The Animation List Discussion & Suggestions (Genre Project)

[bamwc2]

This isn't a public forum, is it?

In other news, I recently acquired the Soviet Propaganda set, but have limited time to watch it. Does anyone recommend any highlights in particular, other than Shooting Range and Songs of the Years of Fire?

I'm partial to Mister Twister. It reminded be of The Extraordinary Adventures of Mr. West in the Land of the Bolsheviks.

[matrixschmatrix]

I enjoyed the whole Nazi-related disc on that set quite a lot- I think as a set it's work I like best at its most unhinged, and some of the anti-fascist stuff gets 100% crazy.

[zedz]

This isn't a public forum, is it?

Aw shit. . . you mean I now have to proclaim domino's undying devotion to Batty's rap on Twitter or something?

EDIT: Oh, I'm terribly sorry for that grievous error. Let's try again:


Aw shit. . . you mean I now have to proclaim domino's undying devotion to Batty's rap on Twitter or something?

[bamwc2]

I enjoyed the whole Nazi-related disc on that set quite a lot- I think as a set it's work I like best at its most unhinged, and some of the anti-fascist stuff gets 100% crazy.

Oh yes, I forgot all about those. They are indeed insane.

[matrixschmatrix]

Ponyo

I'm going to disagree with Dansu Dansu Dansu on this one- I thought it held together quite well, and I really enjoyed it. Specifically, I don't think there's any real darkness to it to contradict the bright optimism of the tone; we're specifically told that the tsunami is a micro-typhoon, apparently only affecting whatever tiny island we're on, and that everyone on the island is ok, so I don't think there are any real consequences to Ponyo's weather event. Then too, I think the little adventure she and Sosuke have on the boat is meant to be a scene of pure joy and exploration, rather than any part of a test; the test is whether Sosuke can really love something that's not human as he would normally recognize it, which he does without question. The scenes of Ponyo and Sosuke running around acting like little kids during the storm were absolutely adorable and nearly on par with Totoro in their observational beauty, and the scenes of Ponyo running on the fish waves to keep pace with the car were visionary in a way that nearly matches something like Mononoke.

That said, I do think it's probably not in the absolute top tier of Miyazaki works- it doesn't quite have the resonance of a Totoro, and the utter sunniness of the tone perhaps denies it a deeper subtext. I didn't feel like I was watching something meant for tiny kids exclusively, though, and I think I liked it as well or better than Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle- I think, so far, that I have genuinely enjoyed every single work of Miyazaki's that I've seen.

[movielocke]

Working my way through disc 1 of looney tunes golden collection 1 (I didn't think I needed to rebuy the bluray/platinum collections, but seeing the difference between these older DVDs and the gorgeous Tom and Jerry set, I think I may have to, after I finally finish watching all 24 discs of the golden collection (having only watched 8 of said discs over the years), I just came across the first cartoon that is a masterpiece, and will definitely be on my list: High Diving Hare. This is an absolutely fantastic piece of work from Freleng, the repetition, the timing, the inventiveness of the gags, and the incredible use of animation 'logic' and rules, and what an absolutely fantastic final punchline,

Spoiler

Bugs: "I know this defies the law of gravity, but I never studied law."

[zedz]

Ponyo

I'm going to disagree with Dansu Dansu Dansu on this one- I thought it held together quite well, and I really enjoyed it. Specifically, I don't think there's any real darkness to it to contradict the bright optimism of the tone; we're specifically told that the tsunami is a micro-typhoon, apparently only affecting whatever tiny island we're on, and that everyone on the island is ok, so I don't think there are any real consequences to Ponyo's weather event. Then too, I think the little adventure she and Sosuke have on the boat is meant to be a scene of pure joy and exploration, rather than any part of a test; the test is whether Sosuke can really love something that's not human as he would normally recognize it, which he does without question. The scenes of Ponyo and Sosuke running around acting like little kids during the storm were absolutely adorable and nearly on par with Totoro in their observational beauty, and the scenes of Ponyo running on the fish waves to keep pace with the car were visionary in a way that nearly matches something like Mononoke.

