Animation and Me: A Reflection

First of all, I apologize to any actual followers of this blog: this entry is not a movie review. It is an assignment for English class. But I thought, Why not include it here? You don’t have to read this, though I hope you will.

I’ve thought a lot recently about my enthusiasm for animation. I’ve touched on this before (read my profile), but even so it’s hard to pinpoint why I love animation so much. Perhaps it’s the ability to make anything believable. Since nothing is filmed, the movie isn’t meant to look ultra-realistic, so you can include the unusual without fear. Maybe that’s why so many animated films center on human-like animals or have fantasy themes. Is that why they’re so appealing to me, because they have talking animals and magic users? Or, perhaps it’s the style. Animation, whether traditional or 3-D, generally looks simpler than real life, more stylized.

In any case, my fascination began when I was quite young. Not surprising, you say? I agree. Kids are notorious for drinking in any and all cartoons, regardless of quality. How else do you think those awful Disney direct-to-video sequels managed to net any sales? Because they are movies that parents buy to give their kids something unproductive to do and keep them busy.

But the older I got, the more I was able to discern between the mindless entertainment and the works worthy to be called good movies alongside live-action films. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I remember walking through Rite Aid one day several years ago and passing by a display stand for Lady and the Tramp II: Scamp’s Adventure. Rather than wanting to snatch up a copy, I thought, “Eh, it probably isn’t that great.” I ended up watching the movie at one point (I don’t remember why) and noticing that its quality level was indeed below that of its prequel. A few years later I was consciously aware of the Disney “cheapquel” phenomenon; I think it was having to sit through Pocahontas II: Journey to the New World that eventually made me painfully aware of Disney’s imperfection. I have since learned to only expect the worst from that family of movies. (Though I did at one point watch The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea out of pure curiosity, and was rewarded with a wasted afternoon and a crummy mood.)

But how much has animation influenced my everyday life? Good question. I’ve liked art and animals from early age, and in middle school began to do my first “art.” It was mostly of dragons, unicorns, horses, and cats. Granted, it wasn’t all that great. Fair, but with lots of room for improvement. But then, in tenth grade, I rediscovered The Lion King. Before I knew it, I was doodling lions. At first they didn’t look very good, but the more time went on, the more I could successfully emulate lions drawn in Disney’s style, and the more I could successfully depart from Disney’s style and keep the art looking good. As my confidence grew, I returned to dragons and cats and introduced canines to my repertoire as well, but giving them all a Disney-like twist as well as my own tastes. Now I can tackle almost any animal with an appealing, animation-reminiscent style.

Also, after the “rediscovery,” I regained interest in animated movies in general. I returned to watching the videos that my family owns. After a while, once my art had improved as described earlier, I fancied trying to animate things myself. It was perfect: I could make my cool drawings move, just like the good movies! I have made a few attempts at animation over the months, and I intend on developing my skills in the area much further in the future.

I started this blog as an assignment for my twelfth grade English class. The only instruction was that the entries be “responses to something.” I sat down and thought for a while what I wanted the theme of my blog to be; I didn’t want to just write about random things I saw, but about a cohesive set of material. So what’s something that I like a ton that others might be interested in? Animated movies, of course. Music is too wide of an area to effectively explore so casually, and math is appealing only to a small portion of the population. And come on, what could I effectively write in a blog about Spanish that people would read?

There you have it; I enjoy animated movies, as explained before, and many other people do too. But animation in itself isn’t something I can do very well yet. I’ll try to work on it in the future, but right now I am content with my skills in still art. I definitely want to take art classes in college and explore all of my artistic potential.

College? To those of you who know me, art doesn’t seem like what I would specialize in. Sure, I’ll take music lessons and join ensembles. Sure, I’ll try to get better at Spanish and maybe learn another language. But if I were to lose all my skills but one—suddenly not know how to do anything right but one thing—that thing would not be the saxophone, nor my mathematical prowess, nor my knack for languages. I would choose to keep my immersion in animation-styled art. (Well, okay, I wouldn’t want to give up my singing voice either.) It’s a surprising conclusion for myself to come to, but if I look at my history and at my life today, I realize just how much I rely on doodles of animals to get me through the day.

