I went to see the Triplets of Belleville a few weeks ago with the Cute Little Red-Haired Girlfriend and my friend Joe. Just before the Oscars each year, the girlfriend and I go on a film feeding frenzy trying to see as many nominated films as possible. We never quite hit all of them, but this year, because of the early telecast, we really fell short.

There were only three nominations in the animation category this year, and we managed to see just two of them: Finding Nemo and The Triplets of Belleville. I enjoyed them both and thought they made an interesting contrast in animation styles. While Nemo is a polished example of Disney storytelling, next to Triplets it seems formulaic and rather conventional. Although I am a huge fan of Disney animation, a movie like Triplets shows what has been lost through Disney's dominance in the field, at least in the U.S.

Where Nemo is heartwarming and clever, Triplets is, well, trippy. The story is told for the most part without dialogue, yet its narrative manages to be much more specific than Nemo. We know more about the internal lives of triplets characters, in part due to the film's evocative story-telling methods. For example, portions of the Triplets story are told through the dreams of a dog that belongs to the lead characters, which provides the viewer with a completely different, yet intimate perspective on the action.

Many viewers rightly praised Nemo for its beauty and technical achievement. The ocean provides a fantastic setting for dramatic colors and textures. I was a bit jaded going into Nemo, however, because I have for some time suspected that I may suffer from Animated Liquids Fatigue. This condition affects mainly animation fans who have seen one too many gratuitous scenes of animated water (e.g., Pocahontas), lava (e.g., Shrek) or other liquid, inserted into a film primarily to show off and say, "Hey! Look how realistic-looking this liquid is!" Wow. Just like water. How much did I pay for this ticket?

The ocean sequence in Triplets, on the other hand, lasts only long enough to make its story point: we are crossing water now. And it does so artfully, relying not on realism but on more suggestive, painterly effects. The animated transformations in Triplets are intended to make us marvel and to stretch the imagination, rather than to smoothly give the illusion of life. In this sense, I think the film embodies more of the spirit of animation, and is a better exemplar of the art form, than more technologically sophisticated endeavors.

I loved many of the characters in Nemo (a lesbian fish!), including the villainous, fish-eating sharks. The fish-eating Triplets, on the other hand, are not sentimentalized--they remain spooky and mysterious even in close quarters. None of the characters in Triplets are exactly lovable, though they are memorable. I expect the club-footed, bespectacled grandmother in Triplets will live long in my memory even though her character is not destined to become a stuffed toy in the Disney store.

As in the Wallace & Gromit series, there is a strange Rube Goldberg-like invention at the center of the story. At one point, the Triplets form a slapdash band, making music from household objects instead of instruments. Even the jazzy Triplets theme song, which was also nominated for an Oscar, is filled with verbal contortions. It is this unexpected action, of things turning into other things, that makes the film so magical.

While reading Geisha asobi blog, I discovered Retro Crush's piece on the 100 scariest movie scenes of all time. Animation fans may be interested to know that the Pink Elephants on Parade sequence in Dumbo is listed at #90. There are numerous screen shots from the film to illustrate the point. It's too bad the soundtrack can't be linked to, as that adds considerably to the moment's terror. One of the interesting things about this choice, as opposed to some of the others scary movie scenes listed, is that the Pink Elephants aren't simply repulsive, they also have a strange attraction. Or is it just me that feels that way?

Earlier this month, the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I went to the Disneyland Resort for the Official Unofficial Gay Day Weekend at Disneyland. We decided to stay at Disney's Grand Californian Hotel, a blend of Western architectural and decorative styles (rustic lodge, Arts and Crafts Bungalow, large doses of Mission) in oversized, Las Vegas-style proportions. Since we were vacationing less than 45 minutes away from our home, it seemed appropriate to stay in a hotel designed to be a simulacrum of the experience of living in our state.

Our first day was spent at California Adventure, the new Disney theme park that first gained notoriety among So Cal locals for how much it sucked. Some work was done to improve the park after that but the bad rep hasn't completely faded. It's definitely different from Disneyland--more edutainment than entertainment--but it has some great attractions like the Soarin' Over California ride, which was the closest thing to a virtual reality experience I've had anywhere.

I made a beeline for the Animation attraction, which I hoped would be different from but as good as the Magic of Disney Animation attraction at the Disney-MGM Studios in Florida. It actually comprised several attractions, including a presentation on Walt Disney's life and career as an animator, a synchronized live and animated presentation on the process of creating animated characters, an exhibit on character animation and a series of "interactives." The interactive area included hands-on examples of early animation technology and a karaoke kiosk that let you record your voice over an animated segment. I couldn't help but think of my fellow animation enthusiasts, like Steve Wintle (who has just left blogging) and Mark Hebert.

