Jeu's influences include the drawings of M.C. Escher, fractals, Russian nesting dolls and French Impressionist paintings, among other sources. © 2007 National Film Board of Canada.

Jeu
From start to finish, Jeu certainly lives up to its name. An astonishing exercise in animation, the viewers and animators alike get caught up in a nonstop guessing game as the subject matter of this short film constantly shifts and reinvents itself over the course of four minutes.

Filmmaker Georges Schwizgebel created over 400 acrylic and oil paintings for this film, cycling and recycling them throughout to create a very fluid and very fast-moving series of transformations. A series of blocks moves across a plain background to form the word “Jeu” (“Game”). Those blocks become boxes, boxes become playing fields, fields give way to children playing, children become paintings and so on, until we arrive at the dizzying crescendo of a full-fledged orchestra performing Serge Prokofiev’s second piano concerto, which leads to the only still moments in the entire film… just before the entire film turns back and envelops itself in reverse at more than twice the speed at which the entire series of events had unfolded in the first place.

Drawing influence from the drawings of M.C. Escher, fractals, Russian nesting dolls and French Impressionist paintings, among other sources, Schwizgebel set out to challenge himself as much as possible in producing this film, and seems to have thrived on each of the obstacles that he created for himself. The film itself consists of nine animated cycles of one-and-a-half seconds each, with each cycle consisting of 36 images, with each transformation timed to correspond to the tempo of the film’s soundtrack. The destruction and reconstruction of each segment appears relatively seamless throughout the film largely due to the never-ceasing pattern of transformations throughout.

The creation of believable, plausible scene-to-scene transitions in any animated film is difficult, and animators tend to apply them infrequently due to the challenges involved in using them effectively. To deliberately create a piece of animation that consists of nothing but transitional shots is impressive enough in itself; that Schwizgebel succeeds so well in doing so is astonishing.

Many questions are raised by Madame Tutli-Putli, but few are answered during the course of this strange and existential journey. © 2007 National Film Board of Canada.

Madame Tutli-Putli
Perhaps the most unsettling of this month’s "FFF" selections is the Academy Award-nominated Madame Tutli-Putli, produced by the heralded National Film Board of Canada. The film opens as the titular character and all of her earthly possessions await a passenger train as she sets off on a mysterious journey to parts unknown.

The trip starts innocently enough, as the timid Madame Tutli-Putli surveys the bizarre characters who share her journey, but her unease grows steadily throughout the first scene aboard the train. An odd little boy reads a book entitled How to Handle Your Enemies as his ancient grandfather sits passively by his side; two chess aficionados engage in a pitched battle for supremacy as the train’s own instability plays a larger role in their contest than their actual gaming abilities; and a famed tennis player’s unwelcome sexual advances within such close quarters cause Tutli-Putli great discomfort as she braces herself for the uncertain night ahead.

As the train brakes for a brief period of respite and all of the passengers settle in for a good night’s sleep, three strange visitors come aboard, and their intentions are pure evil. They unleash an eerie green mist througout the train, immobilizing all on board as they spirit away, for reasons known only to themselves, all of the valuables -- and all of the passengers -- on board, save for Madame Tutli-Putli herself. Why is she spared the fate of the other passengers? What was the purpose of the intruders’ visit? What is the mysterious vision that causes Tutli-Putli’s transformation from victimhood to self-assurance at film’s end? Many questions are raised by this film, but few are answered through the course of this strange and existential journey.

While the film’s story may not prove satisfactory to all viewers, few will deny the power of the imagery and artistry that are on display in Madame Tutli-Putli. The National Film Board of Canada’s groundbreaking and innovative use of stop-motion animation with digital effects produces one fascinating scene after another. Masterful lighting and the innovative use of camera angles combine for many memorable shots, and the all-too-realistic eyes of each character create an uncanny and unsettling feeling of tension as we witness Tutli-Putli’s struggles to comprehend the wonder and the menace of the world around her.