The story of the making of Ren and Stimpy is one of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object. The irresistible force was John Kricfalusi, a veteran animation artist who was disgusted with the quality of TV animation. He was determined to push the art and humour closer to the Warner Bros. cartoons he admired, though with a decidedly personal twist. The immovable object was the TV industry, specifically cable channel Nickelodeon. Like all channels, it was dedicated to budget restraint, regular air dates, and bland content that wouldn't provoke attacks. From the start, this relationship was a disaster in the making. The surprise, though, is that it produced a hit show.
Thad Komorowski's book, Sick Little Monkeys: The Unauthorized Ren and Stimpy Story, exhaustively examines the behind-the-scenes goings on. He starts with John K's career in Saturday morning cartoon factories and details his relationship with Ralph Bakshi. Together they made The New Adventures of Mighty Mouse, a sort of precursor to Ren and Stimpy. Even before Ren and Stimpy, Kricfalusi was butting heads with broadcasters, as his experience on the short-lived Beany and Cecil revival shows.
For those not familiar with the history of Ren and Stimpy, it was one of Nickelodon's first three original animated series and the one that attracted the most attention. There was no question that John K's sensibility was a success with audiences. However, right from the start, the show developed schedule problems due to a mismatch between what the artists wanted to make and what Nickelodeon was willing to air. John K. was another factor delaying production, as he wasn't willing to approve things until they met his standard. When the delays continued during the second season, Nickelodeon fired John K. and his studio. Nickelodon created its own in-house studio to continue production and Ren and Stimpy lasted for another three seasons without John K.
While that might have been the end of the story, John K. was reunited with his characters when another cable channel, Spike TV, revived the series for an adult audience. Unfortunately, Kricfalusi's insistence on meeting his vision at any cost doomed the revival. While the order was for just six episodes, only two made their air dates and the last delivered a year late. Spike lost interest in the show and didn't bother to play three of the episodes.
John K. is a controversial figure who divides artists and fans into those who support him and those who think that he is responsible for his own misfortunes. Komorowski walks the middle ground, showing that all parties made mistakes and refused to consider the others' point of view, but he does not excuse Kricfalusi's behavior. Komorowski talked to many artists who worked on the show and quotes many Nickelodeon executives on the problems they faced getting episodes on air. While I don't doubt that people involved in the production could quibble with Komorowski's version of specific events, it strikes me that the book is even-handed in apportioning credit and blame.
Fans of the show will enjoy comparing their opinion of each episode to the author's and learning of material that was cut and censored.
If you are not a fan of the show, this book is still worth reading for the light it sheds on the workings of the TV animation business. There is always tension between artists and business people over resources and content. People working in TV animation and those with ambitions to create shows need to understand the pressures and the pitfalls that shape the business. Sick Little Monkeys: The Unauthorized Ren and Stimpy Story is a cautionary tale about walking the fine line between artistic ambition and the reality of the marketplace.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Cast Off!
After 37 days, my cast (the last of four) is off. There's a lot of work to do to regain flexibility and strength. However, life is a little closer to normal now.
Coming soon: Reviews of Sick Little Monkeys: The Unauthorized Ren and Stimpy Story by Thad Komorowski and John Carter and the Gods of Hollywood by Michael D. Sellers.
Coming soon: Reviews of Sick Little Monkeys: The Unauthorized Ren and Stimpy Story by Thad Komorowski and John Carter and the Gods of Hollywood by Michael D. Sellers.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Gone But Not Forgotten
How do you follow up an animation hardware history? With a look at The Museum of Forgotten Art Supplies.
Monday, January 07, 2013
Hardware History
J.J. Sedelmaier has written an interesting history of animation disks for Imprint magazine.
People who entered the animation business in the recent past have lived totally within a digital world. But before computers, animation had its own set of very specific hardware, developed from the 1910s onward to facilitate the creation of cartoons.