Disneyland was, as usual, nothing more nor less than the happiest place on earth. Sharing it with the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend, who had never been before, was a treat. She fell in love with many of the rides, including the Enchanted Tiki Room, which I'm pleased to say is looking a bit sharper than the last time I saw it, when it was facing the possibility of forced retirement. I was surprised to see that graphic artist Shag had several Tiki Room-related items for sale inside the park, which are also available through his web site.

The Haunted House had been thoroughly renovated the day before with a "Nightmare Before Christmas" theme. It was really well done, but I had to wonder if the Disney folk hadn't been reading Cory Doctorow's Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, which revolves around a similar Haunted House renovation. Art imitating fandom, once again?

Disneyland was crawling with queers, and nobody seemed to bat an eye at it. My favorite gay scene in the park was just outside the "Hungry Bear" restaurant, where we all gathered for an informal lunch. I stood in line behind five gay gays, all with roughly the same build as John Goodman, wearing mouse-eared hats embroidered with their names: "Mary," "Mary," "Mary," "Mary," and "Mary."

Last week, I heard a very engaging story on NPR about voiceover artist Daws Butler, the creator of vocal personalities for many cartoon characters, including Yogi Bear, Smedley, and Quick Draw McGraw, among others. The NPR audio piece showcased Daws' method for teaching voice acting, with snippets from recordings he had made over the years illustrating his technique. Daws, who was self-taught as a voice actor, developed a physical technique for creating voices, based on his belief that if he could look like a character, he could sound like that character, too. If you have the time to listen, it's worth it--especially if you have good memories of Hanna-Barbera cartoons.

From Blogjam comes this huge collection of Japanese Flash animations.

I am chilled by 8bit D & D, a flash animation that reveals what it's like to participate in fantasy role-playing games with disturbing accuracy.

I spent a good part of last night working my way through all the animation links in the latest post at Flat Earth. Really some great stuff over there. Over the last few weeks, I've been trying to catch up on all the animation entries for the upcoming Oscars. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed Ice Age, which had great characterizations, excellent sound, and a very funny, fresh approach. As much as I love Disney, it's great to see so many animation outfits giving them a run for the money.

I guess it's animation links day at In Sequence. While reading Ordinary Morning, I saw a link labeled "for art nerds" and clicked through to a great flash animation called Kunstbar, about a bar where all the drinks are named after artists. The Bosch drink looks like a doozy.

Via Portage, I happened across Odd Todd's Christmas Special animation. There's a false ending, so make sure you stay with it til the end.

Through a link on PsychicPants, I found my way to this lovely bit of Flash animation about the superhero Kikkoman, as in the brand of soy sauce. His superpower seems to involve squirting his special sauce on shrimp in need. There appear to be many resources for fans of the Kikkoman character at this site, including a picture gallery and possibly RPG games.
I notice there is a hero figure in the Flash animation with a tofu cube for a head. Is this a relative of Kikkoman? One of the many forms he takes? Or a sly reference to the tofudolls phenomenon?

The wonderful Odd Todd has a Halloween animation up. Comic fans should look out for Odd Todd's old school Aquaman costume (via Portage).

Slashdot's been good to me this week - this morning I found a link to the trailer for Spirited Away, the latest movie by animator Hayao Miyazaki, who also made Princess Mononoke. I was really excited to hear that Disney is distributing this film, because I had read earlier this year in The New York Times that the Japanese studio behind the film was not pursuing U.S. distribution. The film apparently draws heavily on Japanese folklore, which is clear from the trailer--watch it, it's awesome!

The Cute Little Red-Haired Girlfriend (CLRHG) and I saw Babe: Pig in the City on DVD this weekend. The film was darker than either of us expected, although I remember the original Babe being a bit on the macabre side, too, what with the whole "about-to-be-eaten-by-humans" theme. This same theme also loomed large in the animated pics The Little Mermaid and Chicken Run. I suppose it is cousin to the "about-to-be-made-into-coats" theme that energizes "101 Dalmations," and more distantly related to the "about-to-be-target practice" theme of Bambi. I sense a future book topic here.
Babe is famous for the technology that was developed to make the animals' mouths move in a realistic manner. I've always been somewhat in awe of the way animated films represent human speech through a limited palette of facial expressions. It seems even more incredible in stop-action animation, where numerous heads or mouths are fabricated and then interchanged during filming. Yesterday I ran across a low-tech, Flash version of mouth-moving animation that I found particularly enjoyable the other day: I recommend it to you.

Discovered this incredible Flash sequential art machine while stumbling around the many good things at Portage. An excellent time waster!

In the latest issue of Netsurfer Robotics I found news of an art exhibit inspired by the comics/cartoon character Doraemon, a robot cat. The art exhibit was a bit mystifiying, but I found a great Doraemon fan page, with a history of the character and incredibly cute wallpapers for downloading.