Posts Tagged ‘behind the scenes’

Brushing Off The Pixie Dust – The Business of Studio Animation

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

Toy Story 3 is now the highest grossing animated film of all time. Box Office Mojo calculates the film’s current worldwide earnings at over $980 million and it tops the domestic charts for the year thus far. This kind of success in the entertainment industry is bound to spawn imitators. My hope is that filmmakers will take inspiration from the quality of animation and attention to detail found in Pixar’s films or the idea that kids can and will watch films containing harsh truths and bittersweet endings. But I know that somebody somewhere is going to come away with the idea that animation is the path to guaranteed success and that nothing could be easier than gathering up a couple of creative types and having them make the next big hit animated movie.

Of course, we know better. We’ve read the books, watched the documentaries, and poured over the DVD bonus features. We know that even the most creative people in the world don’t wake up one morning with the idea for an animated film and have the whole thing done in a month. Animation has its own challenges, from trying again and again to get a particular pose right to having to scrap a finished scene because of story changes to plain old artist’s block. It’s hard work and it isn’t always hard work that pays off. For every Toy Story 3, there are any number of animated films that enjoy only modest success, more that fail outright, and still more that have trouble even getting into theaters.

Take, for example, the unfortunate tale of Tugger: The Jeep 4×4 Who Wanted To Fly. The Orlando Sentinel first detailedthe film’s troubled history back in 2006 and revisited the story when the film’s director was arrested and charged with fraud. (Both articles came to my attention via Cartoon Brew.) Tugger might have been just one more forgotten animated film were it not for the allegations that director Jeffrey Varab lured in investors with assurances of deals for distribution that hadn’t actually been signed, failed to pay animators, and never repaid money he was loaned for production expenses. Varab claims that Tugger writer and storyboard supervisor Woody Woodman and one of the investors in the film are trying to ruin him and that Tugger‘s extremely brief flight through theaters was not an actual release, but a test screening. In the comments section on just about any article on Varab’s arrest, you’ll find people citing Tugger‘s woes as part of a long history of underhanded behavior by Varab, people defending Varab as a good and trustworthy person, and a couple of people who think that Varab’s methods may have been shady, but they’re pretty much business as usual in Hollywood. The facts of Tugger‘s production may not be clear until the court cases surrounding it are resolved. But what is clear is that is clear is that simply being a computer animated film for children did not save Tugger from crashing and leaving a lot of unhappy people in its wake.

This is not the only way an animated film can crash and burn. Comb through the history of animation and you’re bound to come across projects and whole studios that came and went without much notice or never got even one production off the ground. Some are true tragedies, tales of enthusiastic artists with big, ambitious ideas who just couldn’t get the business end of the equation to work out. There are also ill-concieved studios and ideas based around the most, bland, safe, uninspired projects and business deals shadier than those e-mails requesting your help in getting money out of a foreign country. And everything in between: idealistic young animators who entered into terrible financial deals to fund their projects, artists so obsessed with making their work perfect that the film goes horribly over budget and never gets finished, studios that get all the money lined up in the most legitimate, above the board ways but comes out with films that never catch on, terrific films that are horribly marketed or barely released, and companies that are so focused on potential merchandising and fast food premiums and theme parks that the actual film is almost an afterthought.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because the risky, business side of studio animation is so often overlooked. The movie industry has long been associated with dreams; think of the fantasy of Hollywood as a place where anyone can become a star. The process of animation seems so inherently magical – making drawings, polygons, puppets, and the like come to life – that it’s even easier to coat the entire process in a sparkling veil of pixie dust. Even the tendency of American theatrical animation to tell stories for children plays a role in how the industry is viewed. We see so many animated movies about characters who pursue their dreams and find happiness in spite of all odds that we sometimes want to believe that the animation industry works on the same principle, that anyone with a dream and the will to make it happen can succeed. It is, as Jiminy Cricket puts it in Pinocchio, “a very lovely thought, but not at all practical.”

You might think that knowing about all the obstacles lying between an animated film and success would give me a dim view of studio animation. But that isn’t true. Everything I’ve learned about it over the years has made me appreciate the animation I love more, not less. Knowing how much works goes into crafting a good story, designing an appealing characters, making that character seem to think and feel, creating a convincing environment, and making the result seem natural and effortless has given me a greater respect for movies that are able to accomplish such a daunting task. The same is true of knowing what the business of studio animation is like. I don’t think it’s a perfect system and it still frustrates me when I see a good movie or a good studio fall prey to financial troubles. But knowing all the pressures facing animated films makes it all the more impressive when a movie does succeed, when a film feels like it was made in that nonexistent world where everyone is happy to throw unlimited amounts of money into production just so the movie can be as good as it can possibly be, or when a young artist looks at everything he or she must overcome to even a film into theaters and still has the courage to try to make the next great animated movie.

