Fresh from the Festivals: November 2008's Reviews

Within the world of animation, most experimentation occurs in short-format productions, whether they are high-budgeted commercials, low-budgeted independent shorts or something in-between. The growing number of short film festivals around the world attests to the vitality of these works, but there are few other venues for their exhibition, and are they rarely reviewed. As a result, distribution tends to be difficult and irregular. On a regular basis, Animation World Magazine will highlight some of the most interesting of these films.

This month:

Drux Flux (2008), 4:45, directed by Theodore Ushev (Canada). Contact: Johanne St-Arnauld, Director General, Distribution, National Film Board of Canada. [T] 514-283-2703 [F] 514-496-1895 [W] www.nfb.ca [1] [E] customerservice@nfb.ca [2]

The Old, Old, Very Old Man (2007), 6:38, directed by Elizabeth Hobbs (U.K.). Contact: Elizabeth Hobbs, Spellbound Animation. [W] www.spellboundanimation.co.uk [3] [E] lizzy@spellboundanimation.co.uk [4]

Sandbox (2006), 3:10, directed by Avi Ofer (Israel). Contact: [W] www.aviofer.com [5] [E] aviofer@gmail.com [6]

The Waif of Persephone (2006), 12:17, directed by Nick Cross (Canada). Contact: Nick Cross, Do It For Me Productions, 1618 Fisher Avenue, Ottawa, Ontario, K2C1X6, Canada [T] 613-228-7253 [W] www.pyatyletka.com [7], pyatyletka.blogspot.com [E] nick@pyatyletka.com [8]

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Drux Flux
Whether by accident or design, the short films that appear in any given month's "Fresh from the Festivals" column often follow patterns. This month, for example, everyone seems to have been given the prompt: "The world is doomed, but we've still got to live in it."

Theodore Ushev [10]'s Drux Flux presents a dystopian look at industrialism and its role in modern life. The short opens with a printing press, which Ushev uses to present the film's opening titles. That scene gives way, through a quick cut, to an elevated train, which gives way to a cityscape, which gives way to the interior of a building, then to the building's inner workings. The cuts are rapid, and the fast pace is maintained throughout the film.

The quick cuts follow the rise and fall of industry, accompanied by an increasingly cacophonous soundtrack, courtesy of composer Alexander Mossolov. Scenes from Soviet propaganda posters are juxtaposed with the clashing of gears and girders, culminating in a clip-art style human skeleton reinforced with building materials, yet still unable to support itself. The result is like a nightmare brought about by reading a stack of Architectural Digest while listening to an off-speed recording of Verdi's Anvil Chorus.

Ushev drew his inspiration for the film from a variety of sources. Philosopher Herbert Marcuse's One-Dimensional Man is cited as his starting point, with his exploration of the ideological and artistic excesses of the 20th century. Ushev's travels through abandoned industrial areas of Germany made a deep impression upon him. One building was an "enormous body of metal and rust. It smelled of rotting death. I suddenly thought: Where we are going? What will happen when the industrial world reaches its end?"

Despite the film's "documentary" appearance, it is animated through a series of digital stills, manipulated with After Effects [11], Adobe Flash and Adobe Photoshop. Additional drawings on paper were scanned and composited with the still images, and the camera shaking affects were created with DFT plug-ins. No actual video footage was used in production of the short.

The editing and art direction of Drux Flux are incredible, and Ushev's film captures exactly the mood and message that he set out to achieve. It's an outstanding effort, stylish and very technically accomplished.

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The animation in The Old, Old, Very Old Man [12] is as simple as animation can be, but the method of animation suits the subject matter and storytelling approach perfectly. © Elizabeth Hobbs/Spellbound Animation.

The Old, Old, Very Old Man
The second film in this month's lineup also deals with death, although with a much more reserved, "this happens to everyone" sort of approach.

The Old, Old, Very Old Man relates the true story of Thomas Parr, who was summoned by King Charles I in the hopes that he would reveal the secret of his longevity to the king.

At the time, Parr was 152-years-old.

Parr refused multiple invitations from Charles, not wanting to make the long journey from his home to London. Eventually, the King's entreaties wore down Parr's resistance, and Parr undertook the long journey, accompanied by the King's loyal soldiers.

Upon Parr's arrival, Charles was so taken by him that he ordered an immediate celebration of Parr's life… a celebration that, ironically, led to Parr's death.

