Among the weapons in Griffin’s arsenal of linguistic violence is the c-word, which still retains a taboo aura in polite discourse, particularly in classrooms with speech codes, if not in literary novels and theater.

Despite his success at festivals, Griffin isn’t confident that his new film will be received well by the animation world. “I think ‘our’ little community may reject It Pains Me primarily because it's so full of talking — not enough visual stimulation. It may work best for an audience of psychotherapists, or Christian fundamentalists to confirm their conviction that our society is going to hell in a handbag.”

Unfortunately, Griffin might be right. It is a film filled with yappy, annoying characters. The main character, Ken, is a wimp and everyone else is, Griffin admits, “pretty creepy.” Unlike many animation films, there’s nothing firm to grab hold of. For the film’s shifting designs and techniques, Griffin uses a mix of techniques ranging from crayon to computer. Again, this is nothing new to those familiar with Griffin’s work. He has never felt the need to use a single technique.

While the approach serves as an apt extension of the notion that identity is always changing, Griffin’s use of multiple techniques and designs is also an acknowledgement of the history of animation. (He even uses a clip from an old Harmon and Ising film called Sunshine Makers.) “There's a lot of historical baggage we bring to making art and living,” adds Griffin. “You can either deny the flavors and odors of this stuff or weave them into the work. I'm not too compelled to help the viewer by obeying all the rules of consistency and logic.”

It’s too early to gauge the accuracy of Griffin’s dour predictions about reactions to It Pains Me To Say This, but, for his part, he’s ready for the critics. “I say bring it on. Multiple interpretations are more than welcome and the excitement of debate is what I do wish would happen more at festivals.”

Griffin is right too. Animation festivals have routinely failed as forums for meaningful discussions and debates about animation. Perhaps It Pains Me To Say This will finally get them talking.

Chris Robinson has been with the Ottawa International Animation Festival since 1991. A noted animation critic, curator and historian, he has become a leading expert on Canadian and international independent animation. His acclaimed OIAF programming has been regarded as both thoughtful and provocative. In May 2004, Robinson was the recipient of the President’s Award given by the New York chapter of animators for contributions to the promotion of independent animation.

His books include Between Genius and Utter Illiteracy: A Story of Estonian Animation, Ottawa Senators: Great Stories from the NHL’s First Dynasty, Unsung Heroes of Animation, Great Left Wingers and Stole This From a Hockey Card: A Philosophy of Hockey, Doug Harvey, Identity & Booze.

An anthology of Robinson’s Animation Pimp columns will be published in 2006. He is working on Fathers of Night, a novel about angels, devils and everything in-between. Robinson lives in Ottawa with his wife, Kelly, and son, Jarvis.