R.I.P. Pres Romanillos

Wednesday, July 21st, 2010

I was saddened to hear of the death of animator Pres Romanillos on July 17. An extremely talented artist – some of his work can be seen on his art blog, Romanillos worked on numerous animated films for Disney and Dreamworks. Most recently, he worked on Prince Naveen in The Princess and the Frog. He had been battling leukemia and the cancer ultimately took his life at the unfairly young age of 47.

Cartoon Brew’s obituary for Romanillos includes a number of links to tributes and remembrances by his friends and family. My heart is with them during this sad time.

Thoughts on “Waking Sleeping Beauty”

Tuesday, July 20th, 2010

I wanted to see Waking Sleeping Beauty from the moment I heard about it. A documentary about the revival of Disney animation in the 80s and 90s directed and narrated by the producer of several of the films from that time sounded right up my alley. I had hoped to go out to New York to see it, but the timing never worked out. So I was very happy to discover that the film was coming to my home state, specifically one town over from where I live.

My thoughts on the film under the cut

R.I.P. Eddie Carroll

Thursday, April 15th, 2010

Eddie Carroll passed away last Tuesday, April 6, at age 76. He was a talented actor known for his one-man show in which he impersonated legendary comedian Jack Benny. He was also a writer and penned some scripts for television animation. But animation fans probably know him best – even if they didn’t know his name – as the current voice of Jiminy Cricket. Carroll got the part after Cliff “Ukelele Ike” Edwards – the original voice of Pinocchio’s miniscule conscience, passed away. He started in 1973 and continued to serve as the Cricket’s voice until his death. Carroll’s spot-on imitation of Edwards’ voice can be heard in countless TV shows, video games, Disney park attractions, and anywhere else that Jiminy made an appearance since the early 70s. The L.A. Times obituary discusses his life and various talents and font of pop culture knowledge Mark Evanier has posted a nice tribute on his site, along with several follow-up posts about Carroll and his work.

Joe Ranft Tribute

Monday, March 15th, 2010

Saturday, March 13, would have been the 50th birthday of accomplished story artist Joe Ranft. Ranft worked on Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King among other DIsney features, and all of the Pixar films up to Cars in 2006. He also occasionally left the drawing board for the microphone, providing voices for characters like Heimlich the caterpillar in A Bug’s Life and Wheezy the squeaky toy penguin from Toy Story 2. Tragically, Joe Ranft lost his life in a car accident five years ago. The above video – a story reel, appropriately enough – was created by Disney director John Musker and originally shown at the memorial service for Joe Ranft. If you can watch all the way through and not end up with a lump in your throat, you’re made of sterner stuff than I am.

Book Review – June Foray’s Autobiography

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009

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The title of the new autobiography of legendary voice actress June Foray is Did You Grow Up With Me, Too?, a question that I can readily answer “yes” to. Ms. Foray’s numerous voices are so ubiquitous throughout animation that I can’t say for certain where I first heard her. My parents tell me that the first movie I ever saw in theaters was Cinderella in which she provided the hisses and yowls for Lucifer the cat, so maybe that was it. But some of my clearest memories involving June Foray’s voice are of enjoying the adventures of Rocket J. Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose while visiting my grandparents. The first two words in the first chapter of Ms. Foray’s autobiography are “Springfield Massachusetts,” which is not only where June Foray grew up, but the location of my grandparent’s home where I curled up on the couch next to my grandma and watched Bullwinkle fail to pull a rabbit out of a hat. It was on that same couch that I watched a PBS special about Rocky and Bullwinkle and learned that there was a lady named June Foray who provided the voices for Rocky, the villainous Natasha Fatale, Dudley do-Right’s lady love Nell Fenwick a plethora of fairy godmothers, wicked witches, princesses, and countless other characters.

Chances are that you grew up with June Foray too, even if you don’t know it. Even if you somehow missed both Cinderella and the various incarnations of Rocky and Bullwinkle’s televised doings (Rocky and His Friends, The Bullwinkle Show, Adventures of Bullwinkle and Rocky, Rocky & Bullwinkle & Friends), you have almost certainly encountered her voice before. Did you ever see virtually any Looney Tunes short, movie, or TV show where Tweety’s Granny was in the cast? That’s June. Ever watch Bugs Bunny or Donald Duck get menaced by one of two very different looking witches who are both, surprisingly, named Witch Hazel? June voiced them both. Did you spend Saturday mornings in the 80s watching Adventures of the Gummi Bears and DuckTales? June was Grammi Gummi and Magica DeSpell, among others. Did you play with Chatty Cathy, Mattel’s popular pull-string talking doll? June was the original voice. Were you seriously creeped out by Chatty Cathy after seeing the very similar Talky Tina on an episode of The Twilight Zone? June also. Ever go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride? She’s in there too. I could easily go on, but you’d be reading credits all day and there’s still the book to get to.