There were studios with their own peg standards as well as Acme pegs (which dominated the California business) and Oxberry pegs (which dominated in New York). There was even another standard, not mentioned in the article, that came from the U.S. Signal Corps from World War II and made it into the animation industry as war surplus.
The picture above is a Fleischer set-up. Note the goose-neck lamp for top lighting. Fleischer used top pegs, where Disney used bottom pegs. There's a wire coil at the top right to hold pencils and brushes and the holder on the left for ink and paint. The disk rotates on rubber rollers (pictured in the article). As the Fleischers were inventors and very mechanically minded, they put a lot of effort into creating equipment that would make production efficient.
The article shows a great many disks and set-ups. It's a walk down memory lane for many of us and a history lesson for those who grew up more likely to be manipulating a mouse than a pencil.
People who entered the animation business in the recent past have lived totally within a digital world. But before computers, animation had its own set of very specific hardware, developed from the 1910s onward to facilitate the creation of cartoons.
There were studios with their own peg standards as well as Acme pegs (which dominated the California business) and Oxberry pegs (which dominated in New York). There was even another standard, not mentioned in the article, that came from the U.S. Signal Corps from World War II and made it into the animation industry as war surplus.
The picture above is a Fleischer set-up. Note the goose-neck lamp for top lighting. Fleischer used top pegs, where Disney used bottom pegs. There's a wire coil at the top right to hold pencils and brushes and the holder on the left for ink and paint. The disk rotates on rubber rollers (pictured in the article). As the Fleischers were inventors and very mechanically minded, they put a lot of effort into creating equipment that would make production efficient.
The article shows a great many disks and set-ups. It's a walk down memory lane for many of us and a history lesson for those who grew up more likely to be manipulating a mouse than a pencil.
Thursday, January 03, 2013
Where Characters Come From
If you've ever created stories -- whether written, drawn or filmed -- you are familiar with the experience of having the characters dictate where the story is going to go. You may start out pushing the characters through your plot, but if you're doing your job right, the characters start to drive events and you, as creator, just follow them to see what's going to happen.
Author Corey Doctorow has an interesting idea about why this occurs. If you make stories or want to make stories, it's worth reading in full.
Author Corey Doctorow has an interesting idea about why this occurs. If you make stories or want to make stories, it's worth reading in full.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Who's Afraid of Song of the South?
Disney historian Jim Korkis's latest book is Who's Afraid of the Song of the South? and Other Forbidden Disney Stories. The main section of the book is an in-depth look at the production of the film that Disney has chosen to suppress.
While Korkis deals with the current controversy surrounding the film, he traces the film's origins and shows that the controversy started even before the film was released. In the period after World War II, when the U.S. had defeated a fascist power that claimed it was racially superior, Black Americans felt strongly that it was time for the United States to abolish its own discriminatory practices. That included the portrayal of Black people in popular culture. Black audiences were no longer satisfied with stereotypical screen portrayals of porters, maids and lazy or frightened comedy relief.
In the post-war years, Hollywood began to tackle discrimination in live action films such as Gentleman's Agreement (1947), which dealt with discrimination against Jews, and Pinky (1949), where a Black woman passes for White before returning to her own community. But it wouldn't be until the 1950s and the rise of Sidney Poitier before Black performers were cast in leading roles that were dramatically respectable.
Song of the South (1945) sits at the cusp between pre- and post-war racial attitudes and as Korkis shows, that's one of the things that makes the film hard to deal with. The various screenwriters included a southerner with typical racial views as well as a left-leaning victim of the blacklist. Black actor Clarence Muse was hired as a consultant, but left the project over the film's racial attitudes, yet Muse himself later appeared in films like Riding High (1950) and The Sun Shines Bright (1953), neither of which could be considered racially progressive. The reviews of the time also straddle changing racial attitudes, with some wholly praising the film while others expressing reservations on its treatment of race.
