The Debate Between Animation and Reality

I just wanted to elaborate on a point that I touched upon briefly in yesterday's post, and that is animation and CG's interesting relationship with reality.

3D and animation exist to play with reality. It's goal is to create a living, moving world in it's entirety. It has the visual stimulus words lack no matter how striking the prose and vivid the imagery, the movement you can't find in paintings or comics, a disregard for physics that can't be found in live action film. This is why filmmakers turn to animation. Anything is possible, from the stop motion used to make King Kong to the CG Na'vi on CG Pandora. Hell, if you think about it, Transformers and 300 are just as much cartoons as Who Framed Roger Rabbit. You'd be hard pressed to find a Hollywood film these days that didn't at least use a green screen.

However, even though animation tells physics to buzz off on a regular basis, it needs a grounding in reality in order to work. You can have giant robots that change into cars to your heart's content, but they need to have weight. They need to have realistic movement. If you drew a person, the most realistic person possible, but the movement was jerky and the expressions were stiff, the audience would not relate. On the other hand, if you took a sack of potatoes and made it move very realistic, you had the top corners hang down, bag hunched, shuffling it's bottom corners, stopping to sigh, the audience will feel it's expression of dejection and associate more with that than the human. I mean, It was impossible not to feel bad when Wall-E was falling apart and breaking down near the end of the film. He wasn't human, he was a box with eyes, but the movement of his hands and eyebrows, the tilt of his head, were so realistic that they felt human.

Successful animation is a bit of a paradox. You can do the most unrealistic things possible, but you have to do them realistically. You have to both ignore it, and never forget it. It is a cruel, cruel mistress, it is.

Those aren't the only levels to this debate either. If you want to make realistic CG, you have to go a couple of steps further. In film school they teach you that the best sound design is one that you don't notice. One out-of-place sound immediately draws the audience's attention towards it. I would argue that the same goes for CG as well. How many times have you seen a movie and said "Oh. That's CG." It's so ubiquitous that it's often not as impressive as it should be. In my mind, the movie with the best use of CG to this day is Jurassic Park, a film made in 1993. That is because it very intelligently combined CG with animatronics to cover up the weaknesses of the other. The results were nearly flawless.

Too many films nowadays don't try and hide it. They get up and go "Hey everybody! Look at my CG!". A person can't swing from building to building on webs, so they used a CG Spider-Man, but that was only a stand-in for the original. The second he landed, it was Tobey Maguire in a costume. Not the best CG, but they tried to hide it.

This is where I both applaud and condone Avatar. James Cameron was telling us to look at the CG. To actively judge if it was the best CG ever made or not. That's the same thing as a magician, before sawing a woman in half, telling the audience there is a second woman in the box. However, when it came to mundane details, he passed with flying colors. As silly as the Na'vi looked, he choose a design for them that could have easily been prosthetics and make-up. He decided to animate blades of grass instead of using actual grass. He got animators to makes little nicks and cuts in the beads on the Na'vi headdresses instead of using actual headdresses. He could have easily used real things, but he chose not to. It's not practical, and quite a bit pretentious, but if you're trying to prove you have the best CG, then it's a brilliant way to go. No matter how advanced your technology is, things like the giant hammerhead-rhino creature or six-legged horses will never look real, because your brain knows no such thing exists. However, if your characters could have easily been guys in make-up, and for a second they actually look like guys in make-up, you've won.

That's why I will be forever convinced that that one shot of Sigourney was really her and they were f**king with us.

Well, I finally, actually saw Avatar, kind of.

I have been a notorious Avatar nay-sayer, I hate to admit it. At first I just didn't have an interest in it. I saw the trailers, read many of the articles, but nothing I saw made it seem like a movie I wanted to see. For any other film that would be fine, not all films are for everyone after all, but all of a sudden a simple non-interest in Avatar became an affront. It got to a point where you couldn't just say "No, thank you". Everyone needed to know why. A simple "it's not my thing" was not enough. "But you love science fiction!", "It's James Cameron!", "You're an animator. How could you not want to see an animated movie?". Over time it became harder and harder to simply avoid the subject. The easiest solution was to just hate it. Now that Avatar has beaten The Dark Knight's domestic gross, put it's Papyrus font logo everywhere you turn, and created it's own form of depression that people are killing themselves because of, I absolutely can no longer avoid it. I went to see Avatar, and with an open mind.

There is a caveat, however. What I mean when I say I "saw" Avatar is that I went to see it in 3D and walked out an hour and a half into the film to vomit into the middle of Queens Blvd because I am prone to motion sickness. So in all fairness, I will try and speak only about what I saw. Let's just say, I actually feel guilt that I didn't finish the movie, and will see it again (in 2D this time). Now, that means something.

