Santa Fe ’24: Slide

Sourdough Creek is a town without slow music. By and large, it is also a town without pity. Mayor Jeb Carver is mostly to blame on both scores. Much to his consternation, a traveling slide guitarist challenges Carvey’s authority in director-animator-producer Bill Plympton’s Slide, which screens today during the 2024 Santa Fe Film Festival.

He is only known as “Slide,” because that is what he plays. Slide is the sort of journeyman guitar slinger who illustrates the Americana-roots music fraternity between the blues and old school country. It is the 1940s, but the former lumber town of Sourdough Creek still looks and feels like the old frontier. However, the modern world comes calling, when a Hollywood producer decides to shoot his next epic on-location in and around Sourdough Creek.

Slide’s arrival is much less heralded. His visit nearly ends prematurely, when Mayor Carver threatens to shoot him for playing slow tempos in his sin-soaked saloon. Fortunately, Carver’s twin brother Zeke intercedes, because he notices Slide’s sad songs sell more booze. They need the money for the ridiculously grandiose casino they are building, to cater to the Hollywood jet-set.

They still don’t like Slide—and he recognizes them for what they are. As a result, he befriends their sworn enemy, the human-sized insectoid avenger known as “Hell Bug,” and one of their victims, Deliliah, a sensitive vocal stylist, forced to work as a bargirl and, you know, other stuff.

Essentially, Slide is a Western, but in a gothic Americana kind of way. There are also a lot of weird fantastical elements that are perfectly suited to Plympton’s style of animation. Frankly, he is probably one of the few animators whose work is instantly recognizable. Slide is him through and through, which is cool.

Hitler’s Folly: Bill Plympton Goes for Broke

If there is ever a sequel to The Last Laugh, Ferne Pearlstein’s documentary about humor and the Holocaust, Bill Plympton is guaranteed to be the focus of an extended sequence. His latest film purports to reveal the untold history of National Socialism, as masterminded by animator and fanboy Adolf Hitler. The best news is it won’t even cost you to get offended. Plympton is releasing the mostly live-action and faux archival footage Hitler’s Folly (trailer here) free on his website, Plymptoons, starting today.

Everyone should know by now Hitler was once an aspiring but tragically mediocre artist. Apparently, he was also quite a fan of Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, which became Plympton’s jumping off point. (Imagine if Hitler had seen the Kristen Stewart version, but that speculation will have to wait for another film of defiantly questionable taste.) In this alternate universe, Hitler actually became an animator in the Disney tradition, whose grand ambition was to make a four hour animated Nibelungenlied, featuring his poor man’s version of Donald Duck.

In the early days, the oblivious Hitler’s National Animation Cinema Institute (NACI) held their first meet-up in Nuremberg, because that was where Germany’s best comic book store was found. Eventually, he launched a large campaign in France hoping to find the author of the Babar books. Initially, he formed a co-production deal with Stalin, but they had a falling out over foreign markets and subsidiary rights.

Okay, does anyone have a problem with any of that? Surely so, but at least a fair amount of Plympton’s jokes are funny. Even in a post-Sarah Silverman era, this is edgy stuff, but Plympton is really mocking Hitler, making him look ridiculous, much like the Pythons did in innumerable skits. Still, it is always possible David Irving and his like could seize on Folly as a supposedly exculpatory source, but it would only make them look even more foolish.

There are times Plympton takes the joke too far, but you get the feeling making Folly was a giddily liberating experience from him. As if the film needed anymore cult appeal, Dana Ashbrook from Twin Peaks gamely appears as the regular dude who uncovers this secret history. If you are in the mood for transgressive humor, Folly will be tough to beat. If you are easily offended, you should already be avoiding Plympton’s work on general principle. Look, it is funny, often in the worst way imaginable, so partake accordingly. Recommended for Plympton fans, Labour Party officials, and those who enjoy a spot of edginess (bordering on tastelessness), Hitler’s Folly now streams for free on Plymptoons.

