ANIM18 BRITISH ANIMATED FILM
HELLO Anim18 is a UK-wide celebration of British animation, taking place from April to November 2018. Led by Film Hub Wales and Chapter (Cardiff) working with the BFI Film Audience Network and project partners, Anim18 will showcase the best of British talent – past, present and future – through a programme of screenings, activities and events across the UK. Anim18 are bringing together a newly developed network of industry expertise, exhibition partners and community-focused organisations to generate renewed interest in British animation, bring classic titles back into the spotlight, celebrate British talent in new releases, and unveil brand new commissions. If you’d like to take part in Anim18, explore the Anim18 website at anim18.co.uk and check out your local venue for screenings.
To celebrate the weird and wonderful world of British animated film, Anim18 has teamed up with the four of us from Young FAN to be the official Young Ambassadors for the season. All four of us are aged 18-25 and are passionate about animated films. We hope that our ramblings about the films we love will give you a fresh perspective and renewed curiosity to look into the hidden gems of British animated film. Within this zine, you’ll find personal anecdotes about our earliest experiences of animation, an interview with the inspirational Terry Wragg of Leeds Animation Workshop, advice about getting into animation from women working in the industry for all you budding animators out there, and so much more.
WHO WE ARE My name is Alexandra (Alex) Osben, and I am an English and Film Studies graduate and young programmer at the BFI. One of my earliest experiences of animation was watching The Last Unicorn whilst I was in hospital after having my tonsils taken out. There was only one television for the whole children’s ward and we each got an hour time-slot to watch whatever we wanted. I was so engrossed in the fate of the last unicorn that the trauma of having the channel turned over halfway through haunts me to this day. I still don’t know how the film ends! I also remember attending a oneday animation workshop, which I don’t remember much about, but I’m pretty sure plasticine and a video camcorder was involved (this was the ‘90s, after all), and I remember having a lot of fun.
My name is Imogen Dodds, I am 21 years old, studying film at the University of Kent, and am a pint-sized but dedicated fan of animated film. I clearly remember sitting amongst my three siblings, my younger brother rocking back and forth on a Thomas the Tank Engine toy, occasionally being prodded by my eldest sister to stop as we watched a single episode of William’s Wish Wellingtons my parents had taped onto a video to keep us occupied. That is my earliest memory of being exposed to animation in any form, and is probably my fondest. The four of us would watch the same episode of the show, when William is transported to a desert and desperately trying to reach an oasis, so often that together we can piece together the whole thing.
My name is James Calver; I am 23 years old, working by day at the Independent Cinema Office. It was my Nan who first introduced me to animation through an old VHS copy of Wallace & Gromit’s A Close Shave. She used to store it in an old cabinet next to the TV with a child lock on the door – Nan didn’t want us watching television all of the time. It didn’t take me long though to work out how to open the lock, and from that moment onwards that VHS would be the first thing I’d go for every week when I went round there. To this day we’re both still massive Aardman fans, and always go to the cinema to see their latest creation.
My name is Kirsty Prescott. I am 20 years old and a young film programmer at Storyhouse. I have always loved animation and as a child I would watch The Snowman on repeat everyday (much to the joy of my parents). For me the film never lasted long enough and I would quickly rewind the video back to beginning, the short break my parents probably needed before it started all over again. When The Snowman and the Snowdog was released I ran and bought a copy and sat as I did as a child watching it on repeat. Animation is timeless and no matter where I am in life animation is always going to be a love of mine.
AARDENT ANIMATORS
In many British households, the works of Aardman Animations hold a special place in people’s hearts. Some were brought up on the original Wallace & Gromit short films; others watch Chicken Run every year at Christmas; others still are only just discovering the studio now through Shaun the Sheep. In any case, the undeniable Britishness of Aardman has seen them become ingrained in our culture. Although they had seen success with their early stop-motion work, even picking up an Oscar for Creature Comforts, it wasn’t until the friendly, malleable faces of Wallace and Gromit first appeared on our screens that the nation truly started to fall in love with stop-motion animation. The handcrafted nature of the three short films from that era endeared them to many, allowing for the crafting of some of the most iconic characters in British animation. Outside of the titular pair, there was Feathers McGraw, Shaun the Sheep, and – though it may not be as famous – an oven that wants to ski. Over the past couple of decades, the influences of Aardman have become more apparent in the landscape of animation, partly down to their own success. To this day, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit remains the only stop-motion film to snatch the ‘Best Animated Feature’ Academy Award from the clutches of Pixar or Disney. On top of this, eight out of the ten stop-motion features and shorts that Aardman have released have garnered nominations from the Academy, with only Chicken Run and
Early Man not receiving nods (though the latter could be up for an award next year).
