Suzie’s assembled some links and some information in a downloadable guide.

Teddy Shall Teach You Tonight

Suzie’s detailed every part of her process, including many of the planning stages I also emphasize.  You can see her script, storyboards, animatic, production cels, timing notes, and the final.  The whole thing is available as a 99 page PDF download from the link above.  Go get it!

Suzie’s approach is definitely a good marriage of old-school techniques (drawing on paper, scanning it in) and new-fangled stuff (ink and paint in the computer, finishing and posting to YouTube).  She’s got great tips for keeping the costs down – including some pretty common sensical notions, like using an older used scanner.  I’ve got the same one she does!

SUNDAY July 26th – 1:00 PM – 2:00 PM
San Diego Comic-Con – at the Watson-Guptill Table – Booth 1128

Come by!  Say hello!

• July 15th – 7:00 PM
  Ravenna Third Place Books – 17171 Bothell Way NE, Lake Forest Park, WA 98155
• July 16th – 7:30 PM
  Powell’s –  1005 W Burnside, Portland, OR 97209
  Here’s their event calendar: [link]
• July 19th - 1:00 PM – 3:00 PM
  Cartoon Art Museum - 655 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA 94105
• July 26th – 1:00 PM – 2:00 PM
  San Diego Comic-Con – at the Watson-Guptill Table – Booth 1128

Click on me and find out why he bothered to write about me.

I find this worth mentioning because it is a pet theory of mine that many American animation studios miscast their voices because they do not understand how to do it properly. With the emphasis clearly on “star” talent rather than interesting voices, many cartoons end up with boring characters. Not so in the old days.  Sterling Holloway was never a star, just a hard-working character actor with a great face and an even better voice. Ed Wynn and Mel Blanc were big on radio, where interesting voices mattered. Voice actors were always credited and there were always star talents. But they weren’t chosen for their on-screen personas in live action films.

Somewhere along the line it became fashionable for the studios to cast big names in the world of live-action filmmaking instead of interesting voices.  It’s likely this happened in the 80s, when most of the really crappy filmmaking practices came to fruition.  In any event, it has lead us to today’s situation, in which most voice talent is cast because of star power as actors rather than their actual talent as voice actors.

Which is why the interview about “Up” was so exciting to hear.  The Pixar boys are doing it right again – this time by designing a character and sharing that design with the voice actor – letting his performance guide the design, but also – and this is the interesting part – letting him SEE the character he is portraying.

Here’s where the theory part comes in.  I have seen numerous DVD featurettes showing voice actors reading their lines in recording studios.  In many of them, you can see the actors working from scripts.  But you never see any drawings.  I can’t help but think that this both leaves the voice actor with little guidance as well as it makes the board artists and animators sloppy.  If the actors could see the pictures of what they are voicing, they would have more input, and probably an even better idea what to do.

This is upside-down – shouldn’t the director and animators decide what works best for the story they are telling and then invite the actors to create with them?

The second part:

Why is it that I seem to prefer Japanese voice artists?  For one thing, there is an entire industry of people who work solely as voice artists.  They are chosen for their vocal talents, and not for their acting abilities in live-action work.  Does anyone know if there is much or any cross-over?

I also notice that Japanese voice artists seem more adept at making sounds that work with the drawings.  A character may gasp, gurgle, or bleat in a way that would never work in live action.  But because the sound the actor makes seems to go along with the picture, it works.  I do not know for sure, but I would bet that the Japanese industry works more from storyboards in the voice recording sessions than from a script without pictures.  Just a guess – can anyone corroborate?

Similarly, the American industry, with their focus on stars, seem to miss the point on casting specific voices that add depth and quality to the characters portrayed.  Often it seems like they’ve been randomly assigned.

Here is the one that gets under my skin the most.  It’s a small clip from Hayao Miyazaki’s “Howl’s Moving Castle.”  You might be aware that Disney bought the rights to Miyazaki’s whole catalog.  They have been releasing DVDs of each film with  dubbed soundtracks.  This is good for the young set, who may not be able to read subtitles fast enough.  But though the Disney dubs are labor-intensive, expensive, technically accurate exercises, they also rely on “star” casting rather than conveying identical qualities of voice.

