animation

Distraction, Entertainment and Fun

Ian Alterman — Thu, 13 Oct 2022 23:19:14 +0000

Distraction, Entertainment and Fun Ian Alterman October 13, 2022 - 19:19

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The 22^nd Annual Animation Show of Shows

October 11, 2022, NYC

The history of my personal love for animation (and the history of the Annual Animation Show of Shows) is laid out in my review for the 18^th Annual Animation Show of Shows.

This newest collection of animated shorts (the 22^nd Annual Animation Show of Shows) had an initial screening in New York City at the School of Visual Arts theater on October 11, 2022. It will be open to the public for a one-week run at the Quad Cinema in Greenwich Village beginning December 30, 2022. (Mark your calendar!)

As noted in my prior reviews, in watching these series', one is immediately struck by just how wide a variety of animation types and styles there are: from "traditional" to watercolor, from stop-motion to claymation, from collage to puppetry, and beyond. Also interesting is the sheer number of countries from which the animators hail: the current group includes Japan, France, Germany, Poland, Switzerand, U.S., Iceland, Russia, and Canada.

This year's group is comprised of ten films, including the Academy Award-winning short, "The Man Who Planted Trees." However, this year's collection focuses (deliberately or not) on more "abstract" animation: there are fewer "figures" and "stories," and more "cerebral" animation. As an animation fan, I found this year's grouping to be particularly fabulous; the "stripped-down" nature of most of the shorts really focuses one's attention on the technical aspects of the animation. And some of it is truly wondrous.

The show opens with "Beyond Noh," a fast-paced, constantly morphing set of ~3,500 masks from all over the world, from primitive and Native American to Western entertainment (e.g., Jason's hockey mask, the mask from "Scream," the Guy Fawkes mask), from circus masks to the surgical masks we have all been wearing during the pandemic. Anything that can be classified as a "mask" is included. Set to a conga drum rhythm, the images speed up and slow down, and the overall effect is informative, fun, and visually stunning.

Next up is "Empty Places," which is without question my favorite of this grouping, and already in my top ten favorites of all time. Set to Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," we see random situations that include movement: an empty elevator whose doors will not stay closed, an empty escalator pushing an empty can, a revolving barbershop-type pole whose function we cannot discern, an automatic revolving door, an automatic underwater pool vacuum, a copy machine working by itself, a turntable playing an LP (the conceit being that it is playing the music we are hearing), and a couple of other scenes, all seen from fairly close-up. As the film progresses, we see the same scenes from a little further out (giving us a little more information about what is happening in each), and then a little further out again. The scenes remain empty of people or "life," other than the movement of the objects. The effect, depending on one's perspective, can be either lonely and sad, or peaceful. The simple-looking computer animation here is deceptively complex.

The third offering is "Beseder" (German for "fine" or "okay.") Our first "figure"-based short is actually one of two films that are somewhat bizarre. Set to an original song by Tova Gertner, we see a succession of human-like figures, but distorted in ways that can be either very funny or very unsettling: think Picasso or Braque with a decidedly edgy humor.

Next up is "Zoizogylphe," my third favorite of the group. Tiny black-and-white bird-like figures with triangular heads fill the screen in various forms, some moving, some stationary. Set pieces can be calm with minimal movement, or cacophonous with figures clashing everywhere. The figures sometimes look like musical notes on sideways staffs, sometimes like armies battling, sometimes like an Expressionist painting. And again, the animation is some of the most complex and extraordinary I have seen in the series.

"Deszcz" (Rain) is arguably the funniest of the group. A human figure accidentally falls off the roof of a very tall building. As we watch his progress (and assumedly imminent demise) through building windows on different floors, and as the other workers watch in horror, one person grabs what looks like a blanket, but turns out to be a cape. Apparently, this is our secret superhero who can fly, and he saves the man and brings him back to the roof - where he promptly throws himself off, purposely this time. The superhero saves him again, but not before other workers begin growing themselves off the roof. Apparently, everyone thinks it is a "fun ride" since they know the superhero will save them. And he does - for a while. But eventually, the superhero simply tires out and goes back to his desk as we see people continue to fall past the window. Done in a blue-and-white palette, the animation is simple, but effective.

"Average Happiness" is one of the most remarkable shorts I have seen in the entire series, and my second favorite of this group. Set to an occasional off-screen comment by a professor who is obviously teaching a lesson in economics, what we see is a dense layer of charts, graphs, tables and diagrams constantly moving and morphing, creating a truly dazzling and colorful ever-changing display. Sometimes one can make out actual "scenes," like a cityscape or a landscape. And once again, the animation is extraordinary.

"Aurora" is the most "normal" short, a child's tale in which a young girl (JoJo) falls in love with a horse (Aurora), but the horse is eventually taken away when its owners leave the area. Another horse replaces Aurora, and JoJo is happy, but misses Aurora. The tale is told with the simplest of figures (the horse's body is a square, with its smaller square head attached by a single line), and the simplest of "backgrounds," in mostly primary colors. Heartwarming and adorable.