Korkis covers the writers, the cast, the production of the live action, the animation, the music, the reviews and the controversy surrounding the film. Beyond the race issue, the film is important for other reasons. It was Disney's first foray into a feature dominated by live action. It was photographed by Gregg Toland, cinematographer of The Grapes of Wrath (1940) and Citizen Kane (1941), and this was Toland's first film in colour. Bobby Driscoll and Luana Patten, the child stars in the film, went on to other star in other Disney films, making them the first live performers under contract to the studio. It was also the first Disney live action film to receive an Oscar, albeit an honorary one for James Baskette, who played Uncle Remus.
Korkis also writes about how the animated characters were used in other Disney projects such as Splash Mountain and various comics and other publications.
The balance of the book is a bit of a hodge podge, lacking the strong focus of the first 100 pages. Some of the material is related, such as the deleted Black centaurette in re-releases of Fantasia. While the material covered is interesting, such as Disney's failed attempts to craft films based on the Oz books and John Carter of Mars before the films that were eventually released, this material could hardly be described as "forbidden." Korkis is a thorough historian and the material is interesting, but as a book, it doesn't hang together as strongly as it might.
Be that as it may, there's a wealth of interesting Disneyana here. Korkis's dedication to shining light into the nooks and crannies of Disney history always produces surprises for the reader and fills out the picture of Walt Disney and the company he created. As the current Disney management would prefer to forget the existence of Song of the South, this book serves as the closest the film is likely to get to a "making of" book.
While Korkis deals with the current controversy surrounding the film, he traces the film's origins and shows that the controversy started even before the film was released. In the period after World War II, when the U.S. had defeated a fascist power that claimed it was racially superior, Black Americans felt strongly that it was time for the United States to abolish its own discriminatory practices. That included the portrayal of Black people in popular culture. Black audiences were no longer satisfied with stereotypical screen portrayals of porters, maids and lazy or frightened comedy relief.
In the post-war years, Hollywood began to tackle discrimination in live action films such as Gentleman's Agreement (1947), which dealt with discrimination against Jews, and Pinky (1949), where a Black woman passes for White before returning to her own community. But it wouldn't be until the 1950s and the rise of Sidney Poitier before Black performers were cast in leading roles that were dramatically respectable.
Song of the South (1945) sits at the cusp between pre- and post-war racial attitudes and as Korkis shows, that's one of the things that makes the film hard to deal with. The various screenwriters included a southerner with typical racial views as well as a left-leaning victim of the blacklist. Black actor Clarence Muse was hired as a consultant, but left the project over the film's racial attitudes, yet Muse himself later appeared in films like Riding High (1950) and The Sun Shines Bright (1953), neither of which could be considered racially progressive. The reviews of the time also straddle changing racial attitudes, with some wholly praising the film while others expressing reservations on its treatment of race.
Korkis covers the writers, the cast, the production of the live action, the animation, the music, the reviews and the controversy surrounding the film. Beyond the race issue, the film is important for other reasons. It was Disney's first foray into a feature dominated by live action. It was photographed by Gregg Toland, cinematographer of The Grapes of Wrath (1940) and Citizen Kane (1941), and this was Toland's first film in colour. Bobby Driscoll and Luana Patten, the child stars in the film, went on to other star in other Disney films, making them the first live performers under contract to the studio. It was also the first Disney live action film to receive an Oscar, albeit an honorary one for James Baskette, who played Uncle Remus.
Korkis also writes about how the animated characters were used in other Disney projects such as Splash Mountain and various comics and other publications.
The balance of the book is a bit of a hodge podge, lacking the strong focus of the first 100 pages. Some of the material is related, such as the deleted Black centaurette in re-releases of Fantasia. While the material covered is interesting, such as Disney's failed attempts to craft films based on the Oz books and John Carter of Mars before the films that were eventually released, this material could hardly be described as "forbidden." Korkis is a thorough historian and the material is interesting, but as a book, it doesn't hang together as strongly as it might.
