In the 1946 Disney animated feature, Make Mine Music, there was a rather delightful sequence called Johnny Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet. It was a terrific example of anthropomorphism - giving human traits and personality to that which is not human. Usually we think of anthropomorphism as it relates to cartoon animals who wear clothes, talk, and walk upright on their two hind legs. But there are plenty of samples of objects that are also brought to life with human traits, like the enchanted clock, candlestick and tea pot in Beauty and the Beast, or the brooms that overwhelm poor Mickey Mouse in The Sorcerer's Apprentice.
But getting back to the film I cited above, here are some stills from Johnny Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet that show what it is that I love about their design and treatment in the animation.
In the stills above, you can see how the two hats really lend themselves to being cast as human "types". Alice has a bow on the back, just as a girl might have a big bow tying up the back of her hair. The rest of the ribbon hangs down gracefully and can be utilized as girlish arms as demonstrated. Also, the lace around her brim suggests a frilly collar on a dress. Johnny is certainly a lot simpler in design, but the eyes exist where there would be the shadowed indentations on a fedora, and the opening of the hat acts as his mouth. The hatband even suggests a mustache, I suppose.
What I particularly enjoy though about Johnny's design is the use of a visual "cheat" - an element that goes deliberately against the rules of 3 dimensional structure (like Mickey's always round ears, for example). In Johnny's case the cheat is in the way his face actually encompasses two separate planes of the hat: the eyes are on the front, while the mouth is on the underside of the brim. Because a drawing is a 2 dimensional representation of 3D form, the artists can easily get away with this optical illusion of the two planes working as one when the hat is tilted up, as in the two stills above. Also, note how Johnny is able to exhibit emotion in the way the brim is pushed and pulled to achieve different mouth shapes, with the eyes reacting accordingly. This is the magic of traditional, hand drawn animation, and one of the reasons I will always vastly prefer it to CG animation, which so often is trying to mimic the literalness of live-action film. Additionally, so long as Hollywood continues to pursue creating these CG films in 3D, such visual"cheats" cannot possibly work as effectively.
This brings me to a subject that is bound to rub some people the wrong way, but I believe the criticism is warranted. Because of the trend in current animated features to try to emulate live-action cinematography, I feel that we're losing the very definition of what it means to be an animated film. My own interest in animation as a young kid was that it was the illusion of a drawing seemingly springing to life upon the screen. That was truly magical to me, and was certainly one of the factors contributing to my love of drawing and hopes to one day becoming a cartoonist. For me, it was always "The Animated Cartoon" - take "Cartoon" out of the equation and I really wasn't that interested. Sure, I liked some stop-motion animation back then, but it was always drawn cartoon animation that intrigued me.
So hopefully you can understand why I might not be particularly impressed with the latest short that Pixar is working on called The Blue Umbrella, which seems like a watered down (so to speak) variation on the classic Disney segment cited above. I came across this teaser clip on Cartoon Brew today and I must say it just leaves me cold. For a start, though it's technically CG animation, it might as well be live-action footage from the way it looks. The animated faces appear merely pasted on, rather than being physically integrated into the umbrellas themselves, and these objects only twist and turn a bit, not exhibiting any of the whimsical "Squash and Stretch" we associate with classic drawn animated performance. In short, this film clip holds about as much charm for me as a typical TV commercial for Kool-Aid, which it sadly puts me in mind of. For the record, I remain equally unimpressed with Pixar's two Cars features, as they also come across as live-action films with some animated elements pasted on top, again exhibiting no exaggeration of form and movement of the various car characters, thus not taking proper advantage of the animation medium.
By the way, I've heard that this short film may be the work of the satellite studio that Pixar set up in Vancouver. If so, it is likely that some of the folks involved in the animation may be former students of mine at Sheridan. Please understand that my criticism is not targeted toward those involved in bringing the film to fruition. My issue with the film is in the concept and art direction that was decided upon by the powers-that-be. Animation that tries this hard to look like its live-action film cousin just isn't really "animation" in the true sense of the word, not in my book anyway. Sorry, but this stuff needs to be said.