"Ja Folkio" ("Yes-people") is the most bizarre of the group. It takes us through a day in the life of a few of the residents of an apartment building in Iceland. But this is one truly troubling group of people; all are stereotypically bizarre in different ways. There is no normalcy, unless being bizarre is normal. Done in computer animation, the figures are odd, and the entire effect can be either very funny or very disturbing.

"Ties" is the cleverest of the series. Using a stop-motion type of animation and simple line-based drawing, we see a young woman about to leave her family for college. Unknowingly, a thread from her skirt gets caught on an old swing. As we watch her progress from cab to airport to airplane to college city, etc., we see everything back home literally unraveling as she unknowingly continues to "pull the thread" that holds everything together back home. Her parents watch helplessly as their entire life disappears in a constant unraveling. Eventually, even dad unravels, and mom finally grabs the string and starts pulling - which begins unraveling the daughter's skirt until she is naked. The daughter then grabs the other side of the thread, and mom and daughter play tug of war over the assumedly very long distance. Eventually, the string snaps and both of them end up with part of it, and begin "recreating" their worlds.

The series ends with Frederic Back's "The Man Who Planted Trees," which won the Academy Award for Best Animated Short in 1988. From the press kit: "The Oscar-winning film, narrated by Christopher Plummer, tells the story of a young man's encounter with an isolated shepherd, Elzéard Bouffier, who is determined to renew his barren landscape by planting thousands of trees. Based on a possibly autobiographical 1953 fable by Jean Giono, it's a beautifully hand-drawn epic -- an environmental plea ahead of its time. As the shepherd's efforts bear fruit, the film's palette gradually moves from dusty browns to a range of colors, evoking memories of the great impressionist painters."

In the current political, social, and cultural zeitgeist (including a still-ongoing pandemic), we all need a little bit of distraction, entertainment and fun. Here is a wonderful way to pass about 90 minutes, and be entertained, informed, and intrigued. I very highly recommend the 22^nd Annual Animation Show of Shows as a respite from a world full of tension. It will begin its run on December 30, 2022 at the Quad Cinema in NYC. Check with the theater for show times. And enjoy!

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Video of the Week: These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

Ian Alterman — Sun, 04 Apr 2021 00:44:35 +0000

Video of the Week: These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things Ian Alterman April 3, 2021 - 20:44

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Two of my favorite things in the world are progressive rock music and animation. I have reported on both on Culture Catch many times over the years. And since I am also a minister who does outreach to the homeless, this submission is a real trifecta for me. (And given that my first name is the same as the songwriter, maybe it's a quadrifecta?)

Working with Jethro Tull founder Ian Anderson, Iranian filmmaker Sam Chegini has created a wonderful animated video using the song "Aqualung." Staying away from the lyrics' more bawdy, prurient imagery, the short film works from Aqualung's situation as a homeless man, and focuses on homelessness and related issues. At one point, we see a man who looks like a corporate bigwig, but, apparently, is food insecure and ends up at a food bank. The video also includes a cameo by Mr. Anderson, in "rotoscoped" form.

The animation is simple but effective, and the overall effect is quite remarkable.

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Pussy Galore in Modern Times

Robert Cochrane — Sat, 20 Mar 2021 14:23:47 +0000

Pussy Galore in Modern Times Robert Cochrane March 20, 2021 - 10:23

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animation

Peaches: "Pussy Mask"

Playfully provacative, but a cattle prod for the shockable, Peaches new 45 will never be the hit that it deserves to be.

If it troubled the airwaves heads would roll and licenses would be lost.

Catchy, insidious, and playful this is a horse frightening two fingered exercise.

Madonna would never dare to go this little bit further, though she might like us to think that she might.

The pussies here are glorious cartoons,

Disembodied they're not basqued up for ceaseless crotch thrusting titillation.

"Put My Pussy In The Senate" screams out to be a t shirt.

A placard, a tattoo, or a slogan on a bus.

Tongue out and yet in cheek, and very cartoon chic.

Wherever it is required or is desired, it is funny confrontational with a true sense of iconic frustration.

If anyone is offended, then they richly deserve that poverty of response.

Like a schoolyard Grace Jones, or a petulant Cristina, "Pussy Mask" is both a mantra and a clarion call.

It belongs aside the uproariously profane "Useless Man" by the late Leigh Bowery's short-lived band Minty.

There are also traces of the deadpan delivery of The Flying Lizards.

"My pussy wear a mask

My pussy don't play"

This day-glo ditty for the klitty also suggests the attitude of Little Annie, Jayne County, and Lydia Lunch.

Fem, but FM it certainly ain't.

And yet is rather quaint in its defiance.

The fig leaf has been replaced by a covid necessary surgical mask.

