Film Making
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980).
Roger and Me
On its release,
Roger and Me
was hailed as one of the best films of 1989, winning large audiences in the United States and abroad. It seemed a likely contender for an Academy Award until a series of articles pointed out that the film diverged from the actual chronology of events. The major revelations appeared in Harlan Jacobson’s interview with director Michael Moore (“Michael and Me,”
Film Comment
25, 6 [November–December 1989]: 16–30). This often heated conversation explores different conceptions of documentary accuracy.
When challenged by Jacobson about the order of events, Moore granted that “the chronology skips around a bit. That’s why I don’t use dates in the film” (
p. 111
). He claimed that he had sought to portray the entire 1980s and that the chronology of the film was not intended to be exact. Moore also said that rearranging events made the film more entertaining and allowed him to condense a decade down to a manageable viewing length.
The controversy is discussed in Carley Cohan and Gary Crowdus, “Reflections on
Roger and Me,
Michael Moore, and His Critics,”
Cinéaste
17, 4 (1990): 25–30. Carl Plantinga finds
Roger and Me
an example of an expressive documentary, a trend that also includes the work of Errol Morris (“The Mirror Framed: A Case for Expression in Documentary,”
Wide Angle
13, 2 [April 1991]: 40–53).
Good general studies of experimental cinema are P. Adams Sitney,
Visionary Film: The American Avant-Garde 1943–1978,
3rd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002); Scott MacDonald,
Avant-Garde Film: Motion Studies
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993); and Paul Arthur,
A Line of Sight: American Avant-Garde Film Since 1965
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2005). Jan-Christopher Horak’s anthology
Lovers of Cinema: The First American Film Avant-Garde, 1919–1945
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1995) deals with an earlier, often neglected, period. It contains an essay by William Moritz, “Americans in Paris: Man Ray and Dudley Murphy,” that examines the background of
Ballet mécanique.
Scott MacDonald has published his interviews with many recent and current avant-garde filmmakers in his five-volume series
A Critical Cinema: Interviews with Independent Filmmakers
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988–2006).
There are many works dealing with more specific aspects of experimental cinema. Found-footage film is discussed in William C. Wees,
Recycled Images
(New York: Anthology Film Archives, 1993), and Cecilia Hausheer and Christoph Settele, eds.,
Found Footage Film
(Luzern: VIPER/zyklop, 1992). A major trend in American avant-garde cinema is covered by Jack Sargeant, ed.,
Naked Lens: Beat Cinema
(London: Creating Books, 1997). Lauren Rabinovitz discusses female experimental filmmakers in
Points of Resistance: Women, Power & Politics in the New York Avant-Garde Cinema, 1943–71
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), including material on Maya Deren. For essays spanning the history of computer-generated experimental films by one of its early practitioners, see Malcolm Le Grice,
Experimental Cinema in the Digital Age
(London: British Film Institute, 2001).
Several of the experimental filmmakers mentioned in this book have been the subject of studies. On Maya Deren, see Bruce R. McPherson, ed.,
Essential Deren
(Kingston, NY: Docutext, 2005). See also Peter Boswell, Joan Roth-fuss, and Bruce Jenkins,
2000 BC: The Bruce Conner Story
Part II
(New York: Distributed Art Publishers, 1999). (In keeping with Conner’s sense of humor, there is no
Part I
.) The work of Andy Warhol in various media has received extensive coverage, but the books most directly focused on his films include Michael O’Pray, ed.,
Andy Warhol: Film Factory
(London: British Film Institute, 1989), and Ann Abrahams,
Warhol Films
(Amsterdam: Rongwrong, 1989). See also Bill Landis,
Anger: The Unauthorized Biography of Kenneth Anger
(New York: HarperCollins, 1995); Regina Cornwell,
Snow Seen: The Films and Photographs of Michael Snow
(Toronto: Peter Martin, 1980); and Philip Monk, “Around Wavelength: The Sculpture, Film and Photo Work of Michael Snow,” in
The Michael Snow Project: Visual Art 1951–1993
(Toronto: Art Gallery of Ontario, 1994).
A shot-by-shot analysis of
Ballet mécanique
may be found in Standish Lawder,
The Cubist Cinema
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975).
The most comprehensive history of animation to date is Giannalberto Bendazzi’s
Cartoons: One Hundred Years of Cinema Animation
(London: John Libbey, 1994), which is truly international in its scope. Donald Crafton concentrates on the silent era in his
Before Mickey: The Animated Film 1898–1928
(1982; 2nd ed., Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993). John Grant’s
Masters of Animation
(New York: Watson-Guptill, 2001) provides brief introductions to major international animators.