That said, I do think it's probably not in the absolute top tier of Miyazaki works- it doesn't quite have the resonance of a Totoro, and the utter sunniness of the tone perhaps denies it a deeper subtext. I didn't feel like I was watching something meant for tiny kids exclusively, though, and I think I liked it as well or better than Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle- I think, so far, that I have genuinely enjoyed every single work of Miyazaki's that I've seen.

I'm pretty much on the same page as you. The kids-eye view stuff in the film, and the sheer wonder of the flooded world, is as astute and visionary as anything Miyazaki has done. I find the overarching plot mechanics (the wizard stuff) a bit clunky and uninvolving, and that's what knocks the film down a notch for me.

[matrixschmatrix]

Working my way through disc 1 of looney tunes golden collection 1 (I didn't think I needed to rebuy the bluray/platinum collections, but seeing the difference between these older DVDs and the gorgeous Tom and Jerry set, I think I may have to, after I finally finish watching all 24 discs of the golden collection (having only watched 8 of said discs over the years), I just came across the first cartoon that is a masterpiece, and will definitely be on my list: High Diving Hare. This is an absolutely fantastic piece of work from Freleng, the repetition, the timing, the inventiveness of the gags, and the incredible use of animation 'logic' and rules, and what an absolutely fantastic final punchline,

Spoiler

Bugs: "I know this defies the law of gravity, but I never studied law."

I've just started watching the Platinum collection, in hopes that I'll at least get enough of a grasp of the Looney Tunes world to distinguish good from great in it- but god good is Eric Goldberg terrible at audio commentaries, at least in the first couple I watched. He literally narrates every event that happens in the cartoon and adds almost nothing. Ugh.

[knives]

Goldberg much like Friedkin has earned the right to be boring though. In all this talk of collections though I hope everyone picks up the white Pink Panther set. The films are truly essential.

[matrixschmatrix]

It's probably as close to canonical as animated shorts get, but rewatching Duck Amuck for the millionth time in glorious HD, it totally holds up- the level of metafiction might cause the whole thing to break down elsewhere, but given the depth and tendency towards magical jokes of the Looney Tunes world, it fits right in. I always enjoy that, however much the medium is deconstructed- favorite gag is the doubled Daffy from the frame wandering up a bit- there's never a sense that the character of Daffy is himself a construction, just that he's a character who lives in an artificial world. Which gives the whole enterprise a sense of being a kind of existential hell, where one is forever tormented by a cruel god and one has no control even of one's own body- reinforced by the reveal that the God here is in fact Bugs Bunny, King of Assholes.

It's also spectacularly funny, of course, using the Daffy character marvelously- we expect him to lose, so it's fine that there's never any vindication of his position, but his inborn orneriness keeps the whole thing from just feeling sadistic. I suppose it stands out in part because it's so distinctive for the era- it's the kind of joke that seems like the entire concept of a Roger Rabbit, where cartoon physics are acknowledged and discussed as a major part of the plot, was borne of it, but while the wildness is always there in Looney Tunes I can't think of anything else for like thirty years in the field that's quite so Pirandello. It's the Looney Tunes cartoon people always single out as being great, but I think it stands up to it and more- it's definitely going to make my list.

[zedz]

I agree. It's sort of lazy to resort to Duck Amuck, and you feel like you're putting it on your list primarily because it's so damn memorable, rather than merely being a beautiful variation on a whole lot of other cartoons, like other Looney Tunes masterpieces - but then you watch it again and realise that it's absolutely brilliant at every level, not just in terms of conceptual ambition. And it works perfectly at all those levels too. After I showed it to my 5-year-old nephew, he'd sit down in front of the television and chant "DUCK AMUCK! DUCK AMUCK!" until I played it for him again.

[knives]

I have to say I prefer enormously Porky in Wackyland, but than I've never been as enamored with Jones as everyone else seems to be.