"Pussy Stand- Up Erection"

There's a trinity of angels in the guise of sublime icons.

The late impeccably attired Ruth Bader Gunsberg is in celestial over-drive.

A head banging Alexandria Ocasio Cortez lets rip and Dr Anthony S. Fauci does a neatly spirited boogaloo.

Delightfully realised by the gaudy animations of Leah Shore and Rob Scuflo this is a small transgressive misstresspiece.

A catchy song with earworm a go-go.

Peaches is served forbidden fruit.

A new kind for modern times.

Peaches proffered by a tempting hunk with a platter of them,

The apples of the Garden of Eden have suffered a coup.

Expressive, impressive and archly funny.

This is a seriously perfect 45.

Clever in its disregard.

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Life Through a Puppy’s Eyes Ain’t Something to Bark About

Brandon Judell — Wed, 17 Jun 2020 00:38:07 +0000

Life Through a Puppy’s Eyes Ain’t Something to Bark About Brandon Judell June 16, 2020 - 20:38

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As Mr. Bob Dylan noted last week in a rare interview: "Good news in today's world is like a fugitive treated like a hoodlum and put on the run." Substitute "a French puppy" for "good news" and you basically have the plot of Marona's Fantastic Tale, a tale of urban life with all the ups and downs of canine/human romance.

Yes, here, in one of the more beautifully animated features released in many a year, director/ writer Anca Damian chronicles the life of Nine. Nine, as you might have guessed, earns her moniker by being the ninth and final puppy born to a rather sexy mixed-breed mom and a racist pure-bred dad. But that isn’t how the story starts.

Sadly -- but not for us -- we meet Nine with her heart-shaped nose right after she is hit by an auto, winding up as "a mere smudge on the asphalt." As her final owner, a self-centered teen, Solange, kneels by her side, the injured mutt decides to "take a moment to rewind the film of [her] life."

And what a varied life it has been, as varied as the names she's been given: Ana, Sara, Morona. Then there are her "owners": Manole, the acrobat; Istvan, the oversized construction manager and his mean-spirited gal pal; Istvan's deranged, heavily medicated mother; and finally the aforementioned Solange and family, which includes a disagreeable feline and a worse grandpapa. There are also run-ins with dogcatchers, catnaps in garbage cans, and days of hunger. "I sank into an endless night."

Without having read Sartre's No Exit, Nine discovers on her own that hell can be other people, except for those who love her, and they are problematic, too. She notes that "happiness is different for dogs and humans. We want things to remain exactly the same. As for humans, they always want something new."

What might sound like a familiar trope is brought to several other dimensions by the surreal, undulating artistry of Brecht Evens and his character designs plus by Gina Thortensen and Sarah Mazzetti's vibrantly detailed sets. Under Damian's astute direction, the nine planets frequently swirl overhead throughout Nine's journey as she traipses by a passerby who might have the head of a fish or who just be a be a bunch of walking uninhabited clothing. Throughout, limbs stretch and contort, flying this way and that, faces crumble and reassemble, and every artistic phase from early Picasso onwards seems to be reflected here with quantum fluctuations of line.

As a mere dot in this frequently uncharitable landscape, our heroine seeks to restore a lost sense of wholeness to her world that can only be found with another caring soul. Her credo are the words her mother shared with Nine shortly before she began to woof: "Everyone has a right to love and a bone." Has any film ever had a more noble message?

[Starting this week, the film, which played in competition at the Annecy International Film Festival, and won the Animation is Film Special Jury Prize last year, has been made available at MaronaMovie.com through virtual cinema partner links. In addition to the film, exclusive to the virtual release includes additional interview content with director Anca Damian.]

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Re-Animate Me, Part 2!

Ian Alterman — Sat, 20 Jan 2018 15:39:23 +0000

Re-Animate Me, Part 2! Ian Alterman January 20, 2018 - 10:39

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The 19th Annual Animation Show of Shows

The history of my personal love for animation (and the history of the Annual Animation Show of Shows) is laid out in my review for the 18th Annual Animation Show of Shows.

The newest collection of animated shorts had its initial premiere screening in Fall 2017. It was then shown at the Quad Cinema in January 2018. Unlike last year -- when there was only a single showing of the collection, at the Leonard Nimoy Thalia on the Upper West Side -- this year the show ran for two weeks, with two to four screenings per day.

As noted in my earlier review, in watching these series' one is immediately struck by just how wide a variety of animation types and styles there are: from "traditional" to watercolor, from stop-motion to claymation, from collage to puppetry, and beyond. Also interesting is the sheer number of countries from which the animators hail: the current grouping includes France, Belgium, U.S., U.K., Canada, Switzerland, Germany, and Sweden.