The main reason I didn't want to see Avatar was all the hype, mostly from James Cameron himself. He clearly was excited about his work, and I would be too, but he went a little far. He promised the best CG we've ever seen, for it to be so realistic we couldn't tell it apart from reality. Then the trailers and footage hit, and it was good, but nowhere near as fantastic as he said. He said that the plot and character development would be unlike anything we've seen, yet it was your regular run-of-the-mill sci-fi plot. It was District 9 with a coat of paint that looked remarkably like Fern Gully. We saw pictures of fantastic creatures and landscapes, then the movie's title is written in Papyrus, a default font in Word (at least Firefly and Serenity changed the "I" when they used that font). Plus "Unobtainium"? "Pandora"? "Na'vi"? Jesus, who let this guy pick words? It was just hyped so much, to levels that were impossible to attain, that all that was left was disappointment.

It also didn't help that Avatar beat out The Hurt Locker for a Golden Globe. That movie had the body bomb scene. A scene so visceral, so brutal and heart-wrenching, that I have recurring nightmares of it.

So this is the bad attitude I was up against.

Then I actually saw (half) the movie, and I was swept up in it. Nitpicking about the Papyrus subtitles and made up words just seems petty. The human tech was so cool looking, with it's holographic interfaces, neon blue avatar-growing tubes, and mech controlling metal gauntlets. Then Pandora itself was gorgeous, despite the artists just taking anemone and jellyfish from the bottom of the ocean and putting it into a jungle. The hammerhead-rhino was a truly a standout design. There was even a moment, when Grace's avatar stops playing basketball and smiles at Jake, when I swore they just pasted Sigourney Weaver's real face onto the avatar just to f**k with us. I sat there, completely taken over by the spectacle. I was bright eyed, gazing at what I thought was the most beautiful, amazing thing I had seen in a while. I didn't even care that "eat your eyes for Jujubees" makes no goddamned sense ("like Jujubees" or "as Jujubees". It's a proper noun). Every single gripe, nitpick, complaint that I had about the movie was gone. I was absolutely loving it.

And then Neytiri said "You have a good heart." My face hit my palm so hard I got whiplash. A line so ham-fisted I smelt bacon. The context: Jake kills a bunch of monster dogs, Neytiri kills more, even stabbing one in the throat to put it out of it's misery, then she chastises Jake for defending himself. He rightfully asks "Why did you save me?" She responds with "You have a good heart." Ugh.
The characterization of the Na'vi tribe then went down from there. Sure, I only saw half the film. Maybe as the film progressed they got better, but everything I saw, from their dialogue to their shaman woman made me embarrassed. The exact same type of embarrassment I felt watching Mudflap and Skids in Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. They felt like every bad Native American stereotype rolled into one.

This isn't going to stop me from seeing it in it's entirety. So let's end this post the same way they end every episode of Heroes.

To be continued...

Apologies for the tardiness. I couldn't find my spats.

Pardon my scarcity of late, but all my productivity has been funneled into applying for grad schools... and this...

Curse you Mass Effect. Curse you.

I did want to take a moment to sing the praises of something that deserves it, and that is Blackest Night Starman #81 by James Robinson, Fernando Dagnino, and Bill Sienkiewicz. This is the perfect example of how a massive crossover tie-in book should be made, and it joins Booster Gold #26 as one of the best books in an already excellent event.

I am quick to point out that Blackest Night has been something that needs to be read. Before it debuted, it looked like just another book that would cash in on the idea that two things that are independently awesome will be doubly so when combined. It first appeared to be DC's reaction to the ridiculous (undead heroes battling Evil Dead's Ash) and absurd (killing Galactus, because their hunger for flesh knows no bounds) Marvel Zombies, but while Marvel Zombies was about fun zombie camp, DC delivered with something I found more somber and thoughtful.

Yes there were moments designed to be for shock and awe, like the killing of Hawkman and Hawkgirl or Aquaman summoning zombie sharks, but for the most part it was an interesting refection on what creates a hero, that shines particularly bright on the lesser known of the DC canon.

Death and superheroes go hand in hand. We all know this. Death is one of, if not the, strongest force pushing a character into superheroism/villainy. The first thing Peter Parker did when he discovered his powers was seek profit as a pro wrestler, that is, until Uncle Ben's iconic last words. Bruce Wayne's parents, the planet Krypton, the list goes on. Even if a death wasn't the original catalyst, nearly every hero has someone they cared about stuffed into a fridge, or they sacrificed themselves to reignite the sun.