John Kricfalusi has just posted an interesting piece on the use of dog-nosed faces on otherwise very human cartoon characters. This is a phenomenon mostly found in Disney's "Uncle Scrooge" and Donald Duck" comics illustrated by Carl Barks, although it's been seen in animation as well, like Nelvana's "Rock and Rule", for example. I agree with John that this type of character is rather off-putting, as it is neither distinctly human nor typical of the "Funny Animal" type of cartoons so prevalent in animation and comics. Though the Carl Barks dog-nosed characters are rather benign, this trend also begat the "Furry" movement, which usually also seems to have a sexual bent to it in the art of its many practitioners.
At this very point in time, I am coincidentally covering the topic of "Anthropomorphism" in my Character Design course at Sheridan College, so I'd like to take this opportunity to address the distinction between "Funny Animals" and "Furries". Some time ago, I'd posted this piece on "Four Degrees of Anthropomorphism" that covers most of the main approaches to creating animals with human traits and personalities in various animated shorts and features. By breaking it down into these four common approaches, I hope to teach my students how to create a set of rules to apply to the way they handle animal characters in their film stories, so that there's a certain logic and plausibility that is maintained in what they're trying to communicate to their audience. And from a purely visual standpoint, I'm also trying to impress upon them where to draw the line between an anthropomorphic animal that possesses human traits, before crossing that line and instead ending up with a "Furry", being essentially an animal's head stuck on top of a fur covered human body.
Ideally, an anthropomorphic animal should maintain something of the actual animal's physique, even when walking around on two legs and wearing clothes. If you look at this still from Disney's "Robin Hood", you will note that Robin himself is still very much a fox on two legs, and that if placed back down on all fours without his costume, he would be very much at home in a film like "Lady and the Tramp" as a caricature of a real fox but with a human personality. Same thing with Little John the bear. When done really well, an anthropomorphic animal character should be initially visualized as a "Human Type", then translating those human physical traits and reinterpreting them in the animal design. I discussed this topic here.
For those of you familiar with "The Country Bear Jamboree" at Walt Disney World, the Disney artists were very successful in creating a cast of bear characters that looked like caricatures of the type of performers one would see on the stage at Nashville's "Grand Ol' Opry". Here is a picture of "Big Al", as an example of what I'm talking about. The facial design and physical body type are very much based on the character's human equivalent, yet never losing sight of the physical design of the actual animal either. For many students, this seems to be rather confusing and a challenge to pull off, while for others it seems to be a very natural, intuitive process.
For the uninitiated, just so you have a clear idea of the distinction between what I'm describing here and the aforementioned, dreaded "Furries", here is a link to some Google images of the latter. As you can see, they are more mutant than animal. As a general rule of thumb: If it is embarrassing to look at your animal character when he or she is naked, chances are you've drawn a "Furry"!!
Just to solidify the distinction, here is a clip from Disney's "Bedknobs and Broomsticks" that shows how to successfully translate animals into two-legged anthropomorphic characters while still maintaining the animal's physique. I really love this clip, as all of the gags are based on the traits of the actual animals, yet every one of them also conjures up a "Human Type" equivalent as well. Wouldn't you agree that the big ugly rhino puts one in mind of some thuggish, skinhead footballer? Of course, the sleek and agile cheetah is more of the David Beckham type.
Mark Mayerson has been posting scene breakdowns from Disney's "101 Dalmatians" over on his blog, and adding his analysis of story and characterization in addition to detailing who animated what. He's just gotten up to my favourite sequence: The "Twilight Bark", which leads us to the characters of The Captain, Sgt. Tibbs, and The Colonel. My reasons for liking this particular sequence so much is that it's a prime example of what I appreciate so much about Disney in their ability to create rich personalities even when working within a relatively short amount of screen time. In this sequence, we are introduced to The Captain (a horse), Sergeant Tibbs (a cat), and The Colonel (a sheep dog).