The 19th Annual Animation Show of Shows opens with "Can You Do It" (set to the song of the same name by Charles X), which features a horse race through the streets of a large city. Using mostly black, blues and whites, with the figures drawn in a quasi-geometric art deco style, the metaphor of a drag race (replacing the cars with horses) is clever and well-handled. This is my second favorite film of this grouping. Following this is "Tiny Big," a delightful series of related (?) vignettes using simple line drawings. With no narrative, the only sound one hears is the ambient sounds of each vignette. Lack of narrative -- or using only music or ambient sound -- seems to be one of the themes of this collection of shorts.

Next up is the hilarious "Next Door." Using vibrant, mostly primary colors, it relates the story of a rigid, grumpy businessman and his next door neighbor, a very loud and imaginative young girl. (He and his house and possessions are drawn in a block-y fashion, while she and her house and possessions are all rounds and curves.) As he tries to settle in quietly after work, she is across the street playing imaginative games, making lots of noise. I do not want to give away the ending, which is as sweet as it can possibly be.

"The Alan Dimension" unfolds like a comedic episode of the Twilight Zone. Drawn in what looks like (but is not) "standard" animation, we are introduced to Alan and his wife, who live what seems to be a normal post-retirement life -- except that Alan gets "visions" of the future (which he draws while in a trance), but only a minute or two before the event. His wife is eventually driven to leave him out of neglect, at which point he has a vision that is a true realization for him. The denouement is both amusing and touching.

Opening with grainy black-and-white footage of a car careening off a cliff, and then using a truly wide variety of animation styles, "Beautiful Like Elsewhere" seems to be a meditation on the aftermath of the crash, both temporal (e.g., grieving family) and spiritual. The images evoke an equally wide variety of feelings, which are given even greater force by the slow and mostly melancholy music to which the film is set. This is one of two films that I felt were too short: I loved what it did, and simply wanted more.

"Hangman" is one of many such films that used to be shown in classrooms in the 50s and 60s to foment discussion on various topics. Done in traditional style, the film is a series of animated stills, with Herschel Bernardi narrating Maurice Ogden's famous poem. It is a wonderful treat to see this newly restored version in all its glory. "The Battle of San Romano" takes the Uffizi portion of Paolo Uccello's masterpiece and "animates" it -- both literally and figuratively, as the painting comes alive and figures morph and re-morph, in a cycle of violence, death…and life.

"Gokurosama" is positively my favorite film of this group. As a Japanese mall prepares to open for the day, an old woman in one of the shops throws out her back and cannot move. Her daughter rings up the chiropractor's office in the mall. What ensues as they try to get to the office is hilarious. Done in a palette of gorgeous colors, this is a funny, charming and wonderful film.

"Dear Basketball" is Kobe Bryant's encomium to basketball, written and narrated by him. Using intensive pencil sketch animation, it tells of his lifelong love of basketball, and his mixed emotions upon retiring. "Island" is a too-short trip to an island with unusual flora and fauna. Another film without narration of any type, this one uses the sounds on the island to create a sonic stew of melody and rhythm. Its finale is unexpected and hysterical. "Unsatisfying" is another way-too-short film that takes a look at situations that frustrate people (e.g., a soda that does not make it out of a vending machine, a dart that just misses the center of the dartboard, etc.). As one of the two people who joined me at the screening noted, this film could have gone on nearly forever and remained hysterical at all times.

Each screening has a "big" film, one that is the "centerpiece" of the group. "The Burden" is this year's entry. And it is truly extraordinary. Using stop motion animation with stick puppets, this mini-musical gives the inhabitants of a small town an opportunity to present their various "burdens" to the audience. Oh, did I mention that the inhabitants are anthropomorphic fish, monkeys, dogs and other animals -- and that they are singing in Swedish? The effect of this film is unlike that of any other film I have seen in the past four years (with the possible exception of last year's "Manoman"): a strange combination of humor, melancholy, and (at least for me) even a bit of discomfort. But utterly brilliant.

"Les Abeilles Domestiques" is yet another too-short film featuring a series of vignettes that are interconnected via "cells," with actions often occurring between the cells. Using colorful line and simple figure drawing, it adds cells one or two at a time, creating a hive-like structure of circular -- and increasingly funny -- scenarios.

"Our Wonderful Nature -- The Common Chameleon" is unquestionably the funniest film of the group. Done in hyper-real computer animation, the narrator gives us some background on the chameleon, including its insatiable and uncontrollable appetite. It is this appetite that gets our friendly lizard into serious trouble.

"Casino" is a fast-moving montage of quasi-impressionistic casino-related images, set to Oscar Peterson's "Something's Coming." Using primary and other bright colors, the sheer kinetic energy of the film brings you in and does not let you go.

"Everything" is a perfect ending to this group. Narrated using the (multi-cultural, ecumenical, playful) philosophy of Alan Watts, the film explains the interconnectedness of everything in the universe, from atoms to galaxies, using bright images of hundreds of different things (including some somersaulting lions and bears). Informative, fun, and absolutely charming.

