Friday, August 19, 2005

More on Joe Ranft

I am dumbfounded by the lack of coverage that the death of Joe Ranft has received. While he wasn't a big movie star, he was a star of many HUGE DVDs. If you've ever watched an extra feature on a Pixar DVD or listened to a commentary, you heard Joe Ranft and you felt his goofy charm, his wittiness and that spirit that shaped the stories of so many films that you now love. As a fan of the art of animation, I feel terribly grieved by the loss.

In fact, at Pixar, it could be said that Joe was the first actor on the film, considering his tremendous work on story boards and story. Listen to any of those commentaries or extras on those DVDs and you will hear a mantra:

"Story comes first"

That's why Pixar succeeds where others fail. And at Pixar the word "story" will forever be intertwined with "Joe Ranft".

Last night I found something I wrote about the initial trailer for the Incredibles and I thought I'd repost it here, in honor of Joe. It was his spirit, his sense of play and heart, that really helped inspire the films, the stories and the development of those characters.

I titled it "Animate":
This is what life is all about.

Right now some of you are saying, “That’s just a stupid cartoon. And I don’t get it. I suppose it’s kind of funny, sure. But it’s not Shrek funny. And why does the character look so weird?”

To those comments and questions I reply: you’re stupid.

Though animation has not traditionally been an American industry, it certainly has been a benchmark of American art. From Fleischer to Disney to Warner’s to Pixar, America has always led the way as far as breakthrough animation. American artists have taken the chances, destroyed the boundaries and created beautiful, living pictures. Let me say that again: Living Pictures.

Film maker David Lynch once said the reason why he started making films was because he wanted to see his paintings move. “I looked at one, and heard a wind. Then I started making films.”

To most people, pictures are just that: Pictures. However, to an animator, a picture is the prelude to a moment. Any given painting shows that moment, but a great painting implies the next moment and fills it with mystery.

I’ll use Edward Hopper as an example: his painting “Chop Suey” shows two dapper women sitting and enjoying a mid-day meal. And you could enjoy it merely for that moment. But looking closer, you notice that the woman facing you isn’t looking at her companion. And the woman with her back to you looks slumped down, tired. You want this painting to move, to give you a clue as to what happens next.

Artists can also give life to inanimate objects. Again, using Hopper, his ”House by a Railroad” shows a simple, turn-of-the-century home sitting behind a railway. But look at the house closely. What’s wrong with it? It looks sad. As if it is sighing. As if the simple act of staying standing may be too much effort for it. It’s a lonely, sad building.

The greatest moment Hopper has ever shown was in his painting “New York Movie”. There’s no reason to describe this one. The image itself screams with a story. A wonderful story. This painting almost begs to move. You want to know what happens next. It tells you an incomplete story, which is part of its mastery.

Animators take painting to the next level. They are artists who truly do give life. They take a motionless object and give it motion. Fluid grace and movement. The swinging of a pony tail, the brush of an arm against the dress, an embrace, touching of a cheek.

But more so than simply giving life where there once was no life, animators show us things that we can only imagine. Dancing trees and skeletons, water dancing to music, talking animals, living toys . . . They give life to whole worlds that seem to be just around the corner. And it is the part of the imagination that drives these projects that gets them pigeonholed as children’s projects.

Animators are one of the lucky few have never lost a child’s sense of glee with how the universe works. An animator will look at a dandelion blowing in the wind and stare for hours at its movement. He’ll blow the seeds into the wind and watch how they fly through the air.

Unlike a child, an animator can show us what he sees. Just because animated fare generally appeals to children (for obvious reasons: children like invented worlds, they like the color palettes and they like the stories they tell . . . that an adult cannot dive into the part of their imagination that animation requires is not the fault of the artist, but of the audience).

Pixar, the maker of the above clip, understands us better than anyone. They know that the only difference between children and adults is that many adults have forgotten how to be a kid. They’ve forgotten how to play. Pixar shows us great and wondrous worlds that we heartily wish existed.

They paint beautiful pictures that move with a grace; fluidity and humanity that make us laugh and cry. They can show a wind blow through the grass, a current rip through the ocean, with such a stunning beauty that we are astounded.

Better yet, Pixar doesn’t strive for hyper reality like some animated studios do. True, they aim to get their characters to move realistically, they try to get textures just right, etc. But they do not try to replicate the real world. They imitate our world for the benefit of their world.

Pixar is the last great animation, if not film, studio. And I hope they continue to delight and challenge us, and themselves.

And I hope they never forget how to be a kid. And I hope they never stop reminding me.

Plus they have really cool ugly shirts.

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