Even before we first see the horse poke his head through the stable window, we've already been given a clue as to who lives in this old country house from the address sign above the gate that reads: "H.M. Forces Ret. Maj. General S.F. Smedley, The 9th Queens Royal Lancers". Previously in this film, we've seen how the Disney artists have created a distinct similarity between the various dogs and their humans, especially in the opening sequence that shows the female potential mates that Pongo is sizing up, out for a walk with their look-alike human "pets". Therefore, it should come as no surprise that the animals that live in this country home would share some of the background of their master, a former military man now retired to a quiet life of farming.
Here are the mosaics that Mark has put together with scene credits courtesy of Hans Perk:
When I cover the topic of anthropomorphic cartoon animals in my Character Design class, I try to show through examples like these, how Disney has always created animals as specific human types, as opposed to simply creating cartoon renditions of animals. The horse, cat and sheepdog depicted in this sequence are prime examples of the Disney artists' craft. When we watch this sequence play out, we are viewing them not merely as animals, but as familiar human types that we have seen in many a British wartime drama. In my drawn interpretation posted below, I have sketched out the human characters that these animals seem to suggest to me personally.
The Captain is a big workhorse, though from the blanket he wears sporting a royal emblem, and other props like a sword, bugle and banner shown in the background of the stable, one can imagine that in his younger days he was a sleek, athletic soldier's steed on the field of battle. But now he has matured into a solid workhorse, built for towing a heavy farm plow. In human terms I envision him as a solid, dependable man, perhaps in his late 40s/early 50s, with broad features like what I have drawn below.
Sergeant Tibbs is a small, slim cat, definitely designed for speed and being able to slip through tight spaces, as he will have to do later when he's trying to find the missing puppies in the De Vil place. As such, he suggests a younger man, perhaps about 20-25, who is a recent recruit that is eager to do a good job and please his superiors. I love the way he zips around; all quick staccato movements, always alert and at attention. In the pleasant, wide-eyed young fellow I have envisioned as his human counterpart, I can't help but think of him as a combination of a young Dudley Moore and Radar O'Reilly from M*A*S*H.
Again, I am amazed by how the Disney writers and artists have created such rich character types in such a relatively short amount of screen time. Through their dialogue and actions we learn much about the relationship between these three characters. Though The Colonel is now a somewhat less competent old codger, hard of hearing and with other faltering capacities, neither The Captain nor Sgt. Tibbs have the heart to let on. Their respect for the old man is so great that they are careful to gently correct his mistakes so as not to let him lose face, allowing him to continue acting under the delusion that he is still in the prime of life and completely in charge of the situation at hand. I've always thought this to be a very sweet sequence in the film because of that subtext, cleverly communicated through the acting.
In conclusion, I would hope that all students of animation try to analyze films like "101 Dalmatians" and other classics, both animated and live-action from that era, in the hopes of learning the craft of creating rich characters on screen. Remember, the dialogue is only a small part of the equation. Characterization through strong visual designs, distinct personalities, and accompanying body language and physical quirks is what will result in performances that will entertain and engage your audience.
There's an interesting article on Michael Barrier's site that I think is worth checking out. His August 5th entry is a reprinting of a commentary by Ed Hooks regarding the approach taken to "Inter-species Communication" in Pixar's "Ratatouille". Here's Ed's first two paragraphs just to provide some context to what I'm about to discuss:
"One of the early and most important decisions Brad Bird had to make when he started working on the script for "Ratatouille" was what to do about inter-species communication. The star of the movie is a rat after all, and much of the supporting cast is human. If you have the rat speak out-loud English with any of the human characters, you will overly challenge the audience member's willingness to suspend his disbelief.
Inter-species communication is a fascinating challenge for animation. You can anthropomorphize inanimate things and animals all you want, but you have to be very careful about how you have them interact with one another, and especially with humans. In "Lion King", all of the animals had human traits and personalities, but they related only to one another. In "Finding Nemo", the fish never directly communicate with that human dentist. In "Lady and the Tramp", the animals talk to one another, but not to the humans. In "Cars", John Lasseter solved the problem by not having human drivers for the cars."
