Tuesday, 13 March 2007 04:42 pm
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deckardcanineSometime in the last month, one of my friends complained about the proliferation of CG movies. He declared them to be soulless, with the exception of the better Pixar productions.
It's true that 2006 presented record numbers not just of animated features in general and CG features in particular, but of CG features that bombed. The process obviously has gotten easier: no company would have banked on Everyone's Hero half a decade ago. In some cases, like Jimmy Neutron and Hoodwinked, the designs and movement are unreal enough to appear lazy. It makes sense that this friend, who likes 16-bit consoles best for handling 2D better than today's 3D, would object. Other times, like in The Polar Express, the realism backfires by creeping out many viewers. I imagine that kids are less likely to feel that way.
But here's the thing: what my friend says about CG was probably said before about all animation. And before that, all film. And maybe even all theater. The only way that these media -- these forms of phoniness -- could be legitimized in the eyes of purists, and stay so, was with practice. Once the novelty of the pioneers wore off, junkiness rolled in, but the good stuff kept coming as well. An ultimatum would do no favor to the dignity of good artists. Neither would a monopoly. And Disney has had enough of that.
Of course, one may ask what constitutes "soul" in a piece of work. I'm not entirely sure myself, despite my casual use of the term (hope that's not blasphemy to my church). We speak of a manmade object having soul, or a soul, when the maker seems to have cared a lot about it for reasons other than merchandising. For art, it requires the existence of a heartfelt message rather than any degree of prettiness. There doesn't even have to be much skill, as long as the artist doesn't cop out. Some say that Thomas Kinkade paintings count as soulful by expressing a love for worldly beauty; I'm in the camp that sees mass productions of similar idyllicisms and concludes that they have little if any soul.
The intent and emotion of the originator tend to get dissipated as more people work on it. That's one reason I'm into webcomics: most of them are the work of just one or two. It's also one reason that directors are often portrayed as overbearing: the serious auteurs want to retain the impression of one person's work, even if it takes a thousand to pull together. I suspect that the ones looking only to make moolah are easier on the cast and crew.
So in the Hollywood morass, why single out CG movies? For the same reason that digitally drawn comics get flak, I'm sure. Apparently, when you use electrons instead of paper, it's a greater degree of separation between the artist and the work. Is it because of the possibility of copy-and-paste, blandly duplicating a piece that might have had soul before? That's not a problem when the function isn't used. Is it simply because cyberspace is deemed a world apart? It's not like art buffs will be studying the DNA from my fingers on a hardcopy. Is the computer akin to another dynamic worker in the studio -- or multiple people, judging from the work one computer can do? Maybe if you're paranoid on a level you don't realize. The modern machine will not impose a personality, and I doubt that future machines will have you saying, "Open the Paint window, HAL."
Ultimately, my guess is that as much as we embrace new technology for other purposes, we become highly suspect when it enters the realms of our greatest interests.
It's true that 2006 presented record numbers not just of animated features in general and CG features in particular, but of CG features that bombed. The process obviously has gotten easier: no company would have banked on Everyone's Hero half a decade ago. In some cases, like Jimmy Neutron and Hoodwinked, the designs and movement are unreal enough to appear lazy. It makes sense that this friend, who likes 16-bit consoles best for handling 2D better than today's 3D, would object. Other times, like in The Polar Express, the realism backfires by creeping out many viewers. I imagine that kids are less likely to feel that way.
But here's the thing: what my friend says about CG was probably said before about all animation. And before that, all film. And maybe even all theater. The only way that these media -- these forms of phoniness -- could be legitimized in the eyes of purists, and stay so, was with practice. Once the novelty of the pioneers wore off, junkiness rolled in, but the good stuff kept coming as well. An ultimatum would do no favor to the dignity of good artists. Neither would a monopoly. And Disney has had enough of that.
Of course, one may ask what constitutes "soul" in a piece of work. I'm not entirely sure myself, despite my casual use of the term (hope that's not blasphemy to my church). We speak of a manmade object having soul, or a soul, when the maker seems to have cared a lot about it for reasons other than merchandising. For art, it requires the existence of a heartfelt message rather than any degree of prettiness. There doesn't even have to be much skill, as long as the artist doesn't cop out. Some say that Thomas Kinkade paintings count as soulful by expressing a love for worldly beauty; I'm in the camp that sees mass productions of similar idyllicisms and concludes that they have little if any soul.
The intent and emotion of the originator tend to get dissipated as more people work on it. That's one reason I'm into webcomics: most of them are the work of just one or two. It's also one reason that directors are often portrayed as overbearing: the serious auteurs want to retain the impression of one person's work, even if it takes a thousand to pull together. I suspect that the ones looking only to make moolah are easier on the cast and crew.
So in the Hollywood morass, why single out CG movies? For the same reason that digitally drawn comics get flak, I'm sure. Apparently, when you use electrons instead of paper, it's a greater degree of separation between the artist and the work. Is it because of the possibility of copy-and-paste, blandly duplicating a piece that might have had soul before? That's not a problem when the function isn't used. Is it simply because cyberspace is deemed a world apart? It's not like art buffs will be studying the DNA from my fingers on a hardcopy. Is the computer akin to another dynamic worker in the studio -- or multiple people, judging from the work one computer can do? Maybe if you're paranoid on a level you don't realize. The modern machine will not impose a personality, and I doubt that future machines will have you saying, "Open the Paint window, HAL."
Ultimately, my guess is that as much as we embrace new technology for other purposes, we become highly suspect when it enters the realms of our greatest interests.
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