Within the world of animation, most experimentation occurs within short format productions, whether they are high-budgeted commercials, low-budgeted independent shorts or something in between. The growing number of short film festivals around the world attest to the vitality of these works, but there are few other venues for exhibition of them or even written reviews. As a result, distribution tends to be difficult and irregular. On a regular basis, Animation World Magazine will highlight some of the most interesting with short, descriptive overviews.

If you have the QuickTime plug-in, you can view a clip from each film by simply clicking the image.

One Man Band (2005), 4:30, directed by Andrew Jimenez and Mark Andrews (USA). Contact: [W] www.pixar.com

Badgered (2005), 7:04, directed by Sharon Colman (U.K.). Contact: [W] www.nftsfilm-tv.ac.uk

Imago (2005), 12:00, directed by Cedric Babouche (France). Contact: International Sales / Premium Films, 130 Rue de Turenne 75003, Paris / France. [T] +33 1 42 77 06 39 [E] animation@premium-films.com

The Dentist (2005), 10:00, directed by Signe Baumane (USA). Contact: Signe Baumane, 165 William St., 2nd Floor, New York, New York 10038 USA [T] (212) 577-0383 [E] signe69@earthlink.net [W] www.signebaumane.com

The Wraith of Cobble Hill (2006), 15:13, directed by Adam Parrish King (USA). Contact: Adam Parrish King, 2257 Ewing St. #4, Los Angeles, California 90039 [T] (323) 662-6140 [E] monique-adam@earthlink.net

To keep it fresh for theatrical playdates this June, Pixar is holding back clips from One Man Band — but you can watch a short teaser through March 14, 2006 at AWN’s Oscar Showcase. © Pixar Animation Studios.

One Man Band
Northern California sound collagists Negativland collect found sound like Disneyana fanatics collect theme park pins, and one of the group’s CDs contains a sample of a 1960s-era motivational speaker chirping, “You were born a salesman. Your first outcry announced your arrival to the world — and that was your very first experience in selling. You were shilling for attention!” The studios certainly know a thing or two about shilling, and Pixar is no exception: an idea that’s candidly and hilariously deconstructed in Pixar’s own short du jour, the flawlessly brilliant One Man Band.

Somewhere in a hazy mountain village in Renaissance-era Italy, there’s a deserted town square. At one end is a tall, decorative fountain, at the other a red curtain. As the sound of an orchestra tuning fades away, the curtain parts to reveal an orchestra of one. Dressed in earth tones and with stout, square features, this instrumentalist has a virtual wind ensemble of trombone, accordion, bass drum and more strapped to his body. He plays a few bars of a dour little military march in D minor to the empty piazza, all the while his upturned hat set before him just in case.

Shortly a sucker does arrive — a young moppet dressed in a purple shawl. She enters the background making a beeline for the fountain with a coin in her hand, but turns her head when the musician blaats his trombone in her direction. As she draws closer, he elaborates on his theme, plays variations and counterpoint, and winks archly at his mark.

Before she can offer up that all-important gold coin, though, from the opposite side of the plaza suddenly comes a gut-string glissando, and another pair of curtains part to reveal a second one-man-band. The competition is dressed in blues and greens, with a stringy body, round face and pointed features. Quietly at first, and then with wilder instrumentation and greater volume, he navigates a tarantella in B-flat on lute, flute and, finally, violin. The child warms to this new novelty and wanders his way. He’s working the flash even more than his counterpart — when the child is an arm’s length away, a model of the troubadour’s own head pops out of his hat to surprise and delight the child, who is nearly convinced to put her coin in his hat instead.

Brass ah-wooogas echo around the square as the first musician tries to one-up his rival. Brass man simultaneously increases tempo AND balances unicycle-like on his bass drum, but he takes a spill. String man mugs and winks. Brass man tries a smoky jazz lick. String man pulls a lever and ten violins on a T-bar expand like wings from behind each arm. Soon brass man and string man are dueling, trading eights, fours, twos; staring each other down; adding more and more instruments; modulating up step after step. When at last they reach their fortissimo climax they’ve so flummoxed the terrified little girl that she drops her single gold coin, and it rolls, rolls, rolls down the line of cobblestones to the drain and — with a distant plop — is gone forever.

Then she demands her money back. Then things get interesting. Yes, I’m leaving out the rest so you can enjoy it fresh when it plays in front of Cars in June, but know that One Man Band is a return to the kind of laughs-for-laughs-sake gag showcase that you may have missed in the years since Knick Knack had you muttering Bobby McFerrin’s refrain of “Blah blah, blah blah” on your way out of Mermaids in 1990.

Yes, it’s a 3D technical wonder, with its completely realized Flemish city atmosphere and mountain backdrop (one which, regardless, the story team know better than to show off in more than a single wide shot). It’s extremely efficient, it’s vibrantly colorful, it’s a gas. But more than that, it’s another subtle triumph for the art of character animation. If you’ve ever been assaulted by a wandering minstrel in some family-friendly FunFunTown, you’ll know right away what’s lurking behind the closed-mouth grins and belabored winking of the musicians of One Man Band: the ruthless efficiency of one who pushes all the right buttons for a living.

Which Pixar, of course, does extremely well. And this may in fact be the first time this very traditional story collective has made something that’s a meta-commentary not just on itself but on the output of an entire industry. Postmodern shilling has never been this goofy. Kudos to directors Mark Andrews and Andy Jimenez and their whole many-man-and-woman team — in particular composer Michael Giacchino, who emotionally narrates this dialogue-free short with a jumping-ducking-darting score that is making some parallel-universe Carl Stalling very happy right now.