This is actually a topic that I've given a lot of thought to over the years, as I believe it's something that should be considered by anybody attempting to write stories /screenplays featuring animal characters. Back in 1997, the first year I taught Character Design at Sheridan College, I decided to put these observations down on paper in order to give the students something to keep in mind as they were developing animal characters that could be used in their films. Based upon all of the animated features, shorts and TV shows I'd absorbed over a lifetime of watching cartoons, I felt that one could distill the number of approaches into four main categories. This is not to imply that there are only these possibilities, by the way, as I've seen examples that are subsets of these categories, or may be oddball exceptions to all of my arbitrary rules!
For instance, there may even be more than one of these categories represented within a single film. An example of this would be in Disney's "Pinocchio". Figaro the kitten is representative of the first category, as he shows some humanlike emotion while remaining very much an animal as Geppetto's pet. But then you also have Honest John the fox and Gideon who, although also a cat, is totally unlike Figaro. These two rascals are very much representative of the fourth category, in that they walk upright, talk, wear clothes, and exhibit totally humanlike behavior. In addition, they would both be human size relative to Geppetto and the other human characters. As such, these two characters are visual metaphors for human "types", the fox in particular meant to be a caricature of one who is sly and untrustworthy. Because "Pinocchio" is such an abstract, allegorical story to begin with, mixing more than one category doesn't seem to be a problem. In films that are more mainstream in their stories, I think more care needs to be taken in order to keep things clear to the viewer. So please, just take this theorizing on my part for whatever it's worth. It's really just meant to give an idea of what may be considered as characters are developed in regard to, in the words of Ed Hooks, "Inter-species Communication". Much thanks to Michael Barrier for making me aware of Ed's article.
Here's a little character I've been playing with for awhile. I've had an idea for a story that's been kicking around in my noggin involving a squirrel and some birds. I'm hoping to develop it into a children's book. Anyway, this is the rough prototype for the rascal. (Actually, I think in several expressions he sort of looks like me!)
I'm posting these sketches as an example of what I am always suggesting to my Sheridan Animation students. That is, before finalizing a character design you should take it out for a "test drive" to see how it's working. A common mistake I've found is that a student will draw one or two views of a character and be instantly sold on it. I maintain that you should never nail down a character design until you've sketched it many times over, trying it out in various animated poses. Many's the time that I've found that a design that looked good to me initially proved to be awkward to move around into different poses. When that happens, always be prepared to make whatever modifications that may be necessary to make it work better.
In these 2 sets of sketches, I've just allowed my stream of consciousness to take over, doodling my squirrel in whatever pose and attitude that happens to flow out of my pencil naturally. None of these sketches are finished in any way and they may not even show him in altogether consistent proportions. In fact, sometimes I find that more ideal proportions may develop quite naturally through the repetition of drawing him out in different poses. Likewise, the facial features may evolve into a more appealing design through trying various moods and expressions, as well as tilts and angles of the head. Even my approach to construction is looser at this stage. To dwell too much on structure right away would be a hindrance to developing him as a little personality.
For me, this is what is most fun about drawing. I love to just do little rough sketches like these to get a performance on paper. Admittedly, I am much happier having made a career being a cartoonist in the print medium. The only way I would want to be involved in animation is if I could draw in this "organic", fully dimensional way that pleases me. I'm not much of a fan of today's flat, graphic styles, I'm afraid.
I've worked as a cartoonist in the print medium for over 30 years, including 10 years as a Character Artist with the Disney Company. For 11 years I taught Character Design in the Animation program at Sheridan College. Currently, I freelance for various clients with my cartoon and caricature illustration.
Though my feet may be physically planted in this 21st century, my mind prefers to take up residence in the 1960's - a time when everything in commercial art and popular entertainment still made sense to me. It was Sinatra's world and I'm still livin' in it. Welcome to The Cartoon Cave...