"In over twenty years of professional work, nothing was ringing true," Cynthia Wells explains, of why she and her partner bothered to establish a virtual studio. "We wanted to do our own projects."

In working on Talullah, in muddling through the process of financing and producing the film, Geoff and Cynthia found that it was a great experience. "We didn't even necessarily know what we were doing," Cynthia remembers, "we were figuring it out as we went along." She continues, "But it was so satisfying, that was when I found the true meaning of happiness. I thought, 'This is it, this is what I'm doing now, forever and ever, I don't care if I have to go shoeless.'"

Talullah, running from the ghosts in her head, in The Shadow of Doubt. © Digital Theater Group, 2001.

Though it is generally the hope and aim for an artist to exhibit his or her work to audiences, the feeling of vulnerability in such open, public expression can be both exhilarating and terrifying. Interestingly, this undercurrent of desire and trepidation is the theme of The Shadow of Doubt, in exploring the conflict of creativity and insecurity within an artist.

"There's a creative side to everybody, and you always go through this process of self-questioning," Cynthia Wells says. "It's very exposing, it's very challenging, but it's a healthy process you have to go through."

Cynthia is interested in the theory of theater that "because a thing contains a contradiction within itself, it moves and acquires impulse and activity." She adds, "The distortions of form and shape that are necessary to achieve movement in animation are not unlike the layers of contradiction within each of us."

In addition to cultivating a unique style and voice, in creating films that are challenging and that have emotional and aesthetic appeal. "The other aspect, the reason we did all this," Cynthia says, "was just for quality of life." She asks, "Who do you want to spend your time with? Who do you want to collaborate with? At work, eight hours a day, you're spending most of your life with these people."

Historically and currently, the production pipeline has its origins in factory work. Geoff explains, "I think what you need to do is take the factory mentality out of the creative process of making a film, and bring it back to a cottage industry mentality, where you have people, as during the early part of the Industrial Revolution, making these crafts out of their homes and then collaborating at the marketplace." He suggests, "The Internet does that today. That's why we call it a virtual studio, or global village."

View a café scene from The Shadow of Doubt. © Digital Theater Group, 2001.

Given the artists' varying degrees of familiarity with the Internet and the tools involved, Geoff comments, "It really shocked me, in a way, how successful it was. We would get an email, we'd review it, we'd instantly respond, because it took two seconds to evaluate what changes or direction were needed... We'd shoot a reply back to the artists, at their desks... They'd pick it up, do their work, and say, 'Here, take a look at this.'"

In speaking to the productivity of artists working from their homes, and the possible loss of studio culture in working remotely, Cynthia remarks, "You can have virtual meetings, and exchange the same amount of information over the Internet — through emailing; the occasional trip of the director or producer to visit artists; or you can meet as a team every once in a great while."

Geoff adds, "I think there is a necessity to bond, but it doesn't have to happen on a daily basis. In fact, it sometimes gets in the way."