[matrixschmatrix]

Eh, if it helps, I'm not a huge fan of What's Opera, Doc- it seems a bit weighed down by its concept, as though Bugs' anarchic attitude can't overcome the the inertia of Wagnerian sturm and drang, and is reduced to doodling in the margins rather than transforming the whole thing into a farce. Though I think Rabbit of Seville compares very favorably, particularly in the places where Bugs is simultaneously keeping in sync with the rhythm and the melody of the music.

I think it helps for me that Bugs and Elmer are both seen wandering into the opera unintentionally in Rabbit of Seville, and Elmer isn't asked to do much more than play his normal hapless, largely passive role- in What's Opera, he's trying to be Siegfried and Elmer at the same time, and it seems to dilute his characterization a bit (in a way it never does when, say, Daffy plays Robin Hood.)

[knives]

I'd agree (Rabbit of Seville is easily my favorite Jones use of the major characters) if not for Shamus McCulhane's superior version The Barber of Seville. The only Jones with a serious chance of making my list is The Dover Boys at Pimento University or The Rivals of Roquefort Hall which is pretty much a Jay Ward cartoon.

[bamwc2]

Some recent viewings:

Chico and Rita (Tono Errando, et al., 2010): Although I didn't catch it upon its initial release (becoming a parent the previous year will put an end to your trips to the theater), I'm glad to have caught up with it now. This luscious rotoscoped gem tells the story of a pair of ill-fated lovers who achieve a degree of fame in Batista's Cuba, but find the early 60s far more turbulent. This film seems to have divided critics, but I enjoyed it despite the weak bookends to the story. The music was great, the heart of the story compelling, and the use of animation to tell a thoroughly adult story won me over. It'll probably find a way on to my final list.

Kirikou and the Wild Beasts (Michel Ocelot and Bénédicte Galup, 2005): I hadn't even realized that Ocelot had made a sequel to one of my personal favorites, Kirikou and the Sorceress, until a short time ago. It looks there was even a 2012 sequel as well, but it hasn't hit the states yet. This one is told concurrently with the original Kirikou feature with the title character's grandfather narrating a series of his further exploits against the misguided sorceress and her fetishes. Like the other film, the young Kirikou never resorts to violence and instead uses his wits and reasoning to solve his problems. I really think that these are perfect films to share with young children. If there the films had an English dubbing, I would have shared them with him already.

The Nightmare Before Christmas (Henry Selick, 1993): I'm not sure how this one slipped by me upon its initial release, but I've now finally watched it. Jack Skellington, the king of Halloweentown and the film's protagonist, attempts to take over Christmas in a misguided effort to help Santa and relieve his growing ennui. It's a pleasant enough excursion, but didn't strike me as any deeper or longer lasting than your average confection. Perhaps it would have had a greater impact on me if I had caught it upon its initial release, but having seen similar and superior films like Coraline and Paranorman, I doubt that I'll think about it often.

The Secret World of Arrietty (Hiromasa Yonebayashi, 2010): My wife and I watched this together last night and my reaction is somewhat mixed. Written by Hayao Miyazaki from Mary Norton's YA novel, the film follows Shawn and his interactions with a group of little people living in fear under the floorboards of his grandmother's house. In my appraisal, it falls under Studio Ghibli's "good, not great" category with an entertaining story, but little to take away. In particular I did enjoy the early seen of the "borrowing" with Arrietty and her father, Pod. The flight through the house was fun, which not much of the rest of the film lived up to.

[karmajuice]

I have a spotlight title I'd like to share. Some more strong recommendations will follow when I have more time, and a post detailing some recent viewings.

