Monday, January 28, 2008

Good Morning! Again!



Some time ago, I posted on the making of my latest film, Good Morning. A few people wrote asking for a link to the film. Here, for a limited time only is a link to the film. I believe it expires on Thursday. Hope you enjoy viewing it. http://senduit.com/f76986

Good Morning is my sixth film, not counting my thesis film. I wish I could say that these half dozen films add up to an impressive body of work, but that’s not the case. Don’t get me wrong. Each film was something I felt I had to do at the time. More importantly, each film advanced my career, allowing me to grow to become an animation director. I can’t stress enough the value of doing personal work is to any career. Without it, you’ll just have a reel of other people’s show clips. You disappear in such a real, no matter how good it is.

I’ve had some advantages when it comes to making personal films. For one, it’s always been in my blood to do so. I’m one of those little brats who experimented by making animation on super 8 MM and on the family’s first VHS camcorder. I lived and breathed animation as a child, much like I still do now. Making a thesis film at SVA was a natural thing to do, besides being a graduation requirement. However, none of this made me a disciplined animator or filmmaker. I always felt my ideas were years ahead of what my current skills could deliver. I still feel this way, no matter how many years and films go by.

The other thing that’s motivated me to make films is fear. Good ol’ fear. Fear of not being good enough or worthy enough to hold a place in this industry. I also desperately wanted to tell stories, direct, animate. All things I didn’t assume that anyone might ever pay me to do. Now, I am paid to do these things, but I still make films. I still have that particular hunger that films can only satisfy.

Looking back at my first post student film, Snow Business (1998), it still remains a high mark. At the time I wanted to make a universal family film. In fact, this film was sold to TV in many European languages, so I know that I succeeded in that goal. I remember being shocked to hear people ask me if I was going to make a sequel to Snow Business. Some how, I thought this very question was evidence that I might become I pigeon-holed as a family friendly filmmaker, even though I only had one film to my name. I didn’t know what kind of filmmaker I was, beyond being a beginner. I allowed such minimal external pressure to influence the next films I chose to make. Today, I realize the harm this did to my independent animation career. One should never make personal films to please anyone else.

It took me ten years to learn this lesson, but I did eventually learn it. With Good Morning, I start again fresh.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

The Great Rip-Off Myth


Among the most common rookie questions concerning pitching is, “How do I protect my creation?” My default short answer is, “You don’t.” You don’t protect a creation; you develop, nurture, and freely pitch a creation. Copyright questions and the fear of getting ripped off prevent many a would-be creator from getting off the ground. Its easy to imagine our precious little babies getting stolen right from under us by some smiling back-stabbing executive. The truth is, in animation, this seldom (if ever) happens. In fact, there’s a far more likely scenario; perhaps the idea that you brought in about an opera singing robot sheriff in a futuristic old west has been passed across the development executive’s desk in two seperate pitches in one week! Well, not the exact idea, but something quite similar.

A friend of mine developed a neat idea about a family of spies and spent months creating a lush series bible with juicy show art, a full script, and all the other trimmings. On the very first attempt pitching to Nickelodeon, the development executive told my friend, “This is great. Unfortunately, we already doing something very similar called, 'The X’s.'

It’s now more than five years later and “The X’s” still has yet to set the world on fire, but that’s beside the point. The show was made and aired. Was my friend ripped off in reverse by a series that was already in production? This is what happens, folks. We all breathe the same air. We are products of the same world. You could say that good ideas are flowing in the cosmos and we have to seize the moment when inspiration strikes. To me, sitting on idea while worried that vultures are waiting to pounce upon it, is a form of self-sabotage.

As a closing thought on “the great rip off myth,” I recently had a revelation while attending a Women In Animation (WIA) panel discussion on animation artists that have transitioned into becoming published authors. As typically happens at these events many audience members asked questions about the dangers of companies or individuals stealing their ideas. They wondered how to protect themselves. Wisely, the panelists, who consisted of Tom Warburton, Megan Montague Cash, and Allan Neuwirth, calmly rested their fears. Their consensus was that it’s extremely unlikely that anyone’s ideas will be stolen. And in the odd chance that it does happen, you can always sue! Simple enough.