Compare these two tiny sections of the English and Japanese versions. Watch the original, Japanese one, first.

Download mp4

Download mp4

Right away you notice one thing.  In the proper version, Tatsuya Gashūin’s voice has specific qualities that Billy Crystal’s does not.  No matter what, Billy Crystal sounds like an old Jewish guy, which he is.  No problem with that, except is this the proper voice for this character?  Even though you may not understand the Japanese version (I cannot) you probably notice that Tatsuya Gashūin’s Calcifer sounds like a rude teenager.  This is a big key to the character.

SPOILER ALERT

Calicifer, the fire-demon, has made a pact with the Howl back when Howl was a child. Howl should be a responsible adult, but he is immature, childish, and full of himself.  Howl’s eventual maturation will be a big theme in the film.  This will coincide with the breaking of the pact.  Howl’s maturity comes as a result of shedding the childish pact.  So, of course Calicifer should sound like a sullen teen!  His development is arrested, just like Howl’s!

What place does Billy Crystal’s old Jewish man voice have in this schema?  How can that add to theme?  It runs counter to it, and an entire level of depth and meaning is lost.

Saturday June 6th, 6PM
Meltdown Comics and Collectibles
7522 Sunset Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90046
323.851.7223

There will be milk and cookies, plus an animation demo! Come by and say hello. Bring pals. Let Meltdown know it was worthwhile having me come down. But most of all, meet up close and personal like.

The example he gives on the disc is just one of three I intended to make, but after the first one I realized it might be tedious listening to this robot tell you how many frames each cut had.  It’s still a good exercise, though, as examining footage and writing down timing really does help you get a grasp for what works.

I was defending anime to a colleague once (who detests Japanese cartoons – probably solely based on their popularity, mind you) and I was telling him that I thought most anime shows were brilliantly timed.  This is, of course, to make up for the fact that they are not fully animated.  If you do not have the time, energy, or budget for full animation – as in the case with all television and most of our personal projects – then this kind of timing would be good to know.

I took as my example a small sequence from “School Rumble,” a 2005 TV series directed Shinji Takamatsu.  In the scene, a martial arts expert, has offered to demonstrate to his female classmate (on whom he has a crush) why she needs to defend herself against perverts and n’er-do-wells. What he does not know, and what we do know, is that she can read his thoughts.

You can watch the full sequence here:

Here is a chart with the timings.  The shots are numbered and timings are given for 24s as well as 30s.  This cartoon was made for NTSC TV, so it was timed on 30s, but you may want to know the equivalents in 24.  I use the standard denotation of “X” for “frames.”  So “24x” means “24 frames.”  It’s old man stuff.  The column marked “On” lets you know how many frames per drawing – shot on 1s, 2s, 3s, or a hold.  And finally, the action column tells you what is going on.  Tiny scribbly thumbnails simplify the frames for reference.

#	24s	30s	On	Action	Picture Reference
1.	21x	26x	3s	The expert takes his first martial arts stance.
2.	27x	34x	3s	The expert slowly moves attacking arm forward to make a grab.
2.	39x	49x	H	The expert pauses, some dialogue.
3.	5x	6x	2s	She blinks.
4.	6x	8x	2s	He starts for her right arm.
5.	16x	20x	2s/1s	BG on 1s, He grabs for her arm and misses.
6.	6x	8x	2s	His hand grasps the arm where her arm isn’t.
6.	8x	10x	1s	Zoom out to include all of the girl in the shot.
6.	36x	45x	2s	Very slow motion of his fist missing her by a fair distance, she watches passively, hair moves in wind.
7.	60x	75x	2s/1s	BG moves slowly on 1s. He is in amazement he has missed.
8.	39x	49x	1s	Camera move only, figures are still. They face off, he is at ready position, she is watching.
8.	46x	58x	1s	No movement, titles, indicating his next move: “Now I will grab her left arm…” She can, of course, read his thoughts.
9.	14x	18x	2s	He lowers head, ready for his move.
10.	32x	40x	H	Pause for his line.
11.	18x	22x	2s	He runs across screen, legs only.
12.	29x	36x	1s	He grabs at her, but she steps neatly out of the way.
13.	48x	60x	2s/1s	BG on 1s, She is passive, wind blowing hair, as she sidesteps.
14.	36x	45x	2s/1s	BG on 1s, low angle, he grabs for her leg and misses.
15.	48x	60x	2s/1s	BG on 1s, She is passive, wind blowing hair, as she sidesteps, different angle.
15.	72x	90x	2s	He grabs at her nine times and misses each one.
16.	108x	135x	2s	She, in close up, dodges his moves (6 times).
17.	96x	120x	2s/1s	BG on 1s, slow zoom in on him for his line.
18.	20x	25x	2s	Her brows narrow – she’s angry now.
19.	18x	22x	2s	She grabs his right arm with her left in close up.
20.	8x	10x	1s	Zoom out – She already has him on the ground.
21.	84x	80x	H	Same shot, the crowd watches his defeat.

