Canaries in the Coal Mine

In 2005 and 2006 my SVA career classes graduated with a large percentage of them finding employment. By 2007 the local industry was beginning an undeniable downturn. Less TV series were in production and, since TV series make up the bulk of our jobs, there was less work to spread around. In particular, students graduating in large numbers (the SVA graduating animation classes alone have numbered over 40 students per year since 2000) depend on TV series jobs more than other more-seasoned animation artists, which have a broader range of opportunities to call upon. TV series require a large workforce with a great deal of assistant work tailor made to newcomers.

I’m amazed at the power the Disney films of the 1990s have held on the current generation of wanna-be animation artists. The success and influence of The Little Mermaid to Tarzan is what has packed the SVA animation department since 2000. I’ll never forget the rows and rows of long faces staring back at me when I taught my first SVA career class held after the announcement that Disney was shutting down their traditional animation department. What I read as merely another headline in Variety, the class took as a deathblow.

Beginning in 2007, there has been a large rise in unpaid “internships” going to students post-graduation. For me, SVA’s graduating class has provided a yearly glimpse into the relative health of the local animation industry. Many of the last two graduating classes have struggled to land even a first break in animation. Some have asked me for help and advice. In each case, it is advice I had dispensed over and over again during my 15-week course. The only problem is, the students weren’t ready to hear it then. I’m not sure they are ready to hear it now.

In each case I ask them to describe their job hunt. The answer is always the same:
"I search on line and apply to ads on craigslist."

That would be fine if it represented 10% of their job hunt, not the summation of it. Some students wait until they are done creating the perfect reel. Others simply let their “dream” fritter away and allow themselves to get swallowed by the easiness of their part time or full time jobs outside of animation. Breaking into animation and securing one’s place in the industry takes as much passion and effort as it might take to learn this artform's craft. One has to network and creatively develop themselves. It’s never enough to be “into cartoons.” This industry eats people alive who are merely “into cartoons." You have to have a hunger for animation. You have to know that you can’t imagine a life working in any other capacity.

Do students lacking imagination and drive in the job hunt make this “canaries in the coal mine” analogy useless? I don’t believe so, because during busier periods in animation, even those who are only “into cartoons” are often swept into jobs (perhaps after being recommended by their more ambitious friends). The fact that this hasn’t happened in the last two years is an indication of a continuing slump.

Not So Merrie About the Merrie Melodies

The sixth Loony Tunes 4-DVD set just dropped into stores, and according to a post by Jerry Beck on cartoonbrew.com from a way’s back, it might just be the last. This is as good a time as any to discuss the series’ strengths and weaknesses.


Commentary Tracks:
Pro:
A handful of commentary tracks on each disc (ranging from the very informative Greg Ford and Mark Kausler to genially enthusiastic Jerry Beck and Eric Goldberg to historical musings of Michael Barrier and Daniel Goldmark). For the most part, any commentary is a welcome addition to these sets.

Con:
-Disappointing commentary tracks from voice artists such as June Foray and Stan Freberg due to their lack of fly-on-the-wall insight. After all, they were THERE.
-Hot and cold John K commentaries. He had virtually nothing to say on the brilliant Chuck Jones’ short Waikiki Rabbit, made all the more noticeable by Eddie Fitzgerald’s constant laughter.


Cartoon remastering and restoration:
Pro:
Restored original titles, uncut cartoons, and remastered picture and sound bring these cartoons back to life after decades of mistreatment.


Cartoon selection and distribution:
Con:
-HUGE CON! Why weren’t these shorts presented in chronological order? I wouldn’t even care if they’d skipped Bosco, Foxy, and the other earliest shorts. They could have started with Porky Pig and moved on from there to the very end of Warner’s shorts. Then, there could have been archival releases of what came before. The recent official Fleischer Popeye DVD sets show how chronological collections make the most sense. This way the viewer gets to see the filmmakers and the cartoon stars evolve over time and change as products of their changing times. In the random way these cartoons are spread over these six sets, this is completely impossible to track.


