The Low Down
What comes across most effectively in the book is Beckerman's love of the field, and his desire to share the affection he has for his career with those new to it. Those looking for a glossy, richly-illustrated Hyperion volume should be aware that Beckerman's book is structured and executed as a textbook, and its visual style reflects this: the artwork inside (mostly by the author himself) is simple and direct, but decidedly low-tech. The illustrations serve the same purpose as a teacher's sketches on a blackboard, and they are often as rough. The book's primary audience is young filmmakers at the college level: as such it looks and feels like a course guide, which is what it is. The difference between this and other college texts is that the written portions of Beckerman's book are witty, playful and easy to get through. What this book has that many others lack is the author's trademark sense of gentle humor. Those who've known Howard will find his personality and affability intact within his chapters. This informality elevates what might have been something dry and intimidating. The course covers so much ground, but the book's structure dictates that information may be assimilated in individual chapters, much in the way a college education in animation is broken down into classes.

There's been much discussion lately about the longevity of traditional hand-drawn animation: many people have predicted that the recent failure of some traditional "cel"-animated films has sounded the death knell for this type of production. Howard's book comes at an interesting time for the industry, and for independent animators. Is there anyone out there who still has a passion and an interest in this kind of home-grown filmmaking? How many people are receiving an education in the kind of animation technique Howard offers in his book? Not enough, by the look of things. It might be argued that much of the animation in recent computer-generated films lacks the sensitivity, artistry and organic qualities that made the classics of twenty and thirty years ago such works of commercial art. In the race toward polished graphics and ever more sophisticated imagery, something of the art behind the art has been lost along the way. It's obvious Richard Williams has felt this as well: his book, it must be admitted, covers much the same material as does Beckerman's. Any serious student of animation should have both books, to my way of thinking. Williams' book focuses on the mechanics of drawing: walks, for instance, and the principles of follow-through. It's a book for people who want to be animators. Beckerman's book is for those who want to make their own films, and want to know how, from concept to editing. Along the way, the author discusses animation drawing, but also examines issues of humor, taste, culture, mythology, history and commentary.

Animation, The Whole Story is an admirable attempt to put the art and the structure back into animation instruction. If you already know a lot about animation, and you're looking for something dramatic and colorful on the subject, I'd recommend Canemaker's Walt Disney's Nine Old Men, but if you're new to animation, and you want to know how it's done, Howard's book is the one. It's one of the best introductions to animation production and technique in a long while.

Animation, The Whole Story by Howard Beckerman. Mattituck, New York: Amereon House, 2001. 224 pages. ISBN: 848808673-3

Richard Gorey graduated with a degree in animation from the School of Visual Arts in Manhattan. He has written film comment for the ASIFA newsletter (east coast) and is the author of the book The Great Rabbit Rip-off, as well as several screenplays. During Gorey's career at Young & Rubicam, he was a creative director and animator for such clients as Johnson & Johnson, Citibank, Hallmark, and Philip Morris.