To really understand this medium, we have to come back to this point over and over again: the control we exercise in animation doesn’t end with the concept or with the nature of the hero or with the rules. We can go much further, defining not just the length of the alleyway but its physical properties, as well. So do we create what appears to be a real alley or do we imply a location by a rectangle that defines the idea of a wall and a grid that implies a fence?

Or do we decide to do away with defined locations altogether and have the film play out in a malleable white void — one minute as flat as a sheet of paper and next minute, infinitely deep?

Going even further, we need to be in control of the physical structure of the film itself, but do we have to use live-action sequence structure? Do we even have to use shots or pretend that there is a camera? Is there anything stopping us from developing an entirely new kind of animation film grammar?

There is no right or wrong answer to these questions. The reality is: it depends. Depends? On what? On the nature of the content, on the underlying analogy, on the stylistic strengths of the filmmaker, on the particular technique that is being used. Regardless, though, the first answer to any of these questions is always: whatever it needs to be.

These are not our only challenges. Technology has almost fulfilled Disney’s desire to make animated films that look like live-action films and so, we are entering an era where little brother animation is beginning to show some muscle with its much bigger sibling, live action.

The imagery in Amelie had a very whimsical animated look and feel. © 2001 - Miramax Films - All rights reserved.

When live-action films begin to include significant amounts of digital animation, they become de facto animated films. Live-action folks keep making the mistake of trying to simply incorporate the new techniques into live-action films when what they really have to do is start approaching them as a new hybrid of animated film.

It isn’t a coincidence that the most masterful films of this new breed so far have come from former animators such as Tim Burton and Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Amelie). This new genre is going to need a new syntax, and we are in a much better position to do this than are most live-action people.

But we won’t succeed with any of this if we stay on our present path. Kaj Pindal, a great NFB animator and teacher, once told me that being a classical animator in the 1960s and ‘70s was like being a monk in the dark ages, nurturing a little flame of knowledge till it could be passed on to a new generation.

This mission has been accomplished and now its time to work the same magic with the nature of content and communication.

To do that, we’re going to have to get a lot more serious about this subject. Yes, I know that Finding Nemo is popular. However, the lesson of Toy Story and Finding Nemo is that while the technology has gotten better, the stories are getting worse. Isn’t it more than a bit ridiculous to use evermore sophisticated technology to tell increasingly unsophisticated stories?

The good news is that much of what we need to know is just waiting for us to rediscover it and once uncovered, it will help us figure out the rest. The payoff is not only films that are more truly animated, but films that have more bang for the buck — and what could be wrong with that?

Ellen Besen studied animation at Sheridan in the early 1970s. Since then she has directed award-winning films both independently and for the NFB, worked as a film programmer and journalist, taught storytelling and animation filmmaking at Sheridan and given story workshops at many institutions and festivals, including the Ottawa International Animation Festival. She is the director of The Zachary Schwartz Institute for Animation Filmmaking, an online school that specializes in storytelling and writing for animation.