Other special features:
Pro & Con:
-Any special features are automatically welcome, but, bonus cartoons (such as early black and white Harman and Ising era WB cartoons) just make me sad because it leads me to conclude that such cartoons will never be released in a chronological and archival DVD set of their own. Instead of bonus cartoons, these seem like cast offs.


Cover art:
Con:
Again, look to the Popeye collections to see how such covers can be rendered with respect and dignity. The cover art/art direction of these six sets is an absolute abomination to the point where they risk devaluing the shorts contained within.


The WW II theme of the sixth set:
Pro:
We should be grateful that on such a general public release, they finally got around to including these important historical shorts.

Con:
The WW II theme (outside of one disc) is only window dressing. The rest of the set is filled with regular cartoons. A pity that they didn’t make this a release a fully WW II themed set. The 24 Private Snafu cartoons could have been spread over two discs. Instead, Snafu cartoons were spread around as bonus tracks on previous sets. A missed opportunity, indeed.


*** In summary, perhaps Popeye faired much better because its shorts had been out of the public eye for decades. Popeye was geared to the serious collector and it showed in the elegance of its cover art, menu pages, and bonus material. In contrast, the six WB cartoon sets were caught between trying to please the serious cartoon aficionado while also pleasing the general public that was seeking a video babysitter for their children. With such competing interests the films were made to be the losers. These shorts deserved better. But, worst of all? Ask me to find “What’s Opera Doc?” and I’d have no idea which of the six collections houses it. But, I suppose that doesn’t matter to the scores of parents looking for a video babysitter.

Gains and Losses

On a floor at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts sits an Oxberry Camera. The camera is now out of use and serves as a marker of a change in the animation industry. A card explains the camera’s function to passers by, boasting that Mo Willems, Jennifer Oxley, and Michael Dougherty (among others) shot films on this Oxberry.

Back in the day, shooting animation was one of the most expensive parts of the traditional animation process. Artwork would have to be carefully organized and all timing and camera needs had to be clearly marked on exposure sheets for camera men who would toil away into the night. Most animation studios did not own their own Oxberry cameras. The machines were heavy, expensive, and required towering ceilings wherever they might be installed. Still, these devices were essential to the animation process for almost a century. Yet, at the end of their run, schools couldn’t give them away.

We all know that the computer age changed the systems by which traditional animation is produced. Now, making an animated film is cheaper and easier than ever before. Working on a Mac or a PC in Flash or After Effects, one animates and exposes and shoots animation all at the same time. The "camera" (in a virtual sense) is now a part of the animation process and is in the animator’s hands.

The questions are “What was gained?” and “What was lost?” The gain is that one person can create a full-service animation studio with a computer tucked in their living room. I just upgraded to the most powerful Mac pro tower and Wacom Cintiq with enough power and hard drive space to make an entire animated feature in HD. At the very least, it will allow me to fly through freelance work and my short personal films.

The loss has been the decline/shift in the old disciplines of animation craft. Animators used to have work in a more organized and careful manner, diligently prefiguring out camera moves and instructions on exposure sheets. A single mistake could blow a whole shoot, resulting in major losses in time and money. Now, animators work in more freewheelin’ manner, perhaps with nothing more than a rough idea of how a scene may work before animating it and compositing it together in After Effects. Working in this manner, the animator can retime animation, camera moves, and etc in an infinite amount of ways––each just a mouse click and a ram preview away.

At best, this loss is also a gain. My new personal film seeks to make this working method into strength. By using such a freewheelin’ approach to production, I’m hoping this spontaneity will help give my animation added life and interest. By drawing directly onto my Wacom, the roughnesses of my drawings are preserved as they are. I don’t time out the animation in advance. I only draw the drawings I think I’ll need and then allow new accidents and discoveries to happen when timing them out in After Effects. I seldom need to go back to Photoshop to add new drawings. Once I’m happy with the scene’s timing, I return to Photoshop to color the drawings in an imitation crayon style. Again, the looseness and human touch comes into play in the production process.

