Talk the Walk and Walk the Talk

The burning bridge between Theory and Practice never seemed more obvious to me than Marv Newland’s presentation at ECI earlier in June of his work spanning the last 30 years. The fact that his presentation was strong, concise and laden with information further exaggerates the dilemma that exists in Animation- the inability of the medium to create a vocabulary that translates and speaks to a wider critical audience, including itself.

Marv Newland is an Animation Producer/Director who people in the animation community would refer to as one of the ‘old timers’ in the North American industry. An artist who has left his mark in the independent stream as well as the bigger mainstream production houses. One of the featured Animation artists in the KRAZY show currently on at the Vancouver Art Gallery, he catapulted into his career with ‘Bambi meets Godzilla’ in 1969, which by nature of its duration and dark humor stood him apart from the rest. He later founded his own company International Rocketship Limited, where he produced and directed several award winning shorts such as ‘Sing Beast Sing’ (1980), ‘Anijam’ (1984), ‘Hooray For Sandbox Land’ (1984), ‘Black Hula’ (1988), ‘Pink KomKommer’ (1991), ‘FUV’ (1999) and ‘Beijing Flipbook’ (2003).

If the medium is the message, Marv’s medium of presentation surely had a message. Instead of opening up a laptop notebook, he opened his attaché from where he took out newspaper clippings, cut outs from magazines and comic strips, and original cel paintings that dated back 50 years. He started his presentation by talking about his childhood interests, and his passion for comic art. He went over several artists in a chronological manner, naming (amongst several others) ‘Tom Terrific’ by Gene Deitch as an early inspiration and Saul Steinberg simply as ‘God’! His ‘pre-analog’ OHP presentation was as much of an animation history class as much as it was a timeline of his career.

During his presentation, he explained some of the basic techniques and methods involved in the animation process, like the ‘rubber hose’ style that was prevalent in the 1920’s. As the audience consisted of Visual Art students primarily, he broke down the various steps in creating easily animateable characters as well as the broader cel animation process. The two films that he ended his presentation with were ‘Anijam’ (1984) and ‘Black Hula’ (1988). As delightful and informative as his presentation was, the question and answer session that followed didn’t prove to be very inspiring. Some of the questions that students asked him ranged from old (and very obsolete) questions of whether he preferred Classical 2D animation, or the new age 3D style… He answered this question in a rhetorical way, linking Classical animation to drawing and art, and 3D computer animation to larger corporations, which he conceded was the way the world was moving towards. Another ‘pedestrian’ question that was asked was the specific name of the technique where an animated image ‘moved around and jiggled’, which he answered in one word- ‘Boil’. As an animator, I found these questions so basic and dated (and so hung up on technique), that I could not help but think that they were wasted on a person as knowledgeable as Marv Newland.

The only question that remotely hinted at ‘content’ from a critical position was from a lady who asked Mr. Newland about his political intentions while making ‘Black Hula’. This question, and more so his answer to the question introduces a new facet to my position in this paper- ‘How do Animators position themselves as critical producers of media?’ Or what I really want to ask is ‘Why don’t Animators think of themselves as critical producers of media?’ He answered her question jokingly by saying that A. He never had anything important to say and B. No one was listening anyway! His response was met with a laugh, and the topic of conversation moved to something else related to the film, but I couldn’t help but wonder how this question and answer resounded in a larger context of Media Literacy, both for producers as well as viewers.

In ‘Semiotic Domains: Is playing Video Games a waste of time?’ the author James Paul Gee argues that there are several forms of literacy, apart from traditional reading and writing. Commenting on the various forms of media (either visual, literary or auditory)

Each of these domains has its own rules and requirements. Each is a culturally and historically separate way of reading and writing, and, in that case, a different literacy. Furthermore, in each case, if we want to ‘break the rules’ and read against the grain of the text- for the purpose of critique, for instance- we have to do so in different ways, usually with some relative deep knowledge of how to read such texts “according to the rules”. (Gee, James Paul. What Video Games have to Teach Us about Learning and Literacy. New York: Palgrave Macmillan 2004, 14)

If Animation demands a form of audio-visual literacy, we as producers and viewers need to define the vocabulary and the means by which we can critique and assess it. There can be no doubt that this medium is very much a part of mainstream media, and thus a part of the larger scrutiny involved in media practice. James Gee goes on to say ‘On one hand, producers are deeply enough embedded in their social practices that they can understand the texts associated with those practices quite well. On the other hand, producers are often so deeply embedded in their social practices that they take the meanings and values of the texts associated with those practices for granted in an unquestioning way. One key question for deep learning and good education, then is how to get producer-like learning and knowledge, but in a reflecting and critical way?’ (Gee, James Paul. What Video Games have to Teach Us about Learning and Literacy. New York: Palgrave Macmillan 2004, 16)

We only need to switch on the television to open ourselves to the vast array of genres that exist only in the domain of animation. Are we to look beyond cartoons meant for children or Pixar’s latest seasonal blockbuster (amongst many other examples) as raw material for thought? Can we look deeper and examine how the cartoons and characters we create are reflections of the psychic that dominate the mainstream society of our time? The highly racist (and entertaining) cartoon series ‘Betty Boop and Bimbo’ designed by the Fleischer Brothers in the mid 30’s were a fitting reflection of how society perceived notions of equality, be it between the sexes or between racial stereotypes. In the same way, Marv Newland’s ‘Black Hula’ is as much of a political reaction and commentary to the timeless theme of colonization as much as any literary work that exists in a book. The challenge lies in creating a vocabulary that bridges the vast gap that exists between critical theory and the more ‘hands-on’ practice in the field of animation, and my hunch is that if this happens, the ever-burning bridge between technique and content will cease to exist.