I realized something at that moment. I could almost smell the fear in that room. It’s not only paranoia or lack of experience in the industry that makes people worry about being ripped off. In my opinion, focusing on this concern says something else entirely; you are way too precious with your idea, and chances are, it’s your only idea. It’s no good to obsess on any one particular idea or overprotect it. Real creativity doesn’t work that way. A would-be creator’s mind has to stay sharp and keep creating new things. Any successful creators will tell you that they’ve got sketchbooks or drawers filled with ideas for scripts, books, shows, comics, etc. As they say, a writer writes. Worrying about the very unlikely event of getting ripped off can keep one from really taking a chance on their dream. Now, let’s lay the “great rip off myth” to rest for good.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Relationships in Your Career


Today my SVA Animation Career Strategy class begins, stretching on for the next fifteen weeks. This is the class that has served as the foundation for my book, Your Career in Animation: How to Survive and Thrive. In each class, I stress the importance of valuing relationships in this industry. We know in our minds and hearts the hopes and desires we hold for our careers. Some of us want to direct, animate on a feature, become an art director, helm their own series, and so on. It would be naïve for us to assume that our co-workers don’t have similar dreams or aspirations. The person getting coffee for a producer today becomes the producer of tomorrow. It happens again and again. If we take the time to create and nurture healthy relationships now, it strengthens and grows our own opportunities in the future.

Of course, with burning bridges, the very opposite happens. The complication is, we’re never going to get along with everyone, nor become automatic best friends with a whole crew. The point is that we should acknowledge how we all have similar goals, are interconnected, and are each deserving of respect. Since this is all pretty abstract I thought I’d use the crew of Blue’s Clues (1996-2004) to illustrate my point. Whatch how these staffers of humble beginnings grew into forces to be reckoned with, only a short time later.

In the list below, “then,” describes the individual’s first role on Blue’s Clues. This list is far from complete. It’s merely a survey of the natural progression of some stellar people, and it’s pretty inspiring to note that all of the below are only just getting started. Imagine how we might update this list another ten years from now!

Samantha Ettus-
THEN: production coordinator.
NOW: Media personality, author, and syndicated columnist. She is the creator of the bestselling Experts' Guide series of books, offering knowledge seekers trustworthy and entertaining advice in a "CliffsNotes" format. www.samanthaettus.com

Lisa Davis-
THEN: prop master.
NOW: Author of the best selling debut novel, Belly, which was on the NY Times best sellar list. www.lisaselindavis.com

Adam Peltzman-
THEN: scripting coordinator.
NOW: Head writer of The Backyardigans, writer for numerous other top series, as well as the creator of his own Nick Jr pilot, Monster News. Currently, with more projects in development.

Fran Krause-
THEN: animator.
NOW: Co-creator of two original pilots for Cartoon Network, and internationally known and respected independent filmmaker.

Tatia Rosenthal-
THEN: animator.
NOW: Director of an upcoming independent stop motion feature film, $9.99. Now in post-production.

Sarah Landy-
THEN: Intern/Executive Assistant.
NOW: Manager of production and development for Nickelodeon’s Nick Jr. Department.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Xeth Feinberg Unleashes His Inner-Papu



Xeth Feinberg, one of the today’s top talents, recently unveiled a string of new “Papu” shorts on line. Xeth is a one-man animation machine turning out terrific independent cartoons all within the confines of his home studio. I’ve admired Xeth’s work since discovering it at an Asifa-East jury screening in the mid-1990s. Some independent animators are content to make film after film that are similar in tone, structure, and subject. Xeth's body of work is unique in that he's made successful dialogue driven-toons (Papu), black and white pantomime surrealistic films (Bulbo), and one-shot narratives (The Old Country). Unifying the filmmaker's work is his distinct style, which seems like a mixture of Hanna/Barbera, indy comics, and the pie-eyed designs of the 1930s.

Xeth’s body of work has not gone unnoticed. Not long ago, Blue Sky recruited him for their story department, where he helped write jokes and plan content for Ice Age and Robots. More recently, Xeth directed Queer Duck, the motion picture, based on a series of shorts he designed and directed for IceBox.com/Showtime. Xeth, like Pat Smith, sets up his own studio boutique style, bringing in help as needed per commercial assignment, and spending the rest of the time entertaining his own whims making art and films. Unlike Pat Smith, who labors on each film for about a year and a half, Xeth cranks out films at a rate of one per week.

Xeth’s films are short, simple, and fast productions, and I think such a system encourages greater experimentation in form and content. Xeth’s work never comes across as precious or fussed over. His strengths lay in his wiseacre vision, which is ironic, spontaneous, intellectual, and lowbrow all at once. I wonder if Papu, a blue goon perpetually swinging a mighty hammer at both friends and foes alike, is Xeth’s answer to the trials and tribulations of the world of animation development. In that area, Xeth and I are kindred spirits, both pitching ideas to the same executives, and usually spending most of our time waiting for an answer.