Analysis

This is a television cartoon, so it uses as little art as possible. This is not at the expense of getting the job done, but because the schedules involved in TV production are so dreadful as to require cost cutting measures as often as possible. Different shows have their approaches to the TV budget. This one uses a lot of holds, for example. A “hold” is a period in which the art does not change at all – a still image is used, perhaps with a panning camera movement. Camera movements, accomplished entirely within the software or editing system, are easy to do and cost almost nothing to implement. There are instances where slight camera movement stands in for character movement. In these cases it is even more important to have a developed sense of timing.

The first thing to note in this sequence is that the timer has alternated shots with long holds and shots with very quick movements. This contrast of short, sharp motion and long extended holds gives the cartoon a snappy feel, even as it reduces the artwork necessary. The next is that the timer has a very fluid concept of how long certain actions take, and that these are primarily dictated by the emotions of the characters. The timer elongates passages that would take a fraction of a second in real life to much longer on screen not only to heighten the action, but to provide comic contrast for the latter part of the sequence. It is much funnier for the martial arts expert to be in the state of heightened awareness, conscious of every slow move that does not connect, only to follow that up with incredibly rapid-fire attempts to connect that have the same result.

This epic elongation of time is characteristic of anime more than American or European animation, and seems to have its precedent in manga (Japanese comics), where artists will similarly pace small actions and a few moments over several pages. In turn, manga is probably influenced by Chinese and Japanese film directors, specifically in the martial arts genre. Many anime stories, including ones that take place in high school, have the timing and “feel” of martial arts films.

Note that the humor in this scene comes from the way in which contrasting timings are juxtaposed. The slow, measured, drawn out time is mildly amusing, but doesn’t provoke outward laughter – it’s a setup for the bigger jokes later. These gags get more charge from being more quickly paced and drawn more wildly – it’s a play of stylized time, action and art. Slow is serious and fast is comic. Slow encourages you to experience the situation with the characters, identifying with their lightning-fast thought processes by slowing them down into discrete notions and specific lines of dialogue. The fast sections suggest we are outside the character’s head, and suggest a spectator’s position – watching the exaggerated movements and comic staging. Similarly the slow sections feature characters who are drawn more realistically, whereas the comic sections show simple character expressions.

You can trace through all the action at your leisure, but just consider this set of movements from the sequence. Starting at #11, the build-up for the martial artist’s next attempt to attack the girl is five and a half seconds. He bursts forward, in 18 frames – a little over 2/3 of a second. For almost seven seconds we watch as he misses her. This would be instantaneous if timed as a realistic action, and probably would not even take 24 frames. The timer and director realized they wanted several story points to take precedence over “realistic” timing. In that seven seconds they wanted to show not only the slow motion of the grab missing her leg, but they wanted to linger on her passive expression as she easily steps aside. The next set of blows take 8 frames apiece! He is striking out at her at the rate of 3 hits per second, which is probably impossible for human beings. We get not only the contrast of slow motion and hyper-fast action, but the humor of the movements contrasted and the strange narrative elongation of time to simulate the series of lightning-quick thoughts that go into the mind of someone full of adrenaline, going into their “battle mode.”