NYICFF ’15: Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet

He was born into a Maronite Catholic family and wrote his best known work in English, but Kahlil Gibran was subsequently embraced as a symbol of Arab culture. Without question, his best known work is The Prophet, arguably the original break-out New Age bestseller, whose celebrity admirers include Elvis Presley, John Lennon, and Salma Hayek. Her regard for the instantly recognizable Knopf title was such that she produced a big screen animated adaptation of the book few would have thought adaptable. The ambition and animation are definitely impressive, but the source material remains unwieldy in Roger Allers’ Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet (trailer here), which screens during this year’s New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In order to give the film a central storyline, Allers took some liberties with the framing device. The exiled prophet Mustafa (here more of a hipster painter and poet) is indeed bidding a fond farewell to the citizens of Orphalese, but he will not simply hop on the tall ship and sail off into the sunset. The oppressive Pasha and his thuggish police sergeant are planning permanent measures to halt his progressive influence before they let him go anywhere. The resulting narrative is like a weird passion play, with the assorted peasants in the countryside and merchants in town celebrating his presumed release with much feasting and drinking. At each stop along the way, Mustafa gives the crowd a pithy bit of prose poetry wisdom that are impressionistically rendered by a diverse roster of animators.

No longer is Almitra a seer. She is now the rebellious mute daughter of Kamila, the widowed housekeeper hired to tidy up the prophet’s exile cottage. Sharing a connection with the island’s seagulls, she is the first to suspect the fate awaiting Mustafa. Presumably, these liberties taken with the text pass muster with the Gibran establishment, given their active role in the production.

Regardless, the film as a whole is necessarily uneven, since Allers and Hayek-Pinault (as she is billed here) deliberately embrace its episodic structure. Not surprisingly, the best sequences are “On Love” animated by Tomm Moore (Song of the Sea) and “On Marriage” crafted by Joann Sfar (The Rabbi’s Cat). The abstract nature of the texts are also particularly well suited to the styles of Nina Paley (Sita Sings the Blues) and Bill Plympton (Cheatin’). However, the other four parables largely blend together.

Following in the footsteps of Richard Harris’s Arif Mardin-produced musical interpretation of The Prophet, Liam Neeson continues the Irish Gibran tradition as the voice of Mustafa. To be fair, his husky, reassuring tones are rather well suited to the film. Hayek-Pinault is perfectly serviceable as Kamila. (Since she is once again playing a mother facing difficult circumstances, Prophet should really be considered a companion film to Everly and the two should be screened together whenever possible). Quvenzhané Wallis gets precious little actual dialogue as Almitra (but perhaps that is just as well), while Alfred Molina does his best to keep up with the slapstick humor directed at his pompous Sergeant.

Whatever you do, always observe the authorial possessive in the title, like “Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” Although the film’s cultish impetus is a little creepy, it is intriguing to see such a high profile attempt at impressionistic, non-narrative animated filmmaking. Unfortunately, some of the contributing filmmakers are better suited to the task than others. A strange hybrid, Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet is recommended for animation enthusiasts who want to see something a little outside the norm (whereas younger viewers will probably find it indulgently lecture-y) when it screens again today (3/22) at the DGA Theatre, as the closing film of the 2015 NYICFF.

2015 Oscar Nominated Animated Shorts

There are ways that parents burden their children, such as decorating their home with hipster Scandinavian furniture. It does not quite work as a unifying theme, but generational debts and inheritances play an important role in at least some of this year’s Oscar Nominated Animated Short Films, which open collectively today in New York.

The first simply will not fit into our artificial framework no matter how hard we try to force it, but it is also the shortest and the slightest of the four nominees provided to the media (again, Disney decided to do their own thing with Patrick Osbourne’s Feast). Marieke Blaauw, Joris Oprins & Job Roggeveen’s A Single Life is sort of a riff on the concept of Adam Sandler’s Click, with a 45 rpm record taking the place of the remote control. It is amusing, but it is hardly a major work.

Daisy Jacobs’ The Bigger Picture certainly deals with serious issues, depicting the struggles of a faithful grown son to care for his ailing mother, even while she persists in favoring his irresponsible brother. Jacobs’ life-size, paper animated figures are undeniably distinctive, but if this were a live action film, we would probably consider the drama manipulative.

Torill Kove’s Me and My Moulton is also a bit sentimental, but in a sweetly nostalgic kind of way. The middle daughter of tragically trendy but well-meaning architect parents must deal with their rather unorthodox aesthetics, which seem strange to her more conventional friends. In fact, Mouton is a rather sly satire of hipster sensibilities as well as an endearing coming of age story. Kevin Dean’s soul jazz trio soundtrack also makes it swing and groove.