Many histories concentrate on Hollywood animation, particularly in the era of studio-made shorts. See Leonard Maltin,
Of Mice and Magic: A History of American Animated Cartoons
(New York: New American Library, 1980), and Michael Barrier,
Hollywood Cartoons: American Animation in Its Golden Age
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1999). Allan Neuwirth offers behind-the-scenes accounts in
Makin’ Toons: Inside the Most Popular Animated TV Shows and Movies
(New York: Allworth Press, 2003), which deals with the era since
Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
(1988).
Good general introductions to the various techniques of animation are Roger Noake’s
Animation: A Guide to Animated Film Techniques
(London: MacDonald Orbis, 1988) and Kit Laybourne’s
The Animation Book
(New York: Three Rivers, 1998).
An in-depth consideration of the artistic properties of animation is Maureen Furniss’s
Art in Motion: Animation Aesthetics
(Sydney: John Libbey, 2007).
Specific types of animation are dealt with in Robert Russett and Cecile Starr, ed.,
Experimental Animation: An Illustrated Anthology
(New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1976), which contains an interview with Roger Breer; Lotte Reiniger’s
Shadow Puppets, Shadow Theatres and Shadow Films
(Boston: Publishers Plays, 1970), dealing with silhouette animation; and Michael Frearson’s
Clay Animation: American Highlights 1908 to the Present
(New York: Twayne, 1994). Peter Lord and Brian Sibley’s
Cracking Animation: The Aardman Book of 3-D Animation
(London: Thames & Hudson, 2004) deals with clay animation, drawing entirely on the work of the British firm Aardman, whose productions include the Wallace and Gromit films of Nick Park.
Most books on computer animation aim at teaching the techniques to aspiring practitioners. Isaac V. Kerlow’s
The Art of 3D Computer Animation and Effects,
4th ed. (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2009) contains a historical introduction and explains how the techniques we discussed in
Part Three
, such as lighting and camera movement, are simulated using computer programs. The most widely used CGI animating program, Maya, is explained (including an instructional CD-ROM) in
The Art of Maya,
4th ed. (Sybex, 2007). Andrew Chong’s
Digital Animation
(Lausanne: AVA Publishing, 2008) presents a history of computer techniques in films and games, with many excellent illustrations.
Works about individual animators include Valliere T. Richard’s
Norman McLaren: Manipulator of Movement
(Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1982); Donald Crafton’s
Emile Cohl, Caricature, and Film
(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990); Peter Hames, ed.,
Dark Alchemy: The Films of Jan S
ankmajer
(Trowbridge, Wiltshire, England: Flicks Books, 1995); John Canemaker’s
Tex Avery: The MGM Years, 1942–1955
(Atlanta: Turner, 1996); Leslie Cabarga’s
The Fleischer Story
(New York: Nostalgia Press, 1976), which deals with Dave and Max Fleischer (Betty Boop and Popeye); Maureen Furniss, ed.,
Chuck Jones: Conversations
(Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2005); Mike Barrier,
The Animated Man: A Life of Walt Disney
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007); and Ray Harryhausen and Tony Dalton,
Ray Harryhausen: An Animated Life
(London: Aurum Press, 2003).
We frequently blog about animation on “Observations on film art and
Film Art.
” For animation’s place in the film industry, see “Too many toons? Then why are they making so much money?” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=338
. We speculate on why modern animated features often seem better than their live-action competitors in “By Annie standards,” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=178
.
On the humor in the Warner Bros. films of one of the great animators of the studios’ golden age, see “Pausing and chortling: A tribute to Bob Clampett,” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=1991
. We offer an extensive list of the films created by the Aardman studio (of “Wallace and Gromit” fame) in “Tracking down Aardman creatures.” See
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=1795
.
The Pixar animation studio has several times furnished us with blog topics. On editing in computer animation, see “Reflections on
Cars,
” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=16
; “Rat rapture,” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=1207
; and “A glimpse into the Pixar kitchen,” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=2205
. On Disney, see “Uncle Walt the artist,” at
www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=247
.
Although many countries have made animated films, the worldwide commercial market has long been dominated by American cartoons, particularly those from the Disney studio. Until quite recently, theatrical animation was so expensive that only large companies could support it. In the 1970s, however, small Japanese companies emerged as rivals to Hollywood firms. They began producing hundreds of what came to be known as
anime
(pronounced AH-nee-may), which quickly became part of the world’s film culture.