For me, this age of animation production means neither gains nor loss––it means so much more than that. It means freedom.

80% of Success

If we are to believe Woody Allen’s quote, “80% of success is just showing up…” then in the world of pitching projects, we can assume that developing and pitching projects frequently must be fundamental to success in that arena. Until this post, I never compiled an exact count of all the pitches I juggle year-to-year (see image above showing a blitz of pitch meetings a couple of years back). For fun, I’ve labeled each pitch that went nowhere with a “DUD!” and each pitch that led to a deal of some sort with a “SCORE!”

2006:
SCORE!
one animated preschool idea ended in a year-long option/development deal at Playhouse Disney in 2007.

DUD!
one animated older kids (age 6 to 11) concept has failed to find a home even after three years of redevelopment and repitching.

DUD!
My idea for a stars-of-animation live action TV interviews show fails after 3 pitch meetings with various networks.

SCORE!
pitched an animation pitching and development book, which ended in a deal to write my second book for Allworth Press. The manuscript was finished and delivered in early August 2008 and the book’s publication date is September 2009.

2007:
SCORE! and DUD!
my deal with Playhouse Disney stalls after we complete scripts––before we get a chance to go to pilot. Still, it was a great experience to have a project optioned at a major network.

DUD!
two animated pitches for adult animated series. One has more legs than another, but is still on the back burner until I can put some energy and resources together to make a 2-minute test film to help sell the show. A 2-minute test film seems especially necessary with adult projects.

DUD!
I pitch a children’s book agent five children’s book ideas. All are rejected.

2008:
SCORE!
two weeks after the Disney deal goes south, my network contact recommends me to be the creator/writer/developer of a new project for an independent production, giving me my second paid experience as a TV writer. This project remains active and is likely a pilot (if not a full blown series) will be ordered soon.

DUD!
I pitched a third concept for an adult animated series, which goes nowhere.

SCORE!
pitched a third “animation” book for Allworth Press, which ended in a deal to write the book. The contract was signed last week. Writing begins January 1, 2009.

SCORE!
after seeing my short “Good Morning,” National Geographic Kids development hires me to direct an internal pilot, allowing me to contribute on the ground floor of a new project.

DUD!
pitched two old concepts to a new shorts program at Cartoon Network.

SCORE!
after showing clips of my work-in-progress, an independent producer hires me to animate/direct/develop her self-funded pilot, which I start in mid-October.

***Note that the only consistent successes on my pitch roster have been my book proposals to Allworth Press, where I am (miraculously) 3 for 3. Not every pitch on this list has become a major creative priority in my creative life. There’s NO WAY that I would ever devote to pitching and development full time. This is a speculative business with no guarantee that any project will take off. Instead, pitching and development has been a side-bar to my career, offering a chance to reach for the moon (sorry for the cliché), while I happily toil away in the animation industry.

As we move into 2009, my pitch sites are set on another personal film, a new children’s book pitch, and three proposals for an animated feature film. Hey––you never know, right?

The Ins and Outs of Indie Animated Features

ASIFA-East held a panel on the state of NY independent animated features on September 23, 2008 that was moderated by cartoonbrew’s Amid Amidi and featured panelists Emily Hubley, Dan Kanemoto, Bill Plympton, Michael Sporn, and Tatia Rosenthal. Each panelist has either finished a feature or is in progress on one. The audience was first treated to a two-minute clip of each film before the discussion began. One aspect of making an independent feature dominated the conversation: how to secure funding and distribution. The next day Michael Sporn lamented on his splog how he had wished there had been more questions on the creative side. Nobody asked how a filmmaker used to working in shorts deals with the creative problem of expanding their vision to a feature length medium.

