Look, No Hands: Pixar's Killer App
By ELVIS MITCHELL
Published: April 25, 2004
OME ON THE RANGE" is only the latest example of an old-fashioned, line-drawn animated feature that lands with a thud at the box office. Like many recent hand-drawn cartoons, "Home on the Range" didn't take a lesson from Pixar: "It's all about presence, and how you enter the room," as one of the creatures in "Monsters, Inc." says. Although the statement is meant as parody especially as uttered by James Coburn, in the portentous, velveteen tones of an "Inside the Actors Studio" interview it could also refer to the way Pixar bestrides the cartooniverse these days.
Every few decades an entire field of filmmaking ends because of a single technical innovation. "The Jazz Singer" finished off silents by popularizing synchronized-sound movies. The introduction of Technicolor has been slowly choking off black-and-white pictures, with the exception of the odd music video or art-house film. And now, because of the successive digitally animated box-office winners from Pixar "Toy Story," "A Bug's Life," "Toy Story 2," "Monsters, Inc" and "Finding Nemo" hand-drawn animation seems to be on the way to theatrical obsolescence. "Home on the Range" followed the box-office duds "Sinbad," "Treasure Planet," "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron" and "Atlantis: The Lost Empire."
Even features that tried to blend pen-and-ink drawing with digital animation, like "Titan A. E.," couldn't attract audiences. So, the form that is one of America's few contributions to artistic expression, the hand-drawn cartoon, could soon go the way of the single-screen theater, the drive-in and Michael Jackson's credibility. The belief now is that kids are no longer interested in line-drawn animation features, and that computer-generated stuff is the way to go. It seems incredible that this movement away from traditional cartoons comes at a time when live-action movies are more like cartoons than ever; the trailer for the coming sci-fi film "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" (starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Jude Law) includes a scene of evil flying robots filling the skies that's lifted right out of the Fleischer brothers' gorgeous 1941 Expressionist Superman cartoon, "Mechanical Monsters."
What the leap into the hard drives of computer cartooning ignores is that the technology has been most successful in the hands of one studio: Pixar, where John Lasseter and his team of writers and animators have ingeniously and skillfully exploited the strengths of the technology in a series of films that now have a built-in audience. Surrendering the old ways of animation because of one house's success with the new would be akin to the studios' giving up on action movies because of Joel Silver's preoccupation with them and that hasn't happened yet.
Mr. Lasseter directed "Toy Story" and its sequel, "Toy Story 2," and "A Bug's Life." He and his team deserve the praise accorded Pixar; their films display both the care they invest in their creations and an apparently intuitive understanding of the cartoon. All the Pixar features share a sense of wonder, which befits onscreen figures that don't quite look real. At some point, they all gaze up at a world much grander than anything they've ever imagined that's a story point in all of the movies, and gaining an understanding of one's place in the scheme of things is the subtext of most successful fairy tales. (It also helps that most of the Pixar characters have the sleek, clean design of toys most of the creations might as well have manufacturers' names stamped on their necks.)
The protagonists in the Pixar movies approximate the naïveté of the young audiences, while the narratives of the Pixar features communicate a sophistication that makers of presumably more adult fare should envy. The last scene of "Toy Story 2," in which a pair of playthings Woody and Buzz Lightyear reflect on their adventures, their bond cemented by a good-humored weariness, wouldn't be out of place in "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon" or "Rio Bravo." When a cartoon can genuinely evoke such summary worldliness without over-emphasis, it's a tribute to the moviemaking gifts of those behind it, as well as their marrow-deep comprehension of film tradition.
Mr. Lasseter was a consultant on the English-language version of "Spirited Away," the full-length animation film from another master, Hayao Miyazaki. The Pixar creative squad imposes a consistency on its products that recalls the majestic use of mystery, comedy and fear that Mr. Miyazaki displays in his work. Another brand of savvy comes into play, too, since Mr. Lasseter has chosen to recast Pixar as a family-friendly studio. In the version of the aqua-themed short "Knick Knack" that preceded "Finding Nemo" in theaters last year, the snowman trapped in a snow globe develops a crush on a similarly housed bathing beauty who has very obviously had breast reduction surgery: in the original 1989 "Knick Knack," she had the kind of comically enhanced upper carriage that could easily win her a slot on Fox's better-beauty-through-science reality series, "The Swan." Her less-pneumatic look in the revision is surely a concession to the family trade. (Intriguingly, the time-stamp limits of the technology are evident in "Knick Knack" it looks like a screen-saver, now that its once state-of-the-art vibrancy has dated. Even the first "Toy Story" appears quaint and slightly rusty, as computer animation has become denser and richer.)
Pixar has brought more than a new technique to its films; it's brought that philosophy making awe and curiosity part of the plot without condescension as well. This is evident in looking back at all of them. And it's not so easy to imitate which will become obvious when others eventually grind out knockoffs that crash to the bottom of the box-office charts. What animation comes down to, as does any other film genre, is the vision of those making it. This is why the old-fashioned hand-drawn works, in the right hands, can still dazzle an audience, as the imaginative and fluid "Lilo and Stitch" (2002) proved. That's the lesson studios should be taking from all of this. As Mr. Lasseter knows, it's all about presence.