Oliver was able to hone his craft, and establish how to visualise an epic story filmed on a minute scale.
During this time, other filmmakers and studios have moved into the world of stop-motion animation to tell their own stories. Laika Entertainment was set up in Oregon as America’s answer to Aardman, focusing solely on the production of stop-motion features. To date, they’ve released four titles, all of which have been successful. Their first title, Coraline, was by far their most popular with the general public, but their most recent title, Kubo and the Two Strings, has been hailed as one of the pinnacles of modern animation.
Beyond the studios and the auteurs, there have been several other stopmotion films made over the past few years that have pushed the platform in different directions while maintaining that handcrafted charm. Duke Johnson and Charlie Kaufman’s Anomalisa could be seen as the first stop-motion feature focused at an adult audience. There was the French film Ma vie de Courgette (My Life as a Courgette), directed by Claude Barras, which, though aimed at younger audiences, dealt with deeply emotional topics through wonderfully colourful visuals and storytelling. Finally, though not made with traditional stopmotion animation, The Lego Movie took the stop-motion style to an international audience, adopting various techniques to give the Lego world a visual aesthetic distinctive from the real world.
Modern auteur Wes Anderson has also adopted the technique in various ways throughout his career, drip-feeding elements into his films since The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou before going on to make two stop-motion animated features: Fantastic Mr. Fox and Isle of Dogs. These two features manage to perfectly encapsulate Anderson’s unique visual style through the hand-sculpted nature of stop-motion. The influence of Aardman on both the works of Laika and Wes Anderson reach even further than simply establishing stop-motion animation as a viable format of storytelling. Tristan Oliver, the trusted DP (director of photography) for many years at Aardman, went on to photograph films for both Laika and Anderson, as well as lending his talents to the hand-painted marvel Loving Vincent. But it was at Aardman that
When you look at the huge increase in the number of stop-motion films over the last few decades, it’s clear that cinema audiences have not lost their hunger for the works of Aardman, Laika and all the other filmmakers who are looking at this format as a possible option for telling their story. Though we may not get to see Wallace and Gromit pair up on screen again, we can rest assured that the charm and wonder of Aardman Animations will continue to be felt for years to come.
James Calver explores the impact of the quintessentially British Aardman Animations on modern animation.
LEEDS ANIMATION WORKSHOP This year Leeds Animation Workshop, a women’s collective, celebrates its 40th anniversary. Their first animated film focused on a key issue raised by the 70s feminist libertarian movement: childcare available for all under 5s. Leeds Animation Workshop’s films always include a message to help other and to be tool for groups to use to share that message. The Anim18 Ambassadors visited the workshop and met with animators Terry and Jo to find out more about it.
Their Purpose ‘Our films have been designed as a response to something that has seemed important to us and provide a way that people can start a discussion about it and ask questions about it. It provokes a discussion, we’re not trying to tell people what to do or saying this is the answer, we are just saying these are the questions we think people should be discussing.’
Why Animation? ‘An animated character is easier for people to relate to and the response is different. With a real person, viewers can become defensive. You can also get more than one person‘s character into one animated figure. Animation helps condense the message.’
Women Working in Animation ‘When we started there weren’t many female animation role models. The animated industry was segregated. 99% of jobs were gender-specific until the mid 80s so if you were a woman in the animation industry you usually went into the paint and trace department. We met one female animator, Joanne Gooding, and had a lot of debate while working with her: the industry used to have a very stereotypical way of drawing women.’
Animated Women ‘The way women talk has changed, but the way they look hasn’t as much. Still, representation of women has certainly moved on. I wouldn’t say it’s there yet, but it’s certainly improving; they don’t break their ankles as soon as the action starts, which they all used to do. There’s been a lot of progress.’
Animation Today ‘Animation is a global industry and the boundaries between live-action and animation are much more fluid. It’s not so clearcut any more. I think independent British animated film is at an amazing period; there are numerous independent animators who are doing really good work and there are numerous women also now doing really good work. The biggest British animated film last year Ethel & Ernest, that came from a production company run by women. The Breadwinner was written, directed, animated and produced by four different women.’
Leeds Animation Workshop Future ‘More money. More people to get involved. An apprentice.’
For more information on the workshop, visit www.leedsanimation.org.