The same lack of creative curiosity goes on at panels on pitching and development for an animated series, where the dominant conversation is always about how to pitch or legally protect ones ideas. My feeling is that in both cases the audience and panelists each believe they already possess the creative chops to make a feature or create an animated series. Of course, they are probably mistaken, as these goals are only realistic for a very small portion of those attending such events.

Forget funding. Forget distribution. At least for a minute. The real issue for me is, “Will there be an audience for my indie feature film?” Persepolis was picked up by Sony Picture Classics, which ensured it a world wide, albeit somewhat limited release. The film didn’t make it to every-town USA but, it did play in artsy theatres in major US cities. That’s probably the best an indie animated film can expect to achieve for now. Tatia Rosenthal’s $9.99 seems well heeled to follow in Persepolis’s footsteps because of its lavish-for-an-indie-animated feature budget of 3 million bucks and a world-wide distribution plan built into that (see image from $9.99 above). To secure such an arrangement, Tatia began with a killer script, a grant from NYU, a place at the Sundance workshop, a willingness to upset her life and move to Australia for the two-year production, and perhaps most important––a willingness to relinquish ownership of the film.

The larger budget and broader partnerships not only showed in Tatia’s film clip, but they also ensure a much more certain future for her film. Her sacrifices (which also include an 8 year production time!) will not only get her film seen but will also nicely set up her career to direct another feature, which she might own and even get to make in the city of her choice.

Sitting somewhere in the audience that night was an indie live action feature producer friend of mine with 18 years experience in the business. She gave me fresh perspective on the event when she explained that while each of the filmmaker’s had a compelling back story about their film, ultimately the audience is not going to care about that. The audience doesn’t see a film because the filmmaker struggled over many years to make it. The film has to be compelling in its own right. Compelling in its subject and in its execution.

We indie animators are used to playing in the safe and small pond world of short animated films. We know how much they cost, how many ideas they can hold, what level of risks we can take with them, and where to get them seen and distributed.

Some ten years ago I attended a script reading of Tatia’s film by professional actors in New York City. Sitting on stools with scripts in hand, they read through the entire feature length screenplay in real time. We, as an audience, were transfixed. I felt as if I’d seen the film that night, it so came alive in my mind.

On the panel Michael Sporn correctly pointed out that Bill Plympton is a pre-sold brand, but (I would point out) this has not proved enough for Bill Plympton to achieve the success in features that he desires. Sporn wisely adapted Edgar Allen Poe's biography along with a few of the author's short stories to frame his feature. Poe IS a pre-sold commodity even if Sporn’s name (outside of animation circles) is not. Dan Kanemoto chose the rich tapestry of WW II stories as his theme, but after being unable to secure the rights to authentic soldier’s stories, made up his own. However, WW II is an evergreen subject and one which upon limitless stories can be told. Emily Hubley seems to have made the most abstract feature on the panel, which explored the familiar themes of her shorter films. Yet, as a master of securing film grants and private funding, she may have the least financial risk on the line of this panel.

The two main business models presented this night were making it/showing it/and it will find distribution VERSUS making it with the financial and distribution partners already committed. Obviously the filmmaker doesn’t always have a choice in the matter. Sometimes one just follows their muse and throws caution to the wind. How lucky for us that so many interesting films are going to see the light of day, even if that light may only show at animation festivals or on the filmmaker’s self-distributed DVDs.

Back from Ottawa!

Note: Photo courtesy of Justin Simonich, featuring (from left to right) Yuliya Parshina, Fran Krause, Will Krause, Justin Simonich, Christy Karakas, and David Levy.