As I noted in my previous review, for me any good animation is worth watching. But it is particularly worth watching when it is of the consistent caliber of these groupings. Look for screenings of The 19th Annual Animation Show of Shows throughout the country for the next couple of months. If it is coming to your area, go see it. You won't be disappointed!

Re-Animate Me!

Ian Alterman — Thu, 08 Jun 2017 21:26:53 +0000

Re-Animate Me! Ian Alterman June 8, 2017 - 17:26

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The 18th Annual Animation Show of Shows

SVA Theater, NYC

I became an animation fan -- a true aficionado -- early in life. It had little or nothing to do with children's shows on television (Hanna-Barbera, Speed Racer, Gigantor, et al), though I watched and liked most of them. Rather, it was probably when I first saw Fantasia (likely mid-1960s), and then The Jungle Book (1967) and (of course!) The Beatles' Yellow Submarine (1968). By that time, I was actively looking for good (or great) animation. I was not a fan of Disney (though I have a sentimental fondness for The Aristocats (1970)), and anime feature films did not become widely known in the U.S. until the 1980s.

So when I heard about something called the Fantastic Animation Festival in 1977, I made sure to check it out. Comprised of a series of 18 animated short films, it was exactly what animation aficionados were looking for. It opened with a short rotoscoped animated film called "French Windows" (set to the music of Pink Floyd's "One of These Days") and ended with "Closed Mondays," one of the first well-known "claymation" (stop-motion clay animation) short films by master claymation artist Will Vinton. (The show also featured the infamous "Bambi Meets Godzilla.") If memory serves, there was a second Fantastic Animation Festival (or similar group of shorts) in 1978 or 1979. It was at there that I first saw the work of Bruno Bozzetto, which led me to his 1976 classic, Allegro Non Troppo, an absolutely hysterical parody of Fantasia.

Since I am not a fan of Disney, almost an entire decade went by before I found anything worthwhile in animation. And, boy, did I find it. Akira (1988) was one of the first anime feature films to find recognition (and success) in the U.S. Using a breathtakingly "trippy" style of anime, the film is set in a dystopian future Japan, and tells the story of a biker "gang" that gets involved with a government experiment after one of its members finds he has super powers. Colorful, grim, violent, and absolutely stunning, it remains my favorite animated feature of all time.

With a few exceptions, the animation "wasteland" continued for me for many more years. So it was that in 2014, my friend Sam took me to the 16th Annual Animation Show of Shows, which is curated by Ron Diamond, founder of Acme Filmworks. [N.B. The annual Animation Show of Shows had been around since 1999, but had been shown solely to the animation industry, including college art/animation programs. The 16th Annual Animation Show of Shows was the first to be screened publicly.] Like the Fantastic Animation Festival, each show is comprised of a series of short films. After missing the 2015 grouping, I went with Sam (who is friends with Mr. Diamond) to the 2016 grouping (the 18th Annual Animation Show of Shows), which was recently screened again at the Leonard Nimoy Thalia Theater at Symphony Space.

In watching these series, one is immediately struck by just how wide a variety of animation types and styles there are: from "traditional" to watercolor, from stop-motion to claymation, from collage to puppetry, and beyond. Also interesting is the sheer number of countries from which the animators hail -- the 2016 grouping includes Scotland, Belgium, Canada, Latvia, Norway, Korea, Russia, France, Israel, and England.

The 18th Annual Animation Show of Shows opens with "Stems," a stop-motion film that serves to show how stop-motion animation is made, with narration by the animator. It is absolutely adorable, as common objects are used to create figures playing instruments. This is followed by "Shift," a non-dialogue film in a traditional animation style, which tells the story of a young, very "buttoned-down" young woman who lives on a large estate, her accidental meeting with a "free spirit" who lives in the adjoining forest, and the effect they have on each other. Short and very beautiful, it is tied for my second favorite of this grouping. [N.B. Due to some minor nudity, this short was moved toward the end of the program when I saw it in May: the final few films are more "adult."]

Next up is "Pearl," a sort of "music video," done in the relatively new form of "virtual reality animation." Although it comes off as "simple," it is deceptively complex, with nuances that can be missed the first time around. I was ambivalent about it when I saw it in 2016; now I consider it an exceptional piece of animated filmmaking. This is followed by "Crin-crin," a delightful "collage-like" animation that consists mostly of a chase after two animals steal the tail of another. The underlying music is an integral part of the film and, at about the halfway point, the animation is interspersed with real-life segments showing the four musicians playing. A very clever element, well-handled.

What do you get when you take a New Yorker magazine cover, write a fictional "back story" for it, and animate the story in (mostly) primary colors? You get "Mirror," a humorous look at how a mother and daughter have very different perceptions of something the mother says to the daughter, and how it affects (or does not affect) their lives. Heavily narrated, and amusing in a New Yorker-ish kind of way. Following this is "Last Summer in the Garden," which posits gardening as a metaphor for life and death. Done in gorgeous Impressionistic watercolor animation, it "washes" from one scene to another in gorgeous fashion.