Eine murul (Breakfast on the Grass), by Priit Pärn: This astounding Estonian animation follows four different characters as they struggle through the daily mundanities, compromises, and humiliations of life under Soviet rule. The film is not widely known -- perhaps because Pärn's absurdities and symbols prove challenging, and because the film is, like of Pärn's work, deliberately ugly -- but I doubt I've ever seen a more distinctive depiction of Soviet block life, nor a more scathing one. Zedz recommended Pärn's Hotel E earlier (my second favorite of his, which might also place on my list), but between the two I fall in favor of Breakfast on the Grass: it manages to encompass a broader spectrum while remaining totally unified, and the manic world it depicts is so vivid and unique that it left an indelible impression on me.
A pretty good copy is on youtube; it has no subtitles, but the rare instances of dialogue are incidental (the girl in the third segment mostly points out things she sees, and the taxi driver says something about the price of petrol dropping in France; the epigraph at the opening translates to this: "We dedicate this film to artists who went as far as they were allowed.").
You can view it here, all in one piece.

[matrixschmatrix]

Rewatching Toy Story, I think I put my finger on something that had always sort of bugged me about it- the underlying premise. Essentially, the toys are meant to exist for the sake of their relationship with Andy, and everything that motivates them is put in terms of how it will affect that relationship. Moreover,as much as we see the joy that playing with his toys bring to Andy, the fact that he can't see them as alive means that the relationship is more or less totally one sided, and that it's actually kind of hard to see what the toys are getting out of it. It's inherent to the idea that toys are alive, of course, but I think that sort of issue was also handled in Monster's Inc- there, the underlying premise is also something that comes off as unpleasant, but our heroes lead what amounts to a revolution to overturn that.

I think what particularly bothers me in the first one is how much the relationship with Andy is explained in terms of a romantic relationship, where it feels like a lost episode of Big Love in which sister wife Woody must understand that Andy's love is big enough to encompass them all- the jealous lover motif is something that Woody plays throughout the first two acts, and at the turning point of his relationship with Buzz he pretty explicitly explains his jealousy in terms of his envy of Buzz's shiny, impressive body. Then too, the relationship with Andy is one of ownership, where it's a mark of pride to be branded by your owner- which is charming when you think of the characters as inanimate objects given life by what the child puts into them, but unsettling when you think of them as independent, sentient beings. Since the movie centers around Buzz's existential crisis in realizing that he is a toy, and not a being with his own purpose, it sticks out to the point that I had a hard time ignoring it.

It's still a likable movie, certainly- the animation is really remarkable for 1996, which comes through all the more strongly every time we see the dog, who looks terrible in comparison to the toys. I'd forgotten how much the gang of toys get shunted to the wayside for most of this one, which deprives it of a lot of the charm their voice actors bring, but what we do get is pretty golden (I particularly enjoyed Wallace Shawn, and the line "Oh no! Now I have guilt!") My recollection is that the series gets better as it goes- I feel as though the basic discomfort inherent to the idea of living for someone else is alleviated through the approach the sequels take, and we spend more time with the characters having adventures and less time with the petty bickering that seems to take up the lion's share here.

[colinr0380]

Of course like everyone else I'm very impressed by the Toy Story films. Although it is strange how Andy seems like a blank, almost unlikeable, figure through the films - fickle and perhaps undeserving of the love of his toys (who often seem to be like substitute parent figures, or at least very attentive babysitters, in their concerns for their owner's feelings while simultaneously being used and discarded at whim). In a strange way the adult human characters (and the nasty neighbour kid from the first film), while often more grotesquely characterised and with all of their alterior motives, get fleshed out more, while you never really get much of an insight into the relationship Andy has with his own toys, except what the toys themselves infer. Which I guess neatly ties into your 'abusive relationship' theory matrix (something which I don't think I'm going to be able to get past whenever I watch the films now!)

This isn't really a new concept but I remember it really hitting me in the run up to the second film that the promotion and marketing was targeted just as much to win over adults to get them to buy the Christmas toy du jour (the 'jour' being around 1999) Buzz Lightyear doll for their kids, as well as taking them to the film (although this increased cynicism on my part might just be a byproduct from my grumpiness that I was too far too old for toys at that stage and had to bite my lip as my father bought the Buzz Lightyear toy for his goddaughter instead!)