Yet, without question, the class of the field is Robert Kondo & Dice Tsutsumi’s The Dam Keeper (trailer here). When his father passed away, young Pig assumed his position as the dam keeper, maintaining the windmill that prevents as mass of toxic clouds from overrunning the village. Yet, he is still just a boy, who continues to attend school, where he is often mocked and bullied. One day, a young Fox transfers to his class and the rest of the animal students are quite taken with her (she is a fox, after all). However, she has an artist’s sensitivity, so she soon befriends Pig. Nevertheless, she presumably remains subject to the same peer pressures of other students. When it appears Fox betrays Pig’s trust for the sake of acceptance, the heartbroken dam keeper might just give up entirely, which would have ominous implications for the ungrateful village.

Dam Keeper is a beautiful fable, perfectly served by the stunning painted and hand-drawn animation, but it also resonates on a very personal level. In both visual and narrative terms, it is an extraordinary film. It is worth seeing the entire program just for it, especially since it is the longest of the nominated films. Frankly, if it does not win, the Academy will have some explaining to do.

This year’s nominated short film animated package is augmented with several other films of notable merit, including one selection of the 2015 Slamdance Film Festival. While it is not as graceful and sophisticated as Plympton’s previous Slamdance selection, the feature length Cheatin’, Footprints is a rather clever, postmodern channeling of Peter and the Wolf, rendered in a suitably surreal style.

Without question, The Dam Keeper is the main event here—and hopefully the Oscar favorite. Between it and the addition of the next strongest nominee, Me and My Mouton and the Slamdance alumnus, Footsteps, this year’s presentation of the Academy Award nominated short films is definitely worth seeing. Recommended for animation fans, it opens today (1/30) in New York, at the IFC Center.

Slamdance on the Road: Cheatin’

Those who write about film ignore the scrappy Slamdance Film Festival at their mortal peril. Sure, it takes place during another big film event that is fun to cover, but Slamdance has had its share of breakout hits as well. Filmmakers who launched their careers there include small cult figures like Christopher Nolan (Following) and Oren Peli (that’s right, Paranormal Activity). Bill Plympton was already an established name with a sizable following when he brought his latest hand-drawn animated feature to this year’s Slamdance, but he seemed to dig the laid back-just folks vibe. Given its freshness and subsequent success on the festival circuit (including Fantasia), Plympton’s Cheatin’ (trailer here) is a fitting alumnus film to help celebrate Slamdance’s twentieth anniversary with a special Slamdance On The Road screening in Salt Lake City.

Jake and Ella have animated bodies that put Jessica Rabbit to shame. When they first meet, the romantic sparks immediately start to fly. Before long, they are a passionate and committed couple. Unfortunately, the lust they inspire in others will lead to trouble. When Jake spurns the advances of a temptress-floozy, she returns with fraudulent evidence of Ella’s supposed infidelity. Devastated by the phony revelation, Jake embarks on a binge of cheap assignations, openly inviting Ella’s suspicions. However, she discovers a way to thwart his vengeful libido with the help of a seedy magician and his fantastical invention.

Although Cheatin’ ventures into genre territory during the third act, it is really grounded in universal themes, like love and sex and how they work with and against each other. Stylistically, it is Plympton’s most ambitious film yet, strikingly incorporating elements of watercolor. Almost completely free of dialogue, he tells the story entirely through visual means, like a far trippier version of The Artist.

The resulting vibe is quite distinctive. The early scenes have a Continental flavor, evoking Toulouse-Lautrec and Chekhovian heroines, while the middle section has the Americana feel of Hopper paintings, Our Town, and James Cain (Jake’s lonely looking filling station is a perfect example). Of course, Plympton’s still incorporates plenty of surreal flights of fancy, as his fans would hope, but the fundamental romanticism keeps it comparatively restrained.

Cheatin’ looks terrific—even elegant at times. Plympton’s frequent musical collaborator Nicole Renaud also really helps set the mood with her lush magpie score, freely repurposing bits and pieces borrowed from classic opera and tango. Fully Oscar qualified, it could be a dark horse contender. Recommended for adult animation fans, Cheatin’ screens this coming Wednesday (9/10) at the Tower Theatre in Salt Lake, as part of Slamdance On The Road.