Be that as it may, there's a wealth of interesting Disneyana here. Korkis's dedication to shining light into the nooks and crannies of Disney history always produces surprises for the reader and fills out the picture of Walt Disney and the company he created. As the current Disney management would prefer to forget the existence of Song of the South, this book serves as the closest the film is likely to get to a "making of" book.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Kimball Christmas Cards
If you aren't visiting Amid Amidi's site 365 Days of Ward Kimball, you're missing out on some beautiful art. Currently, there's lots of Christmas related artwork.
During his talk on Kimball at the Ottawa International Animation Festival last September, Amidi made it a point to say that Kimball's style was evolving towards more modern graphics in the 1940s. The above cards (1945 on top and 1946 on the bottom) are great examples of the turn Kimball's style was taking. Both are, of course, well drawn. But while the 1945 card is conventional in its use of perspective and structure, the '46 card breaks away from realistic perspective and revels in flattening out shapes. While UPA would animate this stylistic approach a couple of years later, Kimball was prepared to do so but wouldn't get the chance until Melody, Toot Whistle Plunk and Boom and the TV episodes he directed for the Disneyland series in the 1950s.
Darrell Van Citters Interviewed
This week marks the 50th anniversary of Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, the first animated TV special. Darrell Van Citters has written the book on the making of the show and film historian Frank Thompson interviews Van Citters on his podcast The Commentary Track.
Thompson has also interviewed Cartoon Brew's Jerry Beck but those of you interested in film history in general will be interested in other Thompson podcasts, which include interviews with character actor L.Q. Jones (talking about working with John Ford, Sam Peckinpah, and Budd Boetticher), and film historians Rudy Behlmer, Kevin Brownlow, Robert S. Birchard, John Bengston, Randy Skredvedt and Joan Myers.
Friday, December 07, 2012
The Difference Between Walt Disney and Robert Iger
From Seth Godin:
"Capitalists take risks. They see an opportunity, an unmet need, and then they bring resources to bear to solve the problem and make a profit.
"Industrialists seek stability instead.
"Industrialists work to take working systems and polish them, insulate them from risk, maximize productivity and extract the maximum amount of profit. Much of society's wealth is due to the relentless march of productivity created by single-minded industrialists, particularly those that turned nascent industries (as Henry Ford did with cars) into efficient engines of profit.
"Industrialists don't mind government regulations if they write them, don't particularly like competition or creativity or change. They are maximizers of the existing status quo."
Friday, November 23, 2012
Who Owns History? Who Owns Culture? Who Owns Speech?
The Walt Disney company is responsible for delaying the publication of Full Steam Ahead!: The Life and Art of Ward Kimball by Amid Amidi. The reason, according to the author, is that Disney is unhappy that Kimball's life doesn't conform to the company's exacting standards. Disney has had the book since January of 2012 and has yet to approve it. The publication of the book has been delayed a minimum of seven months, preventing those who pre-ordered the book from reading it and delaying earnings for both the author and publisher.
I have not read the book and I certainly don't know the specific text that Disney is objecting to, but I find this situation to be very troubling for the chill it casts over our ability to comment on the world we live in.
We are now in a time where entertainment corporations have run amuck. I have recently written about Sony taking ownership of any artwork submitted by job applicants. In Finland, the police have confiscated the laptop of a nine year old girl for downloading a single song from the Pirate Bay. In addition, they have fined the girl 600 Euros, even though the girl's father has proved that the girl later bought the album and concert tickets for the band in question. Several countries have instituted laws where three copyright violations can result in a user being banned from the internet altogether.
One of the problems with this ban is how arbitrarily copyright violations are enforced. All over the web, there are sites which could be construed to be violating copyright. I say "could be" as a court could decide that material qualifies as fair use. And the copyright holder gets to selectively decide who to prosecute and who to ignore. In other words, if the company thinks the copyright violation is good marketing, it will turn a blind eye.
Beyond the logistics of corporations using the law to arbitrarily punish people, there is the much larger question of who owns history, culture and speech? When culture is manufactured for a profit, do we have the right to discuss it, criticize it and respond to it? Can we use examples to make our case or are we limited by the legal rights of the manufacturer?
