Anima Mundi 2005. Festival catalog cover artwork and opening video animated by Joanna Quinn. Image courtesy of Anima Mundi.

In its 13th year, Anima Mundi is the largest annual animation festival in South America. It’s so big, in fact, that it happens in two shifts — 10 days in coastal Rio de Janeiro (8-17 July), and then the crew packs everything up for inland São Paulo for another week (20-24 July). The festival, as a whole, is well established and well regarded throughout the region, with most screenings sold out in advance. (Even when meeting Brazilians abroad, they often seem to know about Anima Mundi, nodding appreciatively.) It’s said that some 94,000 people attended this year!

For our part, we only spent our time in Rio, so we can’t report on the sprawling, endless city of São Paulo. But Rio is its own reward, its own kind of place. It is a city of multicolored contrasts, of natural beauty juxtaposed with abiding poverty. Tucked into the dramatically verdant landscape, and spitting distance from the heavily touristed beachfront, are the favelas (shanty towns), made popular in the violent live-action film City of God (2002). Especially at night, it is understood that one navigates the streets with caution.

Still, for anyone who comes to Brazil, it is an immediately enchanting experience. At this time of year, in the southern hemisphere, it is “winter.” The locals may complain of the cold water, but for those from more northerly latitudes, the season was downright delightful. More remarkable, however, was the pedestrian life of Rio, the sense of community among strangers. It was not uncommon for us to ask directions, and the people, even if they did not speak English, went out of their way to help. (It really is amazing what folks can communicate with a kind of primitive, universal sign language.)

This is, in a nutshell, the “carioca custom.” In many major cities, people are sequestered in their own little world. Brazil is an inverse of western acculturation. The carioca are considered the natives of Rio, but it is more a frame of mind than place. People seem light in spirit, happy, receptive and friendly. Never before have I seen such confidence in people’s eyes — men, women and children. The people of Brazil are a gorgeous amalgam of black, white and golden. They are completely comfortable in their own bodies, freely displaying all of their god-given beauty.

A few of the visiting animators expressed their profound enjoyment for the city — how it feels alive and genuine… how they will miss being there… how they wished to stay in Rio, if only a livelihood in animation could be possible for them.

Since its inception, the festival has encouraged much interest in animation and, as a result, more and more people are finding expression in the medium. Eventually, as if by some law of gravity, the festival may be an impetus for studios taking root, sustaining themselves on commercial work and building a foundation for larger independent projects. The process seems as inevitable as day follows night.

By the end of the week, many of us had caught the animator “bug” in more than one way. (We were plum-tuckered tired with some kind of weird Amazon flu, or so it seemed.) The children’s workshops were a real treat, seeing the enthusiasm of fledgling animators as they brought life to drawings on film, cutout pictures, stop-motion puppets, sand and their own pixilation. (Kids were waiting in line to participate in the workshops.) Another highlight of the week was Sara Barbas, an animator from Aardman who demonstrated the techniques and models for working on the studio’s forthcoming feature, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.

The grand venue for Anima Mundi, with several small cinemas to its credit, was the Centro Cultural do Banco do Brasil in downtown Rio. A relatively short walk or taxi ride away, or by underground metro, was also the Cinelandia park plaza with its Odeon theater (where it seemed there was “better” projection and film quality). This latter location also happened to be where the volunteer party was hosted on Friday night, with people pawing each other, swigging libations and sucking face.