"Waiting for the New Year" is a look at the life of a woman who takes care of grounds-keeping at a housing complex. There is no dialogue, but the music and sound effects help tell the story. Somewhat melancholy (mostly in shades of white, brown and black), it is nevertheless a beautiful story, told in a compelling manner.

"Piper" is one of Disney's two contributions to this grouping (they generally always have one). It is about the birth and first "escapade" of a sandpiper. Sweetly sentimental (as only Disney can be), one will either love it (for its "cuteness") or wince (at its "cloying" quality). "Boygen" is an abstract piece, using shapes and colors rather than figures. (According to the artist, a boygen is "a coiling force that blocks your path and strangles ambition.") Despite a brief interview with the artist giving an explanation prior to the film, I found this one only marginally interesting.

"Afternoon Class" is a hysterical look at a classroom full of very bored students, and the way in which one particular student tries (and fails) to stay awake. Using his hallucinations, and some neat sound effects, we see all the ways that boredom can affect the mind.

"About A Mother" is unquestionably my favorite film of this grouping. Done in black-and-white, using something close to stick figures, it tells the story of an African mother whose love (and hair) support her three children (and sometimes even her entire local village). The storytelling is nothing short of brilliant, and the entire effect is magical. In this case, the post-film interview with the artist (who is from Russia) actually adds something to the film.

Want to learn how to create a 90-second video in 10 seconds? Use "Exploozy," the new app for creating animation. It's a joke, of course, and the "Exploozy" app, which this very short film describes, is a parody of alleged art-creating apps. Very clever.

"Inner Workings" is tied for my second favorite of this grouping (despite the fact that it was made by Disney). It tells the story of an average Joe whose organs (inner workings) control his life -- until they realize they are killing his love for that life. Done in a very colorful Pixar-ish animation, it is simply great fun, and a joy to watch.

"Corpus" (the first of the "adult" films) is the perfect follow-up to "Inner Workings." Using hyper-real animation (virtual reality?), it shows a Rube Goldberg-esque contraption comprised of body parts and mechanical parts, which are set in motion to create an alternately comical and gruesome chain of events. The ending will leave you either laughing or gasping.

With the exception of "Boygen," "Blue" is the most abstract of the films, despite having obvious imagery. Done entirely in shades of white and blue, it seems to follow two subjects: a woman bathing and a man "cutting" himself with Xacto knives. Images of the woman, man, knives and other objects (as well as the whites and blues) segue into each other in a sort of "free associative" fashion. Other than the minimally "violent" imagery of the knives, I am not sure why this was considered too "difficult" for children; it is actually a beautiful film.

"Manoman" is almost certainly the most disturbing animated film I have ever seen. In fact, so disturbing was it the first time that I almost didn't want to stay for it the second time. Using stop-motion animation and puppet-type figurines controlled by rods, it tells the story of (I think) a repressed man who goes to a primal scream therapy group session to "open up." At first, he is unable to express his anger and rage at all. But another member of the group (who, I think, is actually the alter ego he is trying to express) not only helps him to express himself, but turns him into a monster, and the two go on a violent, hyper-id-based rampage. Everything about this film is disturbing, from the physical attributes of the protagonist (with his wide face and high-set eyes), to the entire (grotesque) figure of his alter ego, to the form of animation used, to the story itself. And the ending really puts the icing on the disturbed cake. All of which does not change the fact that this is nothing short of an astounding piece of animation filmmaking.

The final film, "All Their Shades," uses a combination of dressed-up objects (mostly light switches) and styles (stop-motion, claymation, etc.), heavily narrated by a male voice, to humorously address the "many different ways" that women can be. ("Women are not any one thing.") The twist ending will almost certainly be unexpected.

For me, any good animation is worth watching. But it is particularly worth watching when it is of the consistent caliber of these groupings. Mr. Diamond is considering a possible third screening of the 18th Annual in NYC sometime soon. Look for it, and go. If not, definitely look for the 19th Annual Animation Show of Shows, likely in Fall 2017. You won't be disappointed.

Waiting for Salvation

Dusty Wright — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 11:44:23 +0000

Waiting for Salvation Dusty Wright July 13, 2011 - 07:44

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animation

Rango(Paramount Pictures DVD)

The hyper-realism of animation has afforded moviegoers such a rich tapestry of narrative possibilities that we should not be surprised that we are moved by sentimental toys, slick talking foxes, or existential lizards.

Don Quixote, Chinatown, Hunter S. Thompson's Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, and Clint Eastwood's High Plain Drifter all factor into Johnny Depp's character in the animated modern-day Western Rango. A world worth absorbing on the big silver screen and/or DVD.

Clever references litter the movie with enough frequency to keep most culture savvy adults on their collective toes. My two twelve-year-old companions missed most, if not all of them, making for some odd moments when I laughed and they just stared at the screen. Regardless, we both left the theater entertained.