As the entertainment corporations are now multinational behemoths with whole staffs of lawyers charged with protecting intellectual property, they use the threat of legal action as a deterrent. The Kimball book is a case in point. In court, it could be argued that any Disney artwork used in the book is fair use. What's one still image from the more than 100,000 frames in a feature film? How is the publication of a still depriving Disney of income? Disney could not suppress a book based on its text without proving libel, but it can suppress a book before the fact by denying the use of artwork and the threat of a lawsuit if a publisher decides to take a chance and publish anyway.
Unfortunately, this is not an isolated incident. Disney owns Marvel and denied Sean Howe, the author of Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, the use of illustrations unless they could approve the text of the book. Howe and his publisher decided to forgo illustrations, so the history of a comic book company has no images of the artwork that made the company worth writing about. And as I mentioned above, copyright prosecutions are arbitrary. Howe has a tumblr where he has included images that should have been included in the book and so far, Disney hasn't complained.
How strange is it that in the western world, it is permissible to comment on governments but not on companies that make cartoons? As corporations have increasingly lobbied governments to write laws for their own benefit, we may soon reach a point where criticizing governments is irrelevant and the corporations who should be criticized will stifle all dissent.
I have not read the book and I certainly don't know the specific text that Disney is objecting to, but I find this situation to be very troubling for the chill it casts over our ability to comment on the world we live in.
We are now in a time where entertainment corporations have run amuck. I have recently written about Sony taking ownership of any artwork submitted by job applicants. In Finland, the police have confiscated the laptop of a nine year old girl for downloading a single song from the Pirate Bay. In addition, they have fined the girl 600 Euros, even though the girl's father has proved that the girl later bought the album and concert tickets for the band in question. Several countries have instituted laws where three copyright violations can result in a user being banned from the internet altogether.
One of the problems with this ban is how arbitrarily copyright violations are enforced. All over the web, there are sites which could be construed to be violating copyright. I say "could be" as a court could decide that material qualifies as fair use. And the copyright holder gets to selectively decide who to prosecute and who to ignore. In other words, if the company thinks the copyright violation is good marketing, it will turn a blind eye.
Beyond the logistics of corporations using the law to arbitrarily punish people, there is the much larger question of who owns history, culture and speech? When culture is manufactured for a profit, do we have the right to discuss it, criticize it and respond to it? Can we use examples to make our case or are we limited by the legal rights of the manufacturer?
As the entertainment corporations are now multinational behemoths with whole staffs of lawyers charged with protecting intellectual property, they use the threat of legal action as a deterrent. The Kimball book is a case in point. In court, it could be argued that any Disney artwork used in the book is fair use. What's one still image from the more than 100,000 frames in a feature film? How is the publication of a still depriving Disney of income? Disney could not suppress a book based on its text without proving libel, but it can suppress a book before the fact by denying the use of artwork and the threat of a lawsuit if a publisher decides to take a chance and publish anyway.
Unfortunately, this is not an isolated incident. Disney owns Marvel and denied Sean Howe, the author of Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, the use of illustrations unless they could approve the text of the book. Howe and his publisher decided to forgo illustrations, so the history of a comic book company has no images of the artwork that made the company worth writing about. And as I mentioned above, copyright prosecutions are arbitrary. Howe has a tumblr where he has included images that should have been included in the book and so far, Disney hasn't complained.
How strange is it that in the western world, it is permissible to comment on governments but not on companies that make cartoons? As corporations have increasingly lobbied governments to write laws for their own benefit, we may soon reach a point where criticizing governments is irrelevant and the corporations who should be criticized will stifle all dissent.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
More Artist Exploitation
In the past, if you pitched an idea to a studio, they would ask you to sign a release form before pitching. The form stated that the studio might already be developing a property similar to what you were about to pitch and that you acknowledged this. The purpose of the form was to prevent the people pitching from launching lawsuits if they felt their ideas had been stolen by the studios. In truth, at any given moment, studios have multiple properties in development and coincidences do occur. There were also