By ELVIS MITCHELL
Published: April 25, 2004
OME ON THE RANGE" is only the latest example of an old-fashioned, line-drawn animated feature that lands with a thud at the box office. Like many recent hand-drawn cartoons, "Home on the Range" didn't take a lesson from Pixar: "It's all about presence, and how you enter the room," as one of the creatures in "Monsters, Inc." says. Although the statement is meant as parody especially as uttered by James Coburn, in the portentous, velveteen tones of an "Inside the Actors Studio" interview it could also refer to the way Pixar bestrides the cartooniverse these days.
Every few decades an entire field of filmmaking ends because of a single technical innovation. "The Jazz Singer" finished off silents by popularizing synchronized-sound movies. The introduction of Technicolor has been slowly choking off black-and-white pictures, with the exception of the odd music video or art-house film. And now, because of the successive digitally animated box-office winners from Pixar "Toy Story," "A Bug's Life," "Toy Story 2," "Monsters, Inc" and "Finding Nemo" hand-drawn animation seems to be on the way to theatrical obsolescence. "Home on the Range" followed the box-office duds "Sinbad," "Treasure Planet," "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron" and "Atlantis: The Lost Empire."
Even features that tried to blend pen-and-ink drawing with digital animation, like "Titan A. E.," couldn't attract audiences. So, the form that is one of America's few contributions to artistic expression, the hand-drawn cartoon, could soon go the way of the single-screen theater, the drive-in and Michael Jackson's credibility. The belief now is that kids are no longer interested in line-drawn animation features, and that computer-generated stuff is the way to go. It seems incredible that this movement away from traditional cartoons comes at a time when live-action movies are more like cartoons than ever; the trailer for the coming sci-fi film "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" (starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Jude Law) includes a scene of evil flying robots filling the skies that's lifted right out of the Fleischer brothers' gorgeous 1941 Expressionist Superman cartoon, "Mechanical Monsters."
What the leap into the hard drives of computer cartooning ignores is that the technology has been most successful in the hands of one studio: Pixar, where John Lasseter and his team of writers and animators have ingeniously and skillfully exploited the strengths of the technology in a series of films that now have a built-in audience. Surrendering the old ways of animation because of one house's success with the new would be akin to the studios' giving up on action movies because of Joel Silver's preoccupation with them and that hasn't happened yet.
Mr. Lasseter directed "Toy Story" and its sequel, "Toy Story 2," and "A Bug's Life." He and his team deserve the praise accorded Pixar; their films display both the care they invest in their creations and an apparently intuitive understanding of the cartoon. All the Pixar features share a sense of wonder, which befits onscreen figures that don't quite look real. At some point, they all gaze up at a world much grander than anything they've ever imagined that's a story point in all of the movies, and gaining an understanding of one's place in the scheme of things is the subtext of most successful fairy tales. (It also helps that most of the Pixar characters have the sleek, clean design of toys most of the creations might as well have manufacturers' names stamped on their necks.)
The protagonists in the Pixar movies approximate the naïveté of the young audiences, while the narratives of the Pixar features communicate a sophistication that makers of presumably more adult fare should envy. The last scene of "Toy Story 2," in which a pair of playthings Woody and Buzz Lightyear reflect on their adventures, their bond cemented by a good-humored weariness, wouldn't be out of place in "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon" or "Rio Bravo." When a cartoon can genuinely evoke such summary worldliness without over-emphasis, it's a tribute to the moviemaking gifts of those behind it, as well as their marrow-deep comprehension of film tradition.
Mr. Lasseter was a consultant on the English-language version of "Spirited Away," the full-length animation film from another master, Hayao Miyazaki. The Pixar creative squad imposes a consistency on its products that recalls the majestic use of mystery, comedy and fear that Mr. Miyazaki displays in his work. Another brand of savvy comes into play, too, since Mr. Lasseter has chosen to recast Pixar as a family-friendly studio. In the version of the aqua-themed short "Knick Knack" that preceded "Finding Nemo" in theaters last year, the snowman trapped in a snow globe develops a crush on a similarly housed bathing beauty who has very obviously had breast reduction surgery: in the original 1989 "Knick Knack," she had the kind of comically enhanced upper carriage that could easily win her a slot on Fox's better-beauty-through-science reality series, "The Swan." Her less-pneumatic look in the revision is surely a concession to the family trade. (Intriguingly, the time-stamp limits of the technology are evident in "Knick Knack" it looks like a screen-saver, now that its once state-of-the-art vibrancy has dated. Even the first "Toy Story" appears quaint and slightly rusty, as computer animation has become denser and richer.)
Pixar has brought more than a new technique to its films; it's brought that philosophy making awe and curiosity part of the plot without condescension as well. This is evident in looking back at all of them. And it's not so easy to imitate which will become obvious when others eventually grind out knockoffs that crash to the bottom of the box-office charts. What animation comes down to, as does any other film genre, is the vision of those making it. This is why the old-fashioned hand-drawn works, in the right hands, can still dazzle an audience, as the imaginative and fluid "Lilo and Stitch" (2002) proved. That's the lesson studios should be taking from all of this. As Mr. Lasseter knows, it's all about presence.
)
) it is bound to end up - think - as an eventual companion to hand drawn, IF no new fad kicks in during the mean time.