NY Times film critic A.O. Scott recently observed:

One of the main purposes of modern feature-length animation is to blend together traditional film genres -- usually romantic comedy cross-bred with action-adventure -- and recast them as beast fables with ready-made merchandising potential. Animals who talk and behave like people are at least as old as Aesop, though of course neither Aesop nor Beatrix Potter had a reserve army of movie stars eager to augment their incomes by doing voice work.

I would add that in this parallel animated universe (somewhere between Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Pixar's animal/insect/toy universe), we the audience want to return to the proverbial Garden of Eden, where man lived with beast in perfect harmony. Where man vs. nature was only experienced via weather cycles. Where talking lizards are every bit believable and cool as your hipster aunt or uncle.

As we know and expect, Johnny Depp is not your stock Hollywood actor. He abandoned that mold long ago after he left his first TV gig on 21 Jump Street in 1991. He has afforded his resume a rich tapestry of eccentrics, both real and imagined -- Edward Scissorhands, Captain Jack Sparrow, Willy Wonka, Ed Wood, The Mad Hatter, Raoul Duke, et al. Now he's added another colorful character, albeit animated. As Rango, he even chanelled some of his departed friend Hunter, right down to his Hawaiian shirt.

Yes, we can get lost in the trials and tribulations of make-believe, knowing deep down that pain and suffering is as real in human life as it is portrayed in the world of animation, regardless if the audience is comprised of children or adults.

Shorties: Codependent Lesbian Space Aliens and Cranky Autos

Brandon Judell — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 14:00:00 +0000

Shorties: Codependent Lesbian Space Aliens and Cranky Autos Brandon Judell June 22, 2011 - 10:00

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1) Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same

"Straight" from Sundance, CLSASS might just be the most hilarious film of 2011. This deliriously demented celluloid laugh-fest was screened the other night by Rooftop Films, the weekly summer venue that showcases "independently produced shorts and feature-length films" for a rather hip crowd on a Big Apple roof.

Before the film could begin, however, the hyperkinetic, all-girl, punky Japanese band The Suzan energized the audience, prompting several couples to start dancing in the aisles.

Then there was breaking news: the New York State Senate had passed the Gay Marriage Bill. The attendees roared with glee.

What better ways are there to get an audience fired up for the ultimate lesbian comedy?

CLSASS begins with a calamity on a faraway planet. It seems the inhabitants of the same are experiencing a crisis with their ozone layer. The cause of this disaster: three lesbians who love too much. To cure these baldheaded and gilled lasses of their malady, they are sent to Earth to experience heartbreak. Why? Heartbreak will make them numb to tender passion, and then they'll become model citizens and be able to return to their planet.

Immediately on that pronouncement, a spaceship lands the trio in New York City, where two of the gals find getting dates with earthling lesbians quite easy, although transforming these encounters into soul-shattering affairs is not. In their search to experience dramatic depression, the only things that really shake the gals up is the sad sight of cheesecakes moving away from them continually on those revolving dessert trays in better diners, and the calling of Lotto numbers on TV.

Zylar (Susan Ziegler), the deliciously obtuse third alien, though, snags a lonely, hefty gal pal, Jane (the superb Lisa Haas), who works in a stationery store, and the two do fall into a meaningful relationship even though Zylar's version of kissing is holding onto Jane's nose.

If this weren't enough, throw into the mix two dysfunctional U.S. government agents keeping their eyes upon all of the above proceedings.

With a sure hand, director/writer Madeleine Olnek wittily captures how the aliens fumble and bumble lovingly with modern dyke mating rituals. Imagine When Harry Met Sally meets Ellen meets Planet 9 from Outer Space.

Kudos also to Nat Bouman's solid black-and-white cinematography, Curtis Grout's inventive editing, and Rebecca Conroy's campy production design.

2) Cars 2

Having viewed Cars 2, I can only count my blessings I missed its predecessor. Even with its highly adroit usage of 3D, this animated exercise in busyness has an incomprehensible James Bond-ian storyline that should baffle young ones as much as it grates on their elders.

Ben Queen's exacerbating screenplay takes place in a dimension solely populated by automobiles. Sadly, motor vehicles have as many character flaws as homo sapiens, so it's no wonder jalopies fond of gasoline are about to terrorize Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) and the other participants in the World Grand Prix race. You see, all of the entries will be running on an alternative fuel, and if the bad guys...I mean the "bad sedans"...succeed, ecology will be dealt a deadly blow.

Well, who can save the world? Mater (Larry the Cable Guy), a bumbling, rusty tow truck can, with the aid of two British spy cars.

Charmless and out of gas, this offering does offer a great excuse for walking -- out of the theater.