I just flew back from the Ottawa International Animation Festival and boy are my arms tired, eh? By throwing the word, “eh” at the end of that tired old joke, it becomes Canadian. Trying to write about attending this festival is like having to write a school essay on what you did last summer. Besides, there’s already some stellar coverage of the festival on blogs such as Michael Sporn’s splog at www.michaelspornanimation.com. So, instead, here’s a bullet point summary from me:

-Traveling with my buddy Justin Simonich, we arrive in Ottawa at 9:30 AM on the first day of the festival. We enjoy a tasty breakfast at Dunne’s (a sort of cheap diner on Elgin Street near our hotel). We are joined by New York animation artists Willy Hartland and Phil Lockerby (who is actually Canadian!). Check out Phil’s blog at: drawingonnapkins.blogspot.com. Willy shows us some pitches he plans to show at TAC (the festival’s TV animation conference.) We toast our coffees to wish him luck. Maybe we should have toasted our bread instead. At other breakfasts we dined with Linda Beck, David Watchenheim and his studio stalwart Glen, as well as Chris Boyce.

-We finally find the Arts Court building to sign in to the festival. I’m terrible at direction, which gives Phil a chance to ask numerous pretty girls for directions along the way.

-At the Art Courts building I’m happy to see my book is displayed for sale on a table also holding DVDs by NY indies Signe Baumane, Pat Smith, and others.

-We start to hear the first of countless complaints that there is NO central meeting place at this year’s festival. In past years, the NAC (National Arts Center) served as a swanky festival hub, allowing attendees to meet, bump into each other, as well as saving us from having to trek all across town to other venues.

-I’m reminded how seedy Rideau Street is near the also-seedy ByTowne Theater, which serves as one of the festivals main screening venues. We notice a homeless man squatting on the floor carving raw meat off a small animal’s bony carcass. On that note, it’s time for lunch! Ottawa is overrun with pubs and for me that means lots of delicious cider! It’s also another chance to NOT order the local Canadian treat “poutine,” which is French fries drowned in gravy with some cheese curd mixed in for good measure.

-I only made it to one panel discussion, but luckily it was a great one on humor in animation moderated by Amid Amidi. On the panel were Nick Cross, Fran and Will Krause, Christy Karakas, and Martin Pickles. It was here that I learned about Amid’s sneaky moderation style, which is to spout strong opinions that might get a rise out of the panel and the audience. Hmmm…sounds also like his posting style on cartoonbrew, no?

-In my opinion, the heart and soul of the festival were retrospectives on the work of Michael Sporn and Skip Battaglia, and the class reel from RISD. Amy Kravitz, RISD’s animation department chairperson, picked up a special award at the festival for her outstanding student’s work. Go RISD!

-The unjust award goes to the snubbing of Bill Plympton’s and Nina Paley’s features in favor of the more commercial leaning CGI film “Terra,” which some thought to be Terra-ble.

-Fran and Will Krause picked up the kids jury award for their outstanding pilot “The Upstate Four,” and the audience was charmed by the kid reading a summery of the film from her own point of view. A miscommunication between the brothers resulted in the award being left behind at the closing party at Helsinki bar. Luckily it was recused the next day and is being mailed to the brothers, who promise to be more careful with their next award.

-Justin Simonich and Linda Beck began shooting a very special film project at the Ottawa festival, which you will no doubt be hearing about soon.

-J.J. Sedelmaier sported some killer facial hair and sat on a panel moderated by Ward Jenkins on the state of animation education. Richard O’Connor not only did a killer karaoke version of “China Girl” at the closing party, he also moderated a panel on feature animation.

-Yo Gabba Gabba clips dominated the kids category at the festival and among the best was Willy Hartland’s “Pick it Up.”

-The bees were out in full force at the picnic...so they could welcome the queen bee Candy Kugel, who’s film dEVOLUTION played at a special festival screening. To this, Candy responded with dELIGHT.

-While trekking to History of Civilization-held closing ceremony, we spot two live beavers across the street...causing me to exclaim, "I'll be damned!"

-Otis Brayboy made homemade chicken soup for 10 people who all drove up and stayed together in a couple of hotel suites. Among the lucky soup slurpers were Dayna Gonzalez and Pilar Newton.

-My “how’d they do that award” goes to Super Jail! How did they do that?