In a cartoon pitch, all relationships between characters must be clear and purposeful. Papu’s very description, which reads, “An Inexplicable Force of Nature,” takes a jab at these conventions. Pen Ward’s recent short, “Adventure Time,” (Frederator) did a similar thing, by delightfully breezing it’s characters through an anti-story. In the Papu universe, characters are thrown together into relationships just to score a laugh (not a bad reason, in such a short format!). Papu is rarely without his randomly chosen companions; a generic small boy and a drunken long-shore man. This trio is as inexplicable as the big blue guy himself. Dispensing of the usual rules of a character driven cartoon, Xeth is free to spend his shorts any way he pleases.

In “Papu Family Values,” we come close to learning more about Papu, by meeting his seemingly normal brother. The brother coaxes Papu to accept a job in his law firm, but Papu quickly smashes that notion right on it’s head, helping to uncover his brother’s own “Papuish,” nature. In a similar way, Xeth prolifically churns out cartoons; aiming to win a broader audience and also court future career opportunities. Each toon becomes one more conk on the head, and I mean that in the best possible way. Go Xeth! Get your Papu-on at www.mishmashmedia.com

Monday, December 31, 2007

Writers and Animators, Oh Boy!


What is the supposed rivalry between animators and writers? The best answer I can muster is the fact that producers don’t often consider animation artists for writer positions. Mo Willems remains one of the shining examples of someone who has bridged both worlds with success. Sure, most animation artists that make independent films are writers of sorts. The writing that I’m talking about, that mostly excludes animation artists, is script writing for TV series. Even Blue’s Clues, a series that offered its staff many diverse opportunities, drew the line at writing. Once or twice they opened the door to script contributions from the whole staff, but it never led to an artist penning a script.

There’s an attitude that writing is writing and art is art. The irony is that the wall preventing animation artists from writing scripts does not keep “front office” staffers from similarly contributing. In the world of preschool TV, I have seen scripts written by producers, coordinators, live action directors, actors, and child development research specialists. We can’t assume that all these people are automatically qualified or gifted writers. So, why are they getting this opportunity? My feeling is that this happens because those filling these positions work with the script as their sole document. Everything they do revolves around the script, unlike animation artists, which translate and then discard the script as they convert it to a visual medium. In most TV or commercial animation, artists interpret and writers write.

If an animation artist wishes to write or be considered a writer in a studio setting, they had better write some samples on their own time. I love writing scripts. My pitch projects have given me the excuse to write dozens of scripts over the years. I first developed my writing by contributing articles to the ASIFA-East newsletter (Hint! Hint!), and next by authoring the book, Your Career in Animation. This year I’ve been in development with a TV idea of my own creation and I was gratified to function as the writer on the project and not exclusively as the artist. Six years prior, I didn’t sign my first development deal with Nickelodeon (partly) because they pigeon holed me as the artist. At that point, I had no samples to prove I was a writer and it hurt my case. Today, my current deal has already led to another deal writing a series overview and bible for a new animated property, where my role will be, among other things, head writer/story editor.

Again, I ask, what is the supposed rivalry between animators and writers? My theory is nobody can block our path but, ourselves. Only we have that power. Perhaps this could be the catalyst for a new year’s resolution?

Monday, December 24, 2007

Five Reasons Why These Are the Good Old Days


1-Because TV series animation jobs have been back in the United States since the mid 1990s and despite upstarts such as India, show no sign of disappearing. Maybe with the dollar so weak, this can continue unabated. We could be the third world nation doing outsourced animation for other countries! How cool is that.. wait, that doesn’t sound so great… anyway, as we stand today, men and women are actually earning a living as animators working on television series. This hadn’t happened for nearly a twenty-year period prior to the 1990s. Back then animation on shows such as Scooby Doo was outsourced, only allowing U.S. animation artists to work as designers, layout, and storyboard artists. New cheaper means of producing animation such as Flash, After Effects and Maya have made this revolution possible.

2-Because when an artist creates a character for a network (again, since the 1990s), that artist receives participatory series bonuses and a piece of the ancillary action. A Nickelodeon insider told me that one successful creator has earned between 150 to 200 million dollars this way. In contrast, Scooby Doo was created in 1969 by employees of Hannah/Barbera as a work-for-hire, who only earned a flat weekly salary for birthing this still-successful franchise. Today, many creators are not only retaining a percentage of he spoils, they own their characters outright. The internet has put a “TV network” in the hands of anyone that builds a Web site and splatters it with original content. When internet properties prove themselves with gigantic amounts of hits, real TV networks take notice, putting the power right back in the hands of the creators.