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The Post-Avatar Blues

Brandon Judell — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 21:40:38 +0000

The Post-Avatar Blues Brandon Judell March 26, 2010 - 17:40

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How to Train Your Dragon concerns a youth and his best friend, a dragon. Sound familiar? Been there, done that with Eragon, Mulan, Pete's Dragon, and a dozen others. For a refresher course, check out the site Dragons of the Silver and Small Screen. Of course, this 3D effort by the writers/directors of Lilo & Stitch, Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois, is often visually enticing, yet after viewing Avatar so recently, the Pow! Factor is at times missing. How quickly our expectations for what's screened in our cinemas keep rising.

I remember when one of my students complained Psycho was boring because there were not enough murders. Anyway, at the screening I attended, boisterous little toddlers, who screeched during the opening Dragon credits, apparently were mesmerized by what they later saw through their 3D goggles, and their yaps remained shut for the rest of the picture. Either that's a great recommendation, or the Valium I sprinkled on their popcorn kicked in.

The hero here is a young Viking lad, who for some ungodly reason is named Hiccup (blandly voiced by Jay Baruchel). Going a tidbit Freudian, Hiccup is your ordinary pre-homosexual lad who hates sports and killing dragons, who is considered an uncoordinated klutz by his peers, and who falls in love with a tomboy. He doesn't come out in this segment, but apparently in the upcoming sequel, How to Train Your Hairdresser, Hiccup develops a crush on a Justin-Bieber lookalike and conquers a brigade of right-wing fundamentalist giant squid. Here, however, the motherless Hiccup, who resides on the Island of Berk, which is located on "the meridian of Misery," learns all by himself that dragons are not his clan's enemies, but are misunderstood, lovable creatures that the Vikings should befriend and stop slaughtering.

Can his dragon-phobic dad, Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler), be won over to this pacifist, pro-PETA message? You're darn tootin' he can! But, sadly, not before the picture gave me a raging headache, which I just discovered is not at all an uncommon response to the 3D experience. Yet with aspirin by your side, if you are a parent who doesn't mind your children dreaming nightly of battling gargantuan, carnivorous, fire-breathing lizards, How to Train Your Dragon is a comparatively cheap babysitter.

One Is the Loneliest Number

Dusty Wright — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 12:33:59 +0000

One Is the Loneliest Number Dusty Wright July 9, 2008 - 08:33

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Pixar's animated movies remain the benchmark for the movie galaxy. Their latest blockbuster, WALL-E, shatters all notions of how a movie can be rated "G" and still retain dignity and adult themes that resonate for everyone; in this case, how love can conquer fear and how "corporatization" is ruining our quality of life. Just the opposite of what most naive people really believe.

When was the last time -- There Will Be Blood aside -- a movie featured no dialog for the first twenty minutes. Kudos to the meticulous direction of Andrew Stanton, who previously directed Finding Nemo, for keeping our eyes riveted to the screen. Seven hundred years in the future, Earth has become one gigantic junkyard thanks in part to the "Wal-Mart"-like corporation "Buy N Large," and in doing so has forced man to colonize in space on a gigantic cruise ship where grossly overweight humans hover, flitting from one inane activity to another on their gravity-free La-Z-Boys, completely distracted by their visual date screens, yet woefully detached from each other. All of their needs are fulfilled by robots for everything. And ultimately it's robots that steer them back to humanity and an organic life again.

WALL-E, an acronym for "Waste Allocation Load Lifter-Earth-Class," is the lone trash compacting robot left to clean up humanity's trash. All of his years alone have left him to be one curious little robot, and rummaging around the giant trash heaps affords him one cool 20th century tschakes collection -- from a battered Rubik's Cube to his much beloved nightly viewing of a Betamax tape version of Hello Dolly jacked into his video iPod. The usage of Hello Dolly footage to help the lonely robot program emotion into his circuitry is just one of many clever pop culture references that had the entire audience let out a audible collective "ahhhh." I agree with a fellow critic who suggested that there is so much going on in this movie that you can't possibly take it all in in one viewing. No doubt it will be dissected by film critics and fans for years to come.

But more than the eye-popping detail in the animation, this is a movie that tugs on your heart and soul. No easy feat for CGI-driven eye candy. My young daughter certainly felt WALL-E's loneliness and rooted for this "little engine that could." In fact, one could feel the entire theater rooting for his unrequited love to finally be consummated with his new girlfriend EVE, AKA "Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator." (EVE was designed by Apple's behind-the-scenes design guru Johnny Ive and is more than pod-like.) Without spoon feeding you the entire narrative, she is deployed to Earth to search for life. And even though the first act of the movie does borrow a narrative element from the second half of Spielberg's criminally misunderstood SciFi masterpiece A.I., the movie unfurls to a satisfying and redemptive ending. Plus a heady, mixed bag score by Thomas Newman and Peter Garbriel's gorgeous "Down To Earth" to accompany a very clever epilogue during the closing credits. ]

If you care about your future, take your children and help them free themselves of all that could ultimately consume them.