The animation in The Old, Old, Very Old Man is as simple as animation can be. Director Elizabeth Hobbs animated the film using blue ink manipulated on a single white bathroom tile. She drew inspiration from Holland's Delft tiles, reflecting their spare, simple decorative style. Hobbs would capture a frame, erase the animated portion of the tile, painted the next sequence in the motion, capture the frame, and so on. When a shot was completed, she would wipe the tile clean and start on the next one. The only surviving artifact from the film's production is a slightly scratched white tile.

The images were captured using stop-motion and edited using Final Cut Pro, and there was no post-production, except that the shots were graded once the film had been edited. It's a very spare, simple production, but the method of animation suits the subject matter and storytelling approach perfectly. It's very subdued and straightforward, much like Thomas Parr must have been.

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The drawing style in Sandbox [13] is very simple, which makes the story all the more compelling. It also makes it easier for viewers to relate to the characters. © Avi Ofer.

Sandbox
The third film in this month's "FFF" continues the "doomed world" theme in Avi Ofer [14]'s short Sandbox, which tells the tale of "a typical day at the playground interrupted."

A boy and a girl are playing on a swing set as a smaller girl observes. A small missile makes its way onscreen and obliterates the swinging girl as her companions watch, relatively unaffected by the destruction. The discorporated girl becomes a spectral angel, and she lazily drifts by a sandbox, where another child meets his fate, also in the form of an errant missile. He becomes an angel as well, drifts along to another venue and so on. It would be tragic if it weren't so funny, but at the same time, it would be funny if it weren't so tragic.

Ofer's drawing style is very simple, just a few steps beyond stick figures in the level of detail, which makes the story all the more compelling and makes it that much easier for viewers to relate to his characters. If the figures were any simpler, we'd feel no more sympathy for them than we would for any of the disposable characters that populate any number of Don Hertzfeldt [15] shorts, and if the figures were any more complicated, we'd feel too emotionally attached to them to watch one innocent bystander after another reduced to atoms as unseen, unstoppable forces set upon them.

The film moves at quick clip, which is not surprising, given Ofer's approach to Sandbox. He came up with the overall plot of the film a few weeks before the second Lebanon war started. There was no storyboard or written script used at any point during the creation of the film, and the story was more or less "improvised" (if you can do such a thing when you're illustrating a story one frame at a time), with no editing and no revisions or clean-up along the way. Artwork was created directly on a Wacom [16] tablet, and Flash 4.0 software was used to animate the film.

It's a very "down and dirty" way to animate, and the film shows it. It's an uncomplicated look at a complicated issue, but the end result is thoroughly engaging and entertaining.

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The Waif of Persephone [17] sounds bleak, but it is an absolute blast. Inspired by Fleischer Studios and Van Beuren Studios cartoons, the results look like Kricfalusi and Bill Wray partied with Aesop. © Nick Cross.

The Waif of Persephone
The final film in this installment of "FFF" also deals with human nature, and the probability that man will mess up just about anything, if given the opportunity. This notion is hardly a recent invention, as proven by The Waif of Persephone, which borrows its plot from Greek mythology.

Director Nick Cross created this cartoon as a narrative experiment, attempting to tell a story without dialogue, and to bring a story thousands of years old into the modern era through the language of cartoons. The animation is traditional 2D, drawn on paper and then finalized in Flash.

From the outset, Cross lets his audience know that this story is not for the faint of heart, as the ominous title credits appear onscreen accompanied by a suitably bombastic opening score. After that portentous introduction, a group of jolly forest elves create new life by planting a seed in the ground. The pixiesque yet sexy Persephone is born, and she celebrates her newfound life by magically causing plants to grow wherever she travels. Every creature in the forest, great and small, loves her.

Persephone's actions draw attention from the underworld, unfortunately, and she soon finds herself trapped by the devil himself. The elves vow to rescue her, but must make certain compromises to do so. And the consequences of those compromises affect the entire planet for all of time, forever.

Yes, it sounds like a bleak myth, and that description isn't likely to make you rush out to see this, but this film is an absolute blast. Cross draws inspiration from 1930s Fleischer Studios and Van Beuren Studios cartoons, and the result looks like John Kricfalusi [18] and Bill Wray partied with Aesop and jammed on a 12-minute short. The character designs are terrific, the animation is snappy, and the plot twists range from the deliberately melodramatic to the even-more-deliberately absurd. It's highfalutin and low-brow at the same time, and I find myself hoping that Cross returns to the 1930s by way of Ancient Greece (or vice versa) in the near future.

Andrew Farago [19] is the gallery manager and curator of San Francisco's Cartoon Art Museum [20] and the creator of the weekly online comic serial The Chronicles of William Bazillion [21].