My idea of what makes a good autobiography is much the same as my idea of what makes a good audio commentary on a DVD. I want to feel like I’m sitting down with someone and listening to that person’s first hand account of her or his life or work. The great strength of both autobiography and audio commentary is that the stories are coming directly from the people who lived them and, ideally, there’s no filter. They are free to talk about almost anything they wish to. Ms. Foray’s autobiography takes full advantage of this. Because the book is her story in her own words, she is able to relate whatever memories she feels are important for whatever reason, including moments that a biographer may have omitted because they seemed unimportant in the narrative of June Foray, voice actress. Her charm and personality come through in the writing, making the book a fun and engaging read.

The book starts off going chronologically, describing Foray’s childhood in Springfield, her family’s move to Los Angeles, and her early work in radio. But as Foray’s career starts to take shape, the chapters focus around her employment with different studios in various media: comedy records, dialogue looping for live-action films, and of course voice acting for animation, with whole sections devoted to her work and friendships with Chuck Jones and Jay Ward. (Foray is probably one of the only people – aside from maybe Sylvester Stallone – who can have a chapter in her autobiography called “My Rocky Life” that is about positive thing happening for her.) The format makes sense and plays well into the conversational feel of the book, but it can lead to some momentary confusion when Foray describes her first encounter with a fellow actor, then later recounts a story from before she had met him. But the confusion is fleeting and the separate focus on each stage of Foray’s career, even when they overlap in years, helps to put them in a much better context than time. Foray’s first meeting with Chuck Jones means much more when told as part of the story of their lifelong friendship than it would sandwiched in between all of the other work she was doing at the time she first met the legendary director.

I had plenty of reason to admire June Foray as a kid with an interest in animation and the people who make it happen. As an adult, I’ve found that I have even more reason to sing her praises. June Foray has long been a vocal champion of animation and had done much to increase the respect for the medium and recognition of the writers, artists, and actors who create animation in this country. I was very happy to find a chapter towards the end of the book that increased my knowledge of her work on this front. Foray was instrumental in making ASIFA-Hollywood into an organization active in encouraging and promoting the art of animation. The annual Annie Awards were her concept. While serving on the Board of Governors of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, she has fought to keep both animated and live-action short films from being bumped from Oscar broadcast and campaigned for a Best Animated Feature Award, a dream that became reality in 2005. Her voice acting credits alone make Foray a bona fide star, but her dedication to animation and to shining the spotlight on its often unsung talents make her a true hero of the industry.

I guess my biggest problem with the book is that there isn’t more of it. I know that sounds like the lamest possible criticism, but that was my reaction. I started reading the book wondering how such a slim volume could possibly tell me everything about June Foray’s life that I could ever want to know. While the book is packed with all sorts of fascinating stories and does not suffer from any glaring omissions that I noticed, I still could have easily read many pages more about Foray and her work, about how she crafts a voice for a character, about the many amazing people she’s met who had such an influence on animation, and the kind of jokes that were cracked when the microphones were off. More specifically, I’d love to know if Foray ever got in hot water with Mattel for giving voice to The Twilight Zone’s considerably less benign version of the doll. I do know more about June Foray now than I did before reading the book, but I still wonder what more I might have learned had the book been two hundred, even three hundred pages long instead of just over one hundred sixty.

The last chapter before the epilogue is a collection of eulogies that Foray has given over the years, some for people she only met briefly, others for longtime friends. Reading through them, I was reminded of how every year we say goodbye to more people whose impact on animation will outlive them and more stories, more tricks of the trade, and more seemingly trivial little anecdotes go with them. Foray never mentions her own age (which you can look up for yourself if you want to, because I’m not risking her wrath), but Rocky first took flight fifty years ago and he was far from the first character June Foray gave voice to. So many of the original voices of Rocky’s friends and foes have gone silent and I can only imagine what tales and memories they took with them. It’s comforting to know that fans of June Foray who can’t meet her in person for whatever reason will always have a way of knowing her better. Did You Grow Up With Me, Too? will be there for people who grew up with June Foray and kids who have yet to put a name to the voices in their favorite cartoons.

Did You Grow Up With Me, Too? is available at many fine bookstores and online retailers. But if you want an autographed copy like mine above, you’ll want to order the book directly from her website.

UPDATE: Mark Evanier, who assisted Ms. Foray in writing her autobiography, has just stated on his website that time is running out to order and autographed copy of the book. The book will still be available to purchase, but once the last of the current stock of signed copies sell, you will have to track Ms. Foray down at a public appearance to get her autograph. So if you’re thinking you’d like a signed copy of the book, now’s the time to order.