It’s not magic.  It’s hard work.  And it’s the experience the director, timers, and animators all have that make this kind of thing work.  Best of all, it’s never been easier to check this kind of work.  No longer do we have to animate it all out to final art before we can see if the timing works.  You can just edit sketches in a video editing program until you get a good feel for it.  Try it!

Apparently, more people than I thought.

The American Animation Industry

Some of you may read “Get Animated” in an attempt to catch up on current industry practices. Indeed, there are lots of them to be found in those pages. But some of the methods described there are ignored or abused in studios all over. Though the book describes some of the best and most efficient practices possible, many of which are general knowledge amongst artists and animators, they are not universally used in production animation.

To explain why, first you must understand a few things about the American Animation Industry, and why it is so terribly mismanaged. Practices which would seem perfectly reasonable are routinely bypassed to cut costs. Planning is eschewed in favor of miscommunication, mishandling, and misappropriation of resources and funds. Most of this confusion can be traced to one single vector.

Animation, like so many American industries, suffers from a proliferation of MBAs, middle-level managers and “executives.” It is a common belief in America that one should never pay the “workers” anything, and the management classes have a duty to farm out the labor for any enterprise to the lowest bidder. The MBA hopes this labor will be in another country (hence “global,” which is supposedly good, but really means no work at home) and will, because of economies of scale, be many times cheaper. This is because managers hate to pay labor any amount of money, and consider employees and craftsmen as bothersome but interchangeable units that can be hired, fired, and laid off whenever the profits dip below their “proper” levels.

This style of management has one very damaging effect. It stifles creativity and imagination as it creates the perfect environment for confusion and mediocrity.

I was once employed by an animation company (the name is not important because they are all guilty) that demonstrated this in the most obvious manner. The manager above me was given incentives to push my crew’s deadline sooner than expected. Instead of the week it took us to deliver a certain amount of material, could we make it four days? Three? Why the mania to push the work through faster when the deadlines for the network were the same?

Well, if he succeeded in pushing us harder, he could lay us off sooner, and then he would collect a bonus for saving money. If we played ball with him, working harder because we felt like we were helping out the team, the money we would NOT be paid for a week’s worth of labor could go straight into this manager’s pocket. He was pushing us to work harder for less so that he could get the money.

Under such a system can any good work be made?

The history of production animation will show that labor has been farmed out to Mexico in the 50’s, Japan in the 70’s, Korea in the 80’s, and now China and India in the 2000’s. Antarctica may be next if we can only train the penguins to use a mouse.

The MBAs will tell you that Americans cannot do the job for the money, and that we MUST use foreign labor.  Yet no one really knows if an American animation studio can be run using 100% American labor because no one has done it in 30 years. Everyone says it will be too expensive, because we will have to pay those pesky premiums like living wages, insurance, union dues, and benefits. Of course with foreign labor you get all kinds of problems, including extremely high retake rates, language barriers, loss of quality, and money spent sending executives overseas to oversee the operation. Untold thousands are spent on FedEx charges, plane tickets, and other band-aid solutions – money which does not go into training an efficient staff to do quality work at home.

Can good animation be done in the US with local labor? Anyone who says “no” is in the camp of the enemy and cannot be trusted. The correct answer is “nobody knows,” because no one is doing it. Animation is tough work that needs many hands to accomplish. It requires thousands of individual frames and hours of labor by skilled technicians. It costs money to do it on a large scale, and everyone knows this.

One of the big problems with American entertainment has been the shift away from the work itself and onto the process of getting money, distributing it, and collecting profits. All those aspects are important, but if there is no care as to the quality of the product the art form suffers.

Yes, I do realize it is possible to receive a Master’s of Business Administration and not be stupid, thoughtless, arrogant, and ineffective. I fear I have maligned someone in your family, or some nice person you know who would never act so carelessly. Perhaps you, yourself, have such a degree or work in a position similar to that which I’ve described. If that is the case, then hooray! Maybe you can learn about what you should be doing, and how you can help creative projects get underway.

What do you think?  Does this sound xenophobic?  Is it a pipe dream to consider making cartoons without sending them overseas?  Can anyone start a studio that could be successful in the American market against the cheap bids from China and India?

So why this emphasis on “animation screenplays?”   Why are they written if they do not help the final product?  Why do studios spend millions of dollars developing a screenplay?  Why are there books being sold telling you how to write one?  And are they bogus?

Who knows the answers to any of those questions?  They just make my head hurt.  If you know the answers tell me.  But here are some possible explanations.

Executives, bosses, and MBAs like screenplays because they think the form is somehow necessary to produce a “good” story.  They’ve been told that good stories are important, and somehow equate with success. “Success” they understand, because that equals money.  They have often attended expensive writing and story seminars by screenplay gurus.  At these seminars they are taught flashy new jargon like “story point,” “three-act structure,” and “inciting incident.”  None of these will, as Mark Newgarden is fond of saying, “make the bunny cuter;” none of them will improve the animation nor will any of them make a good film.

It is in the interests of screenwriting gurus to make it appear so, however.

OK, maybe we’ll back up a bit.  After all, I wrote a book, too, and I like to think it has important information in it.  Let’s not jump to conclusions about screenwriting gurus, I guess.  Many of them are very bright people who have thought quite a bit about how to tell stories.  But what they know, though it may have some application to telling a story through animation, is not suited to the process of animation.

The screenplay format has gone through numerous changes since it began in the teens and 20s.  Initially films were written in all manner of styles, and in formats ranging from a general prose-style summation of the scenario to a version of the format we generally use today.  Our current template survives because it was best suited to industrial motion picture production in the 1930s and 40s.  This includes formatting dialogue so that it reads at a rate of about 1 minute of screen time per page as well as offsetting locations and times-of-day so that schedulers can quickly break down the number of shooting days required for production.

None of that has anything to do with making cartoons.  This is the first problem.

The second problem is that the MBA/boss/executive actually knows very little about storytelling or animation. Ostensibly they know something about business, and running companies.  But they may have little or no experience in the filed they are being an executive in.

In fact, most of them are at a total loss as to what makes a good story.  They might attend an expensive screenwriting master class.  Some will be convinced they now know everything they need to make a brilliant film.  Some will throw out the terms and complain that the “structure” isn’t quite right.  But most still understand, deep down, that they’re going to have to hire writers.

The writers they do hire don’t really understand animation either.  Yes, they may have seen animated films, and they may have even studied the scripts of dozens of cartoons.  But animation requires way more effort and thinking than just writing down what characters say to each other.  In any given animated film, dozens or maybe hundreds of people have worked day and night on character design, timing, expressions, actions, and effects.  ALL of these elements are required to make any “story,” not just the writing part.  A screenplay, at best, is a blueprint.  There’s a whole lot more work to be done before it can be called a film.

The “story” of any given cartoon might be terrible, and the film could still succeed.  The cinemas are full of feature length cartoons boasting uneven—sometimes dreadful—stories, but appealing factors like vivid characters, terrific design, and an end result that leaves moviegoers wanting for more.  A film can even have a hackneyed, corny story, but an original voice TELLING that story can leave us all enraptured.

Yet there was something dreadfully wrong. Raggedy Ann just didn’t look right, and certainly didn’t move right, and the results were entirely unacceptable. No matter what software you use, computers aren’t good at giving drawings that human touch. The computer is a brilliant tool for removing the tedium, yet it doesn’t remove the need for hard work and focused effort.

There are no shortcuts for genuine quality—anything that’s difficult for you to accomplish will be even more difficult for a computer. Or worse yet, your robot servant will cheerfully accomplish the task you assigned it, and the results will be just what you would expect from a robot.

Please don't vectorize me!

Does anyone remember seeing this? Years later I can only assume that this was some kind of research done around the time Richard Williams was animating “The Raggedy Ann Movie.”  Obviously his team did not use the technology for the feature; maybe they had the same feeling about the quality.