ADVICE FOR ASPIRING ANIMATORS
WATERSHIP DOWN: WHEN RABBITS ATTACK
Inspired by women working in animation, we spoke to a some established female animators and asked them what advice or tips they would give to those looking to get into the industry. A huge thank you to Vicky, Terry and Jo. Here is what they had to say:
‘Make as much work as you can in your spare time. Look out for jobs and opportunities to assist people on different scales of production from lowbudget to high-budget. Take different job roles e.g. spend some time in puppet making or the art department or even the production office. Get to know the way animation is produced. Talk to people, and email animators, production companies and producers through their websites politely asking for advice, or if they have any up and coming projects you might be able to help them out with as you’re looking for experience. Treat these experiences with the greatest respect and thank everyone as they do not have to go out of their way to help you. Keep smiling and GOOD LUCK!’ Vicky Mather, award-winning filmmaker, multimedia artist and lecturer
‘Go for it! Everybody is different. Look for those opportunities. Just start. The more you put in the more you get out. As long as people do it their own way, that’s what’s important.’ Terry and Jo of the not-for-profit women’s collective Leeds Animation Workshop.
It was the last day of summer term. I was eight, and along with my other classmates I was looking forward to a day of doing nothing but colouring in, board games and stories. Our teacher let us do some of that, but she also decided it might be nice to watch a film. What had she brought in for us to watch? Superman, E.T.? Nope – it was a film about rabbits. None of us had heard of Watership Down. The front cover looked innocent enough: just two rabbits casually sitting on their haunches with a lovely red sunset behind them. One of them looked a little concerned, nervous perhaps, but hey – it’s got to be worrying being a rabbit! What struck me initially was the animation style. It was beautifully drawn and not like the Disney films I’d seen. This felt very different in terms of colour and look, and the music was very English countryside. It was all very peaceful. But let’s face it: this is all to lull us, the innocent eight-year-old viewers, into thinking this is just going to be a cute talking-rabbit movie. Admittedly, the Black Rabbit of Death does make an appearance two minutes in, but I think I was still too busy wrestling sweets off Michael Bickett to notice. I think it’s about seven minutes in when the fields of blood first appear. The film doesn’t hang around to signpost the fact that all might not be well in Sandleford Warren. One particular rabbit experiences visions, and they’re not of carrots. From then on it’s quite clear this is a film about survival, and to a bunch of eight-year-olds it was probably the most traumatic thing you could put in front of them, save maybe for Bambi or The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. When the film’s villain, General Woundwort, appeared, I seem to remember there were tears. I don’t know who broke first, but it only took one to go, and the rest followed.
I still find Woundwort horrific today. He’s a complete monster – Begbie with fur. Spill his carrot juice and you can kiss goodbye to consciousness. He knocks other movie villains into a hat. He’d eat your liver, heart and kidneys with fava beans and a nice Chianti. This guy doesn’t need a hockey mask to hide behind. He’s got teeth like Stonehenge, a cold dead eye, and is the size of a small spaniel. He’s no rabbit: he’s a furry nightmare. Woundwort’s last ever words – ‘Come back! Come back, you fools! Come back! Come back and fight! Dogs aren’t dangerous!’ sum him up nicely. He’ll fight anything and everything. His body was never found; maybe he’s still out there, terrorising cows because he likes a challenge. And to a bunch of eight-year-olds that day, he stayed with us for an entire summer and beyond. Cheers, Mrs. Parr.
Imogen Dodds tells us how animation can break through limited worldviews.
I have been surrounded by the Afghanistan conflict for the vast majority of my life but I can barely remember when it fully became conscious knowledge. When I was seven, my family moved to the Ministry of Defence base in Gibraltar: my Dad had been hired to teach at their primary school. Without being fully aware of it, I was making friends and meeting many people who were involved in some way in the conflict. A few years after we left Gibraltar to move back to England I would learn that a close friend of mine lost her father in the Afghanistan war. To me, at the tender age of 10, it placed the war in black and white terms. We were good and Afghanistan was bad. In my young mind, there was no way my best friend’s Dad could do anything wrong. He had to be fighting for a good reason. Seeing the reality Yet Nora Twomey’s 2017 film The Breadwinner showed me the grim reality of what is so often painted as a clear issue in our media. As a child, I could never comprehend what it meant to have ‘boots on the ground’. I couldn’t empathise with the idea of the British soldiers being villains in someone else’s eyes. I was so alienated from the struggles and fears of children the same age as me – how could I ever fathom that reality? Yet thousands of children have to live it. That is why, to me, this film is such so vital. Kilkenny’s Cartoon Saloon is pioneering, in its matching of sweeping mythical storytelling with down-to-earth realities, a combination that is perfectly suited to Deborah Ellis’s much-loved novel. Although I was completely taken in by the fantastical story Parvana, the film’s protagonist, was weaving, the true beauty of the film lies in how we are guided through the eyes of a determined young girl. It is by her resilience that the film does not feel preachy or agenda-driven; the humour and courage are undeniably human. As I watched the film unfold, I suddenly saw the inverse of my childhood. The perspective of a conflict that in my 10-year-old mind made sense but played out before me felt so alien. I had met soldiers that had been the boots on the ground referred to in The Breadwinner’s opening dialogue. Those soldiers had been scary in the eyes of children as old as me. There lies the true power of this beautiful film: its ability to humanise a conflict in a genuine and empathetic way. So as I watched the 11-year-old Parvana on the streets of Kabul, having cut off her hair and put on the clothes of her dead brother to provide a means of survival for her family, the reality of which I had been superficially aware was painted in all its colours before me. The bright excitement of Parvana feeling the tendrils of freedom never afforded to her under the Taliban rule, since women cannot leave their homes unchaperoned, are clouded by the looming threat of war gathering once again.