-I enjoy a nice chat sitting next to Heather Kenyon on the flight home where we thumb through the latest animation magazine together.

There’s so much more to write about, but how could I fit it all in, eh?

Collaboration in an Indie Film

Collaboration on the job can be tough enough, even with roles defined by title, responsibility, and differences in pay scale. Sometimes it’s just plumb hard for folks to work together (note: I’ve been watching a lot of “Little House on the Prairie” lately, and the folksy vernacular is starting to seep into my subconscious. At least, I reckon it is.) All too often, collaboration between one or more artists making an indie-animated film can lead to disaster.

One story from my dad’s childhood works as a nice metaphor for the trap. When my dad was a kid in the 1940s, a common enterprise for boys was to earn money shining shoes. One day my dad and a friend from the same apartment building decided to create their own shoe-shining business. The plan was they would each buy materials and then set up their stands side-by-side in their Brooklyn neighborhood. Incidentally, they lived in Brownsville on Amboy Street. The same street as Ralph Bakshi, who was a child hood friend of my dad! When my dad and his business partner were finally ready to begin their shoe-shining enterprise, the friend suddenly bailed out. It turns out his father didn’t want his son to shine shoes. My dad was left without a partner and he almost threw in the towel as well. But, my dad’s grandfather convinced him to go it alone, offering to accompany him to the park. The moral support did the trick and my dad set up for business. He continued his shoe shining for years, earning himself money for movies as well as money to help out his struggling household.

In my career class I often describe the same problem above as two people joining the gym together. At first they set days and times that they will work out on a regular basis, but then inevitably one friend will lag behind and stop going. The other friend can either stop going too or realize that they don’t need to depend upon someone else to get their own butt to the gym. Independent films made between one or more partners face the same challenges. Very often partners begin with the best intensions because talk is cheap and enthusiasm is free. But, films take work and commitment to get done. Poorly chosen collaborators can drag both partners down with one member constantly waiting for the other to make a move before either can proceed.

I’ve been lucky to find my best collaborator to date with my creative partner Bob Charde. He’s a musician, composer, songwriter, singer, voice artist, producer, and technical wizard. All things I am NOT. However, like me, he is self-motivated and has the drive to see a project through to its completion. For our film, “Good Morning,” it was really just me hijacking one of his songs and animating it. When I was finished I called Bob and told him he had a new film! He was delighted and together we entered film festivals (landing into competition at ten festivals to date.) Most recently, we inked a deal with a Canadian distributor who now has non-exclusive rights to our film for the next 3 years. Bob and I will be paid every time the film is broadcast on TV or on the web.

Shortly after we began to find success with Good Morning, Bob asked if I was interested in collaborating on a film with him “for real.” I had no real plans to make another film but, on Bob’s encouragement I sent him three old scripts I’d written for preschool projects I’d developed. Two weeks later, Bob responded by sending me the vocal soundtrack for one of my ideas called “Owl and Rabbit Play Checkers” (see still above.) With a lesser collaborator this could have been a disaster. Imagine if the track was lousy! But, thankfully, Bob nailed it––expertly voicing the titular characters as well as the narrator. He hit just the right tone, capturing all the humor and emotion in the piece. With Bob’s bold move he shanghaied me into making another film. It’s as if he got his revenge for my actions with his song “Good Morning.”

Now I was suddenly making a short that I had no plans to EVER make. When you make films on a regular (or semi-regular) basis the problem is not, “should I make a film?” but, more like, “Which film should I make?” Happily, Bob forced the issue and pushed us both into business. I’m now 2/3 done animating the new short. I turn it over to Bob on Oct 12 so he can start scoring the film. Before the next year, we’ll have a new short to our names. I would have nothing if not for this fruitful collaboration. It’s interesting that collaboration can be so important to a project that there may not be a project without it.

This week I’ll take a short break on the film to attend the Ottawa International Animation Festival. Perhaps, at the festival, some future collaborators might meet for the first time. Hope to see you there!