I haven't made a habit of posting reviews here on my blog, but I am going to make an exception here. I have a few friends that worked on "Monster House", and wanted to give them their accolades. Here is an email I already sent to a couple of pals:
"I just took my son to see your movie on Friday night. We thought it was great! Had a great time.
Loved the animation. especially on the house as she (OMMITED because of spoiler). I also loved the look of the film. It had a nice sense of cinematographic realism, but at the same time the sets and characters had a puppet or claymation feel. I really liked the hair and how you didn't try and make it look like real hair. I like cartoons to look like cartoons. Animated films are best when they caricature reality. "Monster House" nailed it."
I got the feeling tha the animators had a little more freedom to adjust the MoCap than they did in Polar Express. It showed.
No film is above criticism, but al in all, MH is a fun flick. Probably would have done better as a Halloween release, but that's a marketing call. Go see it.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
The Creative Rut
In my last post, I laid a lot of blame at the feet of producer types for the lack of innovative, creative thought. And while not trying to backpeddle, I can't really dump all of the blame on them.
It's easy for each of us artists to fall into a creative rut - what an oxymoron! There is a difference between style and rut: a style being a chosen path and a rut being an engulfing trench. It's a fine line sometimes.
You take somebody with a bold, strong style, like Shane Glines for instance. It's easy to spot one of his drawings from a mile away. His flow of line and bold, active shapes shine. Yet, I don't think I have ever seen him repeat himself. I wish him a long career of innovative design.
Now look at all the wanabes who follow in his wake. He has set such an inspirational standard, that many young talents want to be just like him. But unfortunately, in their efforts, they mimic rather than glean. I don't mean to pick on Glines imitators only. We've seen artists who specialize in imitating Rockwell, Leyendecker, Milt Khal, Miyazaki, etc. The problem occurs when you realize you can't grow out of that style imitation. Learn from other artists as if they were mentors rather than templates. Take what you learn and grow. Remember, Jackson Pollock...
was a student of Thomas Hart Benton:
(Pollock posed for the harmonica player on the left.)
It is beautiful, bold, simply stylized, revered by the art and fashion world. And it has influence many cultures for eons. But at the same time I get saddened that over the centuries when that art was created, only one style was fit to be published. If you couldn't paint in the national style, you evidently didn't get to paint at all. (I'm sure many people have felt the same way about working at Disney). Do you ever think that there was some Egyptian Robert Crumb who wanted to create something a litte different on the walls of the pyramids, but was relegated to making beer for the Pharoh's guards instead? (yes, they made beer then.)
(I'm not picking on Egypt -- most every ancient culture had a house style that the "acceptable" artists had to create in.)
Is this phenomenon the fault of the artists or of the patrons? I tend to blame it on the patrons. (Oops, I'm drifting back into my last post!) I think we all have to deal with creating what a buyer wants. Even though it is largely more fulfilling to create work that gathers its own audience so that your patrons are the masses rather than the distributors of the world.
So the lesson here might be: Create what the patrons want, so you can feed your family until such time that your own work becomes the object of desire. And when that moment comes, make sure you don't fall into that creative rut. Be your own voice.
I propose a new meaning to the phrase "Creative Rut". You see, "rut" also refers to the mating season of large mammals. So let your rut (artistically speaking) be a time to create something new, to fertilize your imagination! (Where's my soap box?!?) To push yourself beyond the boundaries of what you thought you could do!
(Whew! I have to go sit down now.)
It's easy for each of us artists to fall into a creative rut - what an oxymoron! There is a difference between style and rut: a style being a chosen path and a rut being an engulfing trench. It's a fine line sometimes.
You take somebody with a bold, strong style, like Shane Glines for instance. It's easy to spot one of his drawings from a mile away. His flow of line and bold, active shapes shine. Yet, I don't think I have ever seen him repeat himself. I wish him a long career of innovative design.
Now look at all the wanabes who follow in his wake. He has set such an inspirational standard, that many young talents want to be just like him. But unfortunately, in their efforts, they mimic rather than glean. I don't mean to pick on Glines imitators only. We've seen artists who specialize in imitating Rockwell, Leyendecker, Milt Khal, Miyazaki, etc. The problem occurs when you realize you can't grow out of that style imitation. Learn from other artists as if they were mentors rather than templates. Take what you learn and grow. Remember, Jackson Pollock...
was a student of Thomas Hart Benton:
(Pollock posed for the harmonica player on the left.)I love ancient Egyptian art.
It is beautiful, bold, simply stylized, revered by the art and fashion world. And it has influence many cultures for eons. But at the same time I get saddened that over the centuries when that art was created, only one style was fit to be published. If you couldn't paint in the national style, you evidently didn't get to paint at all. (I'm sure many people have felt the same way about working at Disney). Do you ever think that there was some Egyptian Robert Crumb who wanted to create something a litte different on the walls of the pyramids, but was relegated to making beer for the Pharoh's guards instead? (yes, they made beer then.)