RESCUE DRAWN Grounded in the story The film is a testament to both Ellis’s novel, painstakingly researched in the late 1990s when she interviewed girls and women in refugee camps in Pakistan, but also Nora Twomey’s sensitivity in her screen adaption. Twomey retains the authentic culture of Ellis’s book yet pushes the narrative so that it shines on the big screen. As the world Parvana creates gently wraps into her reality, the spiralling cut-out animations of her imagination echo Twomey’s past cocreations such as The Secret of Kells, while remaining steadfast to their own specific colours and the culture of Parvana’s Afghanistan. It is the repeated strength of Cartoon Saloon’s style of interlocking theatrical stories with grounded reality, a style that feels suited to the rich culture of Afghanistan. What fills every frame of The Breadwinner is care, love and empathy, all of which are desperately needed to tell this story. A legacy for refugee voices The film’s ability to open eyes and humanise the often-chaotic media of today has inspired other filmmakers. I work with a young filmmakers’ group of 15-25-year-olds called SCREEN31, a branch of the Gulbenkian- and Arts Council-funded organisation ART31 that strives to put young people at the heart of arts and culture. The group met and worked with two Syrian refugees who were the same age as them, and were tasked to create a short stop-motion film of their story. What unfolded was an incredible journey for SCREEN31 as well as Rand and Omar, the refugees. Just as I had grown up with the Afghanistan war in the background of my life, the Syrian war is an ongoing backdrop in many British young people’s lives today. This is why I think The Breadwinner is so important: its bright, heartfelt storytelling inspired a group of young people to eloquently tell the story of two people their age with completely different life experiences. The other important aspect of the use of animation in storytelling, especially in these cases, is that it affords anonymity and protection for the subjects of these films. Rand and Omar could not be shown on screen, but animation allows for their story to still be told. As Annabel, a member of SCREEN31, puts it: ‘I would encourage others to take up the chance to involve yourself with refugees and hear their stories. It is vital to see them for who they are.’ The Story of Rand and Omar will be screened as a short before films at the Gulbenkian, including a screening of The Breadwinner. I hope that as more and more people see The Breadwinner or come across The Story of Rand and Omar, they will inspire others to look at conflicts not through statistics or news reports, but for the people and their stories.
TOP DOGS From the first British animated feature film, Animal Farm (1954), to familyfavourite escape comedy Chicken Run (2000), animators have used animals as their subject matter time and again. Despite the variety of styles and storylines, what is integral to these creature features is the bond between animals and humans. They explore the ways in which we relate to each other and negotiate our coexistence; they teach us about the world around us, and about ourselves. It comes as no surprise that one of the best represented animals in animation is man’s best friend: dogs. From stop-motion feature films to femaledirected shorts, here is a rundown of the best British canine cartoons. The Plague Dogs (Martin Rosen, 1982) After directing heart-wrenching rabbit drama Watership Down in 1978, Martin Rosen went on to adapt another Richard Adams novel, The Plague Dogs, in 1982. The film follows two dogs, Snitter (voiced by the late John Hurt) and Rowf, as they escape from an animal research facility, evading recapture from ‘the white coats’ and trying to survive in the treacherous British countryside. Despite their differences (Rowf remains wary of humans, while Snitter yearns to connect with them in the way that he did with his previous ‘master’), the pair help and care for each other throughout their difficult journey. Equal parts animal abuse inquiry and cinematic escape adventure, the film makes a powerful statement about the need for compassion and empathy between dogs and humans alike.
Alex Osben gives us a rundown of five of the best canine cartoons.