In the end, I guess it’s not so much that animation itself will be an important part of my life, though I love it. What will remain an integral part of my life is the stylistic impact that animated movies have had and will continue to have on my art.

Thank you.

The Jungle...Again

Hey, look. We're back in Africa.

Tarzan
Original release: June 18, 1999 (UK)

Edgar Rice Burroughs' book Tarzan of the Apes, published in 1914, has inspired an astounding number of films. Wait, let me count... forty-nine films. That's an awful lot. It will generally be agreed upon, however, that this particular rendition is one of the finest.

If you've been following the blog or are in my English class, you may notice: this film was the last film of the Disney Renaissance. Is that ringing a bell? In the early 2000s, Disney's films went into a slump. Luckily, this one is free from any such worries about quality. Through a combination of smooth animation, impressive CGI work, catchy music, and an emotional story, this movie will keep you hooked from beginning to end.

The story opens with a shipwrecked couple and their baby, who start building a new home in the jungle where they get stranded. At the same time, two gorillas play with their infant son. Immediately I was impressed with how well these two parallel scenarios were interlaced. The music didn't hurt, either.

While we're on that, I'm going to have to talk about the music. I have to say that the music really helps make this film what it is. This is Phil Collins! He is a high-quality songwriter, regarding both the lyrics and the music, which always seem to go together quite well with each other as well as with the movie. The most famous tune from Tarzan is probably "You'll Be in My Heart," which makes sense; it did win the Oscar for Best Original Song that year. But the other songs are just as interesting. In the case of "Trashin' the Camp," I was seriously tempted to get up and start dancing around the room. But my favorite song in this movie is "Strangers Like Me." In the movie, this segment covers a lot of important plot progression: this scene focuses on Tarzan's time and studies with the human trio and its results, namely questions about the gorillas and a budding romance between Tarzan and Jane. Oh, there I go again, being a romantic.



Quick! What's that device shown at 0:59? You should know this if you were taking notes on Monday!

Watching this again after some time, I was surprised how emotional it was. Tarzan is a much more conflicted character than you might think. As a kid, there's the scene where he looks at his reflection in the river and tries to cover his bare human skin with brown mud. All through his adolescence (the "Son of Man" segment) he is something of an overachiever, but only because he is trying to prove himself to his family, particularly the leader Kerchak. When Tarzan presents the leopard's body to Kerchak, you can see how desperately he wants Kerchak to accept him. And the part where he tackles Kerchak to the ground to let his human friends escape, and the guilt trip scene with Clayton in the boat, and... Okay, okay. I need to calm down.

But what was most moving of all was the scene in which Tarzan's gorilla mother, Kala, finally reveals his past to him. That scene made me cry. I'm serious, there were tears coming out of my eyes. It was rather embarrassing, too. I don't think I've ever cried before when watching this! But seriously, the scene is extremely touching. (I couldn't find a smaller clip, so you'll have to skip to about 3:30 and watch until 6:30.)



Another high point of the film was the amazing background work. Why is it that Tarzan remains the highest budget Disney film in history? Because of something called Deep Canvas, a program designed to use 3-D computer generated imagery that had a loose, artistic, oil-painted look that ends up looking extremely impressive.

Low points? The villain Clayton, while he does serve his function as villain well, is strikingly similar to Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, albeit slightly uglier and with a heavy British accent. The sailors weren't all that impressive, either. Sabor, the leopard, was more of a dangerous force of nature than a villain. That's not to say his scenes weren't dramatic and action-packed, because they were. He just seemed a smidgen unrealistic. (Mahewa notes that a real leopard would have given up the fight after ten seconds and gone on to find an easier meal.)

So we have nice music, a strong story, high-quality animation, and well-done action. Actually, I was impressed by how well they were able to switch between comedic moments and serious moments, and vice versa. This film definitely deserves its recognition.

Mahewa's rating: 4.0/5




Interested in Entertainment Weekly's review of this flick? Read here for one writer's expressed awe at the visuals and emotions.

P.S. That device was a praxinoscope.