3-Because Ralph Bakshi’s legacy of taking animation to not strictly G-rated kiddie fare has finally taken root. Love it or hate it, Ralph’s films have expanded this art form’s vocabulary and helped diversify its audience. Today his influence can be seen in everything from Adult Swim’s line up to independent features daring to tread beyond the song cycle of Broadway. Bakshi’s early features such as Fritz the Cat and Heavy Traffic explored the social, political, and sexual revolution. Persepolis, the most important animated feature this year, owes a far bigger debt to Bakshi than it does to another milestone film that’s now celebrating it’s 70th birthday, Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. Whenever anyone tackles a subject that was formally taboo to the animated medium, they are pulling a Bakshi. The art form is all the more healthy for it, unless you’d rather the Chub Chubbs inherit the earth.

4-Because animation artists are exchanging ideas and information with each other as never before, largely thanks to personal blogs, and Web sites such as cartoonbrew.com, michaelspornanimation.com, michaelbarrier.com., and frederator.com. In the 1970s, budding historians such as Jerry Beck, Michael Barrier, and Greg Ford hunted for animated films in garage sales and laid the foundation for a serious discussion of this industry’s history. Today a provocative post on cartoonbrew might score 150 posted comments in the first 24 hours. The community is not only larger than ever, but is also interacting as never before. Through personal artist blogs, we not only have the ability to take an intimate peak at great (and future great) animation artist’s thoughts and work, but also are treated to a tour of their network of artist pals.

5-Because so many of the artists that I respect most are venturing into independent feature films that, again, would not have been possible without the cheaper production technologies of today. In the upcoming years New York Independent animation may be well represented in the Oscar’s best-animated feature category. Don’t be surprised to see indy features by such directors as Michael Sporn, Nina Paley, Dan Kanemoto, Tatia Rosenthal, and Bill Plympton taking their place alongside Pixar, Blue Sky, and Dreamworks. The day of the independent animated feature is finally here and it’s future looks bright.

Monday, December 17, 2007

The Other Side of the Coin


Some of the comments on my last blog post have inspired me to address a related topic. Last week my blog post was about how animation artists navigate working in a non-union animation town such as NYC. Some of the emphasis was on how animation artists can work together without the union and improve working conditions as well as studio policies. Recently, last week in fact, “permalance” workers from Viacom’s MTV networks walked off the job after their benefits and health plan were severely cut back. Among those who walked out was the entire NYC animation department at Nickelodeon. After a few short days, Viacom made some concessions and the crews returned to work. In this example, management was equally effected by the cutbacks, so the general staff had their bosses right there on the picket line with them. Still, it takes courage to walk off a job under any circumstance, so the Nickelodeon animation staff deserves our kudos and respect.

But, this posting isn’t about the above labor action. It’s about individual responsibility, which is the other side of the coin on this issue. Some students graduate with a sense of entitlement. They believe they’re owed something because of the great time and expense they just put into their education. The first five years of a typical animation career is the time when experience should be the prime consideration, far above getting the highest salary. The pay I earned while working at my first job at Michael Sporn Animation was not the biggest dollar in town. There was far more money to be earned at that time at Jumbo Pictures or MTV. But, I was working at one of the only studios in town that did animation from start to finish. The bottom line was that I was in the best place I could be to learn. And I had a lot to learn (still do!). Besides, Sporn paid a fair and generous dollar based on his budgets. If you follow the almighty dollar as your only compass you may have a very sorry career to show for it. I never heard of anyone ever choosing this industry to strike it rich. If that’s your plan, you’re probably setting yourself up for a big fall.

Yes, I understand that students fresh out of school have student loans. These loans represent your investment in yourself. If you’re looking for a quick return on that investment and believe that others owe that to you, then, you’ve already sold yourself way short. This is a business about relationships and reputation. These are your two greatest assets that you should guard with your life. Get over your sense of entitlement and start building your career. Opportunities I now have are the result of 12 years of making personal films, creating and pitching projects, taking on freelance opportunities in addition to full time work, teaching at three universities, and networking/volunteering through ASIFA-East. I have no anger or disappointment. I never believed that anyone owed me a damned thing. I’m too busy being grateful that I get to work in the field of my choice. Turn the mirror on yourself before you look to vent your frustrations elsewhere.