DC has a tendency to kill off a whole lot of characters, but for a multitude of reasons they often don't have the cojones to keep them dead. At some point they will return from the Speed Force or Superboy Prime will punch reality. I wasn't even positive that they actually killed off Bruce Wayne until I saw Batman as a Black Lantern. Therein lies the rub. Death and reincarnation have become such ingrained tropes of the medium. It no longer carries as much weight as it should. I love Joss Whedon to death, but look what happens whenever a character of his is in a happy romance. They get shot by accident, shot on purpose, cheat with a werewolf, kill Jenny Calendar. We expect it. The second they kiss we start counting down to their inevitable demise. When a comic book hero dies we just sit back and wait for him to come back.

So why did it work when Blackest Night basically said "F**k it" and brought every dead character ever back to life? Because it was an effective device to achieve what crossovers are for. Introduce new readers to the universe.

Comics are a bit alienating in that regard. There are so many characters and so much history, most of which is self referential, that it's tough to find a good point to just jump in. In 1993 I bought Superman #82 simply because it had a robot Superman on the cover. To my six year old mind that was the coolest thing ever (my 22 year old mind still agrees). However, nearly every page had a little box that said "see Superman #[whatever]" or "Don't read this until you've read Green Lantern #[so-and-so]". Wikipedia did not exist, so this was discouraging to say the least. I didn't buy another comic for 15 years. I loved comics and read a ton of trade paperbacks, graphic novels, and anthologies, but never a comic book. I was too scared I'd start in the middle of an arc and not know what was going on. Hell, before I started reading Spider-Man, I bought three volumes of The Essential Spider-Man books and read hundreds upon hundreds of pages so I'd be up to date on the backstory. It didn't help. Maybe that's why I don't read Marvel at all.

Through trades and cartoons I became well versed in the DCU, but Blackest Night is where I actually started making trips to the comic book store every Wednesday. It was easy. I started with #1, and just bought everything with the BN logo. Tons of other people are doing the same, so all the books at least try to explain things the best they can.

Then there are the Black Lanterns themselves. They feed on emotions, by eating hearts, because (this is where you place tongue firmly in cheek) that is where emotions come from (though I like to think they actually gain power from eating the endorphins that fear or rage sends through the blood, thus the heart, but I digress). That makes pretty much every Black Lantern jump out and go "Hey! I'm that guy that died that made you who you are! And here are a list of the flaws and foibles that make you an interesting, developed character! Now give me your heart om nom nom." They are walking Wikipedia entires, and in the hand of Geoff Johns, I don't care. It is amazing.

The aforementioned Booster Gold #26 was the pinnacle of this. Now, I had no idea who Booster Gold was and all I knew about the Blue Beetle was that he was sort-of Watchmen's Nite-Owl, but through a few pages of backstory and Booster's inner monologue, the fact that he couldn't say a word during Ted Kord's eulogy was one of the most gut-wrenching things I've read in mainstream comics. I then bought several Booster trades, an action figure, and will probably continue to buy Booster Gold (despite some really heavy handed dialogue in #28. Second picture from the bottom). Now that is a tie-in done right.

Currently Blackest Night has taken a few missteps. Mainly it has lost sight of it's own badass-ery. It killed Hawkman and Hawkgirl in the first few pages. Batman and Commissioner Gordon fought zombies with flame throwers. That is f**king awesome. Now they have Kyle Rayner sacrifice himself, and angry over his death Guy Gardner becomes a hybrid red/green lantern, which is spectacularly cool, but they ruined it by having a Star Sapphire come out of nowhere and bring Kyle back with the power of love and Pokémon tears. Let's not forget making the Scarecrow a yellow lantern, the physical embodiment of fear, then not having him do anything, the degrading treatment of Wonder Woman (read about that here), the leak of the post-Blackest Night story, Brightest Day, which showed what appears to be a white ring, which better not be be the deus ex machina solution to Black Hand and Nekron, plus a few weeks of weak tie-ins.

However, in the middle of all this comes the purpose of this rant, Starman #81. First the art is spectacular. The cover has the intriguing idea of using Shade's darkness as the light source, which is both visually pleasing (shadows apparently give off a bold, magenta light). I'm a sucker for visual metaphors. Plus there is a shadow from Shade's glasses on the underside of his hat's brim. It's the little things.

Inside the book, all the art looks like it was drawn using one continuous, never ending line, which I've never seen in a comic book before. Shading is scribbles, with plenty of space between the strokes, which in a comic about a guy named Shade who controls darkness, is interesting to say the least. The sky and Shade's shadows are purple, and I love purple shadows and pink to purple gradients in general.