Isle of Dogs (Wes Anderson, 2018)
Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the WereRabbit (Nick Park & Steve Box, 2005) Following the success of Nick Park’s A Grand Day Out (1989), The Wrong Trousers (1993) and A Close Shave (1995), Aardman’s comedic clay duo – the hapless but well-meaning inventor Wallace and his pet beagle Gromit – returned in 2005 for the feature-length adventure Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. While providing a humane pest control service to a town that prides itself on its annual vegetable competition, Wallace uses a mind-altering machine, the ‘Mind Manipulation-O-Matic’, to discourage local rabbits from eating the resident’s prized crops. Soon after, the town is plagued by a giant bunny rabbit, leaving the intelligent and resourceful Gromit to come to the rescue. Known for his uncanny facial expressions and unwavering loyalty to his clumsy companion Wallace, Gromit has become one of the most recognisable and well-loved dogs in cinema.
Almost ten years after directing Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009), Wes Anderson returned to animation with Isle of Dogs. After every dog in Megasaki City is banished to Trash Island by Mayor Kobayashi, his nephew Atari goes on a mission to find his pet Spots. He is soon accompanied by a motley menagerie of abandoned dogs (voiced by the likes of Jeff Goldblum, Edward Norton, and long-time Wes Anderson collaborator Bill Murray) who are eagerly led by reluctant stray Chief (Bryan Cranston). Not only was the film’s title inspired by a certain geographic area of the UK, but the film, like Frankenweenie, was produced at 3 Mills Studios in East London. It was a huge critical and commercial success, proving that we are still a nation of dog-lovers eager to see our furry friends depicted on the big screen.
Frankenweenie (Tim Burton, 2012) After collaborating with Henry Selick on The Nightmare before Christmas (1993) and James and the Giant Peach (1996), and directing stop-motion animation Corpse Bride (2005), master of dark eccentricity Tim Burton directed Frankenweenie (2012). It was the culmination of a long-running idea for the director, expanding on the story of a boy and his dog explored in his 1984 short of the same name. As an homage to Mary Shelley’s famous novel and subsequent cinematic versions of Frankenstein’s monster, a young boy named Victor, inspired by a demonstration in his science class at school, uses electricity to resurrect his deceased bull terrier Sparky. Victor’s experiment soon goes awry, ultimately teaching him how to deal with grief and accept the loss of his beloved pet. The film was nominated for an Academy Award, a Golden Globe and a BAFTA upon its release, and remains one of Burton’s sweetest films to date.
BFI: A New History of British Animation Although not a feature film like the other entries on this list, these canine cartoons deserve a mention. Curators at the BFI have delved deep into their archives to create short film packages celebrating over 100 years of British animation, and they include a range of dog-related material. Proving that the subject of man’s best friend is not restricted to male-directed studio features, these curated programmes include numerous shorts from female filmmakers, and among the most innovative are the ones featuring dogs, such as the mystical companion in Alison De Vere’s Black Dog (1987) and a satirical bulldog in Joanna Quinn’s Britannia (1993), both of which feature in BFI: A New History of British Animation Part 3. These shorts programmes are a great example of the versatility of animation; it is the perfect platform to explore the stories, personalities, and idiosyncrasies of our favourite pet.
Answers: Don’t Worry Be Happy - Bobby McFerrin (Flushed Away) / I Predict A Riot - Kaiser Chiefs (Early Man) / The Wanderer - Dion (Chicken Run) / Not Crying - Flight of the Conchords (Pirates! An Adventure with Scientists) / Blowin’ In the Wind - Bob Dylan (When the Wind Blows) / Yellow Submarine - The Beatles (Yellow Submarine) / Aisling Song - Christian Mooney (The Secrets of Kells) / Bright Eyes - Art Garfunkel (Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit) / Starry Starry Night - Lianne Le Havas (Loving Vincent) / The Crown Sleeps - Qais Essar, Mychael Danna, Jeff Danna (The Breadwinner)
Jeff Danna Don’t Worry Be Happy - Bobby McFerrin
Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
I Predict A Riot - Kaiser Chiefs
The Breadwinner
The Wanderer - Dion
When the Wind Blows
Not Crying - Flight of the Conchords
Yellow Submarine
Blowin’ In the Wind - Bob Dylan
Flushed Away
Yellow Submarine - The Beatles
Pirates! An Adventure with Scientists
Aisling Song - Christian Mooney
The Secret of Kells
Bright Eyes - Art Garfunkel
Early Man
Starry Starry Night - Lianne Le Havas
Loving Vincent
The Crown Sleeps - Qais Essar, Mychael Danna,
Chicken Run
IMOGEN’S ESSENTIAL ANIMATED FILM MIXTAPE