But that feeds into a feeling that the Toy Story films aren't really kids films despite their setting, but more ones that appeal to adults, especially adults who long threw away (or lost, or had their toys thrown away by despairing parents wondering when their son would grow up and finally get a job) wanting to return to a nostalgic childhood bedroom. A fully stocked, almost curated, bedroom full of toys from all eras such as the cowboy, the Etch-a-Sketch, the army men, Mr Potato Head and so on, with the modern space toy just being the next generation to join the ranks. But a 'safe' 'dangerous' toy compared to electronic gadgets and computer games that even I had in my bedroom at 8 or 9 years old, but which wouldn't exactly fit in with the idea of 'community' that is being created from the interaction of physical objects (objects which all have their particular defined function, or special powers, and which often end up affirming standard modes of behaviour and gender roles, creating a dysfunctional mirror society to emulate the wider one).

There we go, I think we've successfully sucked all of the fun and wonder out of that series of films!

[matrixschmatrix]

Reading about the second one, it sounds as though Disney quite literally put the marketing first- as in, Pixar was forced to redo the movie on an absurd schedule after Disney assigned some other team to do one that came out poorly (by Pixar's standards) and refused to change the announced release date because all of the toy companies and so forth had already started work. It's actually pretty remarkable that it's not a total piece of garbage, given the production history.

In thinking about why the relationship with the toys seems wrong to me here some more, I think the issue is that we never get the sense that the inner life they have is something that is created by the child's imagination- that they're reflections of his inner world, or something along those lines. Inasmuch as precious objects have an aura in real life, I think that's where it comes from, and it would have been interesting and somewhat less problematic if that was the tack they used for the toys- their love for Andy would have made more sense, and their need for communion with him would have taken on a sort of interesting religious overtone rather than an unpleasantly romantic one. It would have worked fairly well for the sequels, too, where the elder Andy's life lived without them would have had a sort of Silence-of-God metaphor built in.

I'm not sure of what that would mean for the characters we see who have no owner (robots? tabulae rasae?), or whose owner is someone malevolent (Sid as the demiurge, a God who creates to create agony and who must be escaped from?) but I think it would have been possible to take that route without changing too much of the basic plotting of the movies, and without making them too much further from kids' movies. As it is, they all have fully formed personalities that seem to come from their interactions with one another more than those with Andy- or, like Buzz, they come out of the box thinking they are what they represent, only to realize that they're simulacra, which is pretty unpleasant (and the idea that he's reassured by the allure of being close to Andy doesn't seem much compensation.)

[colinr0380]

I suppose that gets into the earlier Incredibles dicussion where the underlying philosophy seems to be 'you're not special, but you are an individual'. Something that the toys having an existence outside of and apart from Andy's play emphasises. With that, and your particular gifts that you bring to the group's table, being where your strength lies.

Although maybe there is also an underlying 'nature or nurture?' theme too, in the sense that you can be created (mass produced) for kind of mercenary reasons with it being pure chance of where you will end up. Is your character stronger than the environment or will it be moulded by your surroundings? Is that a form of 'personal growth' or just an adaptation to the environment you find yourself in, so as to survive? Or is your true personality, and individuality, a product of your unique experiences that take you down a path that others may never go down (or in other words there will never be another Buzz Lightyear toy with the experience of living in Andy's room, so how does that affect his relationship to other Buzz's who haven't had their 'epiphany' moments yet?)

There is also the question of what philosophical loop-the-loops do you have to make to accommodate the new realities of life that you can end up facing that shatter your previous strongly held certainties.

[swo17]

these 2 wonderfully executed shorts that mix charcoal animation and stop-motion animation to a really interesting effect.
Lucia and Luis

Those shorts were great! I should point out that, per lists project rules, the two of them combined are eligible as a single film, entitled Lucia, Luis and the Wolf.

[karmajuice]

A few more short recommendations I haven't seen mentioned, which will all place highly on my list. Most of these are under ten minutes; the longest is The Hill Farm, which is just under twenty.