What is really intriguing is the use of negative space. In Hope O'Dare's apartment there is no furniture. There is the outline of a dresser and a night table, but the pillows and blankets are draped over emptiness. This a both apropos to the character, Shade being a manipulator of darkness (darkness = absence) and the theme. The Black Lantern, the titular Starman, shows up and reeks havoc, but for the first time, the Black Lantern is not the focus of the story. The story is about Shade, a former villain, trying in vain to be viewed as a hero, who has fallen in love with a cop named Hope O'Dare. Hope is reluctant to love him back because she's afraid of his immortality. So there being an absence, an empty void, simply the idea of a bed in her apartment during their post-coital soul-searching is quite the loaded. There are worse ways to spend $2.99

This is what makes Starman #81 so cool. The framing, the coloring, the lines, the shading, the art and story intertwine in a way you rarely ever see in Marvel and DC books. It is a comic book with subtext. The former villain saving the city from the hero turned evil, the underlying tension in the script. All I knew before this about Shade was that he was the only useful member of the Injustice Gang in the Justice League cartoon. Everything above I gleaned through dialogue, and not overly expository on-the-nose comic book dialogue. Context clues and subtext. That's usually stuff saved for the indies.

Standard mainstream comic dialogue.
If she's in mourning, why is she smiling?

In fact, it contains probably the best comic book line ever.

"I couldn't find my spats" - I'm speechless.

Doesn't hurt that I have a soft spot for anything witty and Victorian.

Drawing of the Day: Holy Crap! Animations!

Today I did a couple of run cycles. The Bagel is actually the best run cycle I've ever done. These guys are for the Bacon Samurai pilot. Yes, it still exists, and work is still being done on it.

Drawing of the Day 1/10/09: Whale Gent

Welp, it's done

Well, it's done. After all that teasing.

















It's pretty much how Bayonetta is pure awesome, in the "inspiring awe" sense of the work, combined with how disappointed I was with the God of War III demo (the one packaged with the District 9 Blu-Ray). Then Dante 1 and Dante 2 thrown in for good measure.

I also seem to be drawing everything at a 3/4 angle looking to the left. I'm going to try and draw more dynamic angles. That also means no more video game character chibis for a while. They're a lot of fun, but easy.

I Have a Fever and the Cure is More Dead Angels

I'm breaking my own rules on this Drawing of the Day thing, but when you've worked eighteen to twenty hours on a drawing you A) want to keep it a surprise and B) want to see it through to the end. So just so you know I'm not being lazy, here's another little hint.


















I probably only need another six hours to finish.

So I made up for yesterday, I actually made three drawings. It's a poor quality cell phone pic for a reason. The three pictures will be combined, inked, and colored soon. I don't want to do a reveal just yet, but I don't want you guys to think I'm slacking off.

















I just got Bayonetta, and I've spent all my time drawing her as opposed to playing her. She is a cruel temptress.

WARNING: Ezio Did Not Kill Civilians

Drawing of the Day 1/3/10
Beat Assassin's Creed II today. I was really proud of yesterday's Chibi Ezio, and he was drawn with his blade drawn, so what the hell. Here's some adorable, adorable civilian murder.

Drawing of the Day 1/2/10: SD Ezio

Technically it's still today since I have yet to sleep. Lil Ezio turned out too gosh darn adorable to not ink and color. Enjoy.

Drawing a Day

Since graduating from college, animation degree firmly in hand (or technically, an empty folder in hand, and a degree mailed two weeks later), I haven't really been doing as much creatively as I used to. I am drawing and I assure you I'm animating on my infrequent days off, but I need something smaller to do in the meantime, something for my lunch break or the train ride. So call it a New Years Resolution, but I'm going to try and do a drawing a day.

The rules are: One drawing every day. It doesn't need to be finished, it doesn't need to be good. Whatever I have, I post. So here goes. Wish me luck, as these things are easier to do with someone nagging you.

12/29/09 - Robot Modeling Slacks
His name is Enrique. He is a model.






















12/30/09 - Shoryuken on the Wake Up
I got back into playing Street Fighter IV. For clarity, the mom is saying "Time to get up honey. I made pancakes" followed by forward, down, down-right, punch.














12/30/09 - Riviera Tattoo
My friend wanted me to draw him a tattoo from the PSP game Riviera: The Promised Land.






















1/1/10 - Johnny
Here is Johnny from "The Room" in all his tuxedoed, grammatically incorrect glory.
The mistake I made, the one where I don't know what year it is is deliberate to honor "The Room".






















"The Room" for those unaware, is the greatest cinematic masterpiece ever crafted. It is so transcendent that it could not have possibly been made by someone of this plane of existence. Read all about it here or just watch the clips below.