(I'm not picking on Egypt -- most every ancient culture had a house style that the "acceptable" artists had to create in.)
Is this phenomenon the fault of the artists or of the patrons? I tend to blame it on the patrons. (Oops, I'm drifting back into my last post!) I think we all have to deal with creating what a buyer wants. Even though it is largely more fulfilling to create work that gathers its own audience so that your patrons are the masses rather than the distributors of the world.
So the lesson here might be: Create what the patrons want, so you can feed your family until such time that your own work becomes the object of desire. And when that moment comes, make sure you don't fall into that creative rut. Be your own voice.
I propose a new meaning to the phrase "Creative Rut". You see, "rut" also refers to the mating season of large mammals. So let your rut (artistically speaking) be a time to create something new, to fertilize your imagination! (Where's my soap box?!?) To push yourself beyond the boundaries of what you thought you could do!
(Whew! I have to go sit down now.)
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Execs
Because this is a business, we all need a certain amount of executive administration. After all, they do the jobs that none of us want to do (plus, they are legal citizens).
But fewer things will cripple a film faster than a studio executive that just saw another movie.
I was just talking to some friends who were working on post production of a kid's show (not one of mine) and the discussion came up whether to put the credits at the beginning or the end of the show. The director said, "You know, it's kid's entertainment. I say we tack the credits on at the end. They don't read them after all. Let's go straight into the show." Then a producer type piped up, "I see what you mean.... You know, I just saw Superman last night and those opening credits went on for about 15 minutes, and..."
The credits were put at the front.
It's a mediocre show at best... and these people actually want their names to open the show.
The thing is an executive wants his name up front to show-off to other execs who may want to hire him one day. "See? I produced this, and this, and this... I'm prolific and profitable." Nevermind that the shows were all crap. It's pure quantity over quality in that world. They know (especially in kid's entertainment) that their colleagues will never actually watch the show. They will only look at the numbers.
Whereas, those of us who watch these shows know what's good and what's not and whom to hire to work with us. If we see a portfolio full of poor drawings from cancelled shows and less than stellar films, we will gleefully pass. An executive left brainer will say, "But look at how thick his book is! And I like that funny bear drawing where he got kicked in the -."
Don't get me wrong here, I've seen good individual portfolios from bad films. You could easily see that the artist knew his stuff, but was shackled under the weight of an uninspired story. And often, they are almost embarrassed to show you the work, because they know the film sucked, too. But they also know it wasn't their fault.
But those bean counters... They just want you to see that they came in on time and under budget. Like you can put that on the cover of the DVD: "Now with 20% less overtime!!"
I just had to let off some steam. Thanx.
By the way. Go read Keith Lango's blog. He's been doing a really good series on independent animation distribution. And then go check out Dave Nethery's blog. He did a great review of Mirage software. Looks like a fun toy for us traditional types.
But fewer things will cripple a film faster than a studio executive that just saw another movie.
I was just talking to some friends who were working on post production of a kid's show (not one of mine) and the discussion came up whether to put the credits at the beginning or the end of the show. The director said, "You know, it's kid's entertainment. I say we tack the credits on at the end. They don't read them after all. Let's go straight into the show." Then a producer type piped up, "I see what you mean.... You know, I just saw Superman last night and those opening credits went on for about 15 minutes, and..."
The credits were put at the front.
It's a mediocre show at best... and these people actually want their names to open the show.
The thing is an executive wants his name up front to show-off to other execs who may want to hire him one day. "See? I produced this, and this, and this... I'm prolific and profitable." Nevermind that the shows were all crap. It's pure quantity over quality in that world. They know (especially in kid's entertainment) that their colleagues will never actually watch the show. They will only look at the numbers.
Whereas, those of us who watch these shows know what's good and what's not and whom to hire to work with us. If we see a portfolio full of poor drawings from cancelled shows and less than stellar films, we will gleefully pass. An executive left brainer will say, "But look at how thick his book is! And I like that funny bear drawing where he got kicked in the -."
Don't get me wrong here, I've seen good individual portfolios from bad films. You could easily see that the artist knew his stuff, but was shackled under the weight of an uninspired story. And often, they are almost embarrassed to show you the work, because they know the film sucked, too. But they also know it wasn't their fault.
But those bean counters... They just want you to see that they came in on time and under budget. Like you can put that on the cover of the DVD: "Now with 20% less overtime!!"
I just had to let off some steam. Thanx.
By the way. Go read Keith Lango's blog. He's been doing a really good series on independent animation distribution. And then go check out Dave Nethery's blog. He did a great review of Mirage software. Looks like a fun toy for us traditional types.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