The Hill Farm, by Mark Baker. I have what might be a slightly irrational love for this film. It's a simple film: it follows the lives of several characters in the countryside over the course of three days. Even the style has a rather primitive quality to it, with cartoonish figures and lots of hand-drawn textures. But he builds a very distinctive world with these modest elements, a lively one full of keen observations and a delicate sense of balance (which, needless to say, gets disrupted). The unassuming attitude of the film appealed to me, and the use of timing and sound are spot-on. I'm not sure how the rest of you will take to it, but I like it so much I nearly made it my spotlight.
Part 1
Part 2
(That's the best version I could find online, although it's a little washed out. I have a copy on my hard-drive that's a little better, and I can send it to anyone who would prefer to watch that.)

Ring of Fire, by Andreas Hykade. All of Hykade films are excellent and available for free (and in pretty good quality) via his website. It's a flash site so you'll have to navigate it yourself, but it's pretty straightforward. But Ring of Fire is one of the best contemporary animations I've seen; it uses the Western genre as a stage for a commentary on sexuality and masculinity. It's filled to the brim with vivid, suggestive imagery, and I especially love the soundtrack and the sparse, poetic voice-over.
His films The Runt and Love & Theft are also intelligent and well-crafted, but are completely different films in almost every respect.

Raoul Servais, an independent Belgian animator, has made an array of films, and in many styles. His early films feature an inventive graphical approach and a charming visual wit. Chromophobia might be my favorite of these, but I also like his more somber Sirene and the playful capitalist critique To Speak or Not to Speak. His later films use more live action and cut-out photography, and the best of these is the surreal and sinister Harpya.

[matrixschmatrix]

Toy Story 2 doesn't resolve the underlying problem I had with the first one- though it makes it a bit more mysterious, with Jessie saying that being played with makes her feel 'alive', making one wonder exactly what they mean by that in this context, and it does at least acknowledge that the relationships within the toys have an importance on par with this mysterious owner/toy one- but more importantly, it doesn't spend all that much time on it. Instead, we get lots and lots of fun ensemble adventure comedy, and a specific idea about how keeping oneself locked behind glass in hopes of staying perfect is worth less than time spent in danger and in real life, which I think tracks perfectly well regardless of whatever underlying toy issues feed into it. Woody's less of a jerk, Buzz is actually pretty fun, we get more time with Rex, and the new characters are all pretty delightful- it's a remarkably successful movie, doubly so given the production of it. The animation is almost shockingly better, too- the dog actually looks lovable and doglike, instead of a weird computer artifact, and the humans look immeasurably better. The acting on our characters is improved too: Woody was always pretty expressive, but Buzz manages to be a lot more mobile here without losing his plasticky quality, and the action scenes have a lot more character subtlety to them.

I don't think it's something likely to make my list, as it's more on the Monsters, Inc. charming-and-likable level than on the Wall-E visionary level to me, but I'm glad to have revisited it, if only to reassure me that the whole Toy Story love isn't a total mystery.

[matrixschmatrix]

A Bug's Life is charming- moreso than I remembered- though it feels much more strictly a kid's movie than most of where Pixar would head later. It's got a sort of crowded field of celebrity voices, it's got a fair number of pretty strictly comic relief characters, and the theme seems to be a note terribly complicated iteration of the believe-in-yourself moral that other kid's movies almost always have. It's a fun ride, but it doesn't feel like it goes much of anywhere.

I also kind of wonder if they intended Flik's harvester invention to lead to industrialized clear-cropping, rather than the sustainable ecosystem they started with- it feels that way, but it also feels like they just meant it to be a good idea without especially considering the consequences.

[domino harvey]

I feel a bit like Richard W in this thread-- Matrix, is there a particular reason that you seem to approach all Disney films from an indoctrination standpoint? Aren't you just selectively reading these films to fit a narrow thesis of cultural repression without considering their other, arguably more present and positive non-narrative functions?