Animation
is a series of images that approximates movement through whatever techniques
are employed. However, the right music can really make those visuals come
alive. There are several excellent examples in the 19th Annual
Animation Show of Shows, which opens tomorrow in New York, at the Quad Cinema.
The
projectionist better crank up the bass for the opener, Quentin Baillieux’s “Can
You Do It.” Essentially, it is a music video for Charles X’s catchy and groovy
title tune, but the urbane urban images are just as distinctive. We follow a Fast and Furious-style drag race through
the streets of LA, but with horses instead of cars. We are talking about a
seriously cool three minutes here.
Pete
Docter’s Student Academy Award-winning Next
Door is also a shorty, but it is rather sweet and inventive. Using the real-life
musings of a little girl at play, it shows how young and old can come together—in
this case through the love of the kazoo.
Jac
Clinch’s The Alan Dimension is more
about dialogue than music and atmosphere, but it is quite witty and even
somewhat science fiction-related, in a roundabout way. The titular Alan is formerly
milk toast retiree who is convinced he is the next Nostradamus, but his
long-suffering wife considers him more of a Criswell.
This
year’s Show of Shows also includes a restoration of Paul Julian & Les
Goldman’s adaptation of Maurice Ogden’s poem Hangman, originally published in the Communist publication Masses and Mainstream. Intended as a
commentary on McCarthyism, it features a demonic gallows-keeper executing intimidated
townsfolk one by one, as their neighbors fearfully submit to his authority. Of course,
two years later American Communists did their best to look the other way, while
Soviet tanks crashed into Hungary. Yet, there is still some value in its
message. Especially now that the Left has officially gotten out of the 1st
Amendment business. The Libertarian movement is now the only advocate for your
most fundamental rights as a citizen, which is terrifying, considering how
organized they are. To paraphrase Martin Niemöller: “first they came for the
alt-right and I did not speak out, because they’re distasteful jerks.”
So,
where were we? Julian & Goldman’s visuals are indeed quite stark and powerful,
but it is Serge Hovey’s eerie score (which swings lightly yet darkly) that
really gives the film its kick. It notably features the under-appreciated and under-recorded
jazz pianist Calvin Jackson and the West Coast session stalwart, percussionist
Emil [Richards] Radocchia. As an added bonus for jazz fans, Herschel Bernardi from
Peter Gunn serves as the narrator.
Easily,
the biggest standout of the set is Aurore Gal, Clémentine Frère, Yukiko
Meignien, Anna Mertz, Robin Migliorelli, & Romain Salvini’s Gokurosama. Set entirely within a
Japanese shopping center before opening hours, it follows an elderly bento box
maker, who seeks treatment from the mall’s chiropractor when her back goes out,
with the help of her good-hearted assistant. Gokurosama reaches a level of gentle visual and physical humor
truly worthy of Jacques Tati, while also knowingly but affectionately satirizing
Japanese consumerist culture. This is one that calls for repeated viewing to
catch all the sly, subtle details.
Alas,
it is followed by the worst in show, Kobe Bryant’s ode to himself, Dear Basketball, animated by Glen Keane.
He was always true to the game, or so they would have us believe. Of course,
they do not trouble our little heads with the sexual assault allegation he
settled out of court. Bryant actually released a statement that said: “Although
I truly believe this encounter between us was consensual, I recognize now that
she did not and does not view the incident the same way I did.” Wow, how 2004
was that? Wouldn’t you like to get Rose McGowan’s take on that one?
Niki
Lindroth von Bahr’s The Burden is
probably the most acclaimed new film of the batch—and it’s a musical to boot.
Its surreal sensibilities are impressive, but it mostly just hits equivalent
notes rather than building to a crescendo. On the other hand, Tomer Eshed’s
nature film satire, Our Wonderful Nature—The
Common Chameleon is pretty straight forward, but quite droll.
Steven
Woloshen’s Casino was conceived as a
riff on Norman McLaren’s work, using gambling motifs and aptly enough, the
music of the Oscar Peterson Trio, just like McLaren’s classic, Begone Dull Care. Peterson’s massively
up-tempo take on “Something’s Coming” could make anything come alive, so it is
impossible to not enjoy this abstract but refreshingly lively film.
David
O’Reilly’s Everything is a fitting
closer, matching archival recordings of British philosopher Alan Watts in a
Stephen Hawking bag, accompanied by some suitably cosmic visuals. Frankly, O’Reilly
makes his pre-Ted Talk speeches sound more profound than they really were,
which is good filmmaking.
There
are a few other constituent films that are undeniably quite artistically
rendered, but do not have a lot of substance as cinematic statements.
Nevertheless, it is always nice to see distinctive craftsmanship on screen.
Recommended for animation fans (despite the presence of Kobe Bryant’s ego trip),
the 19th Annual Animation Show of Shows opens tomorrow (12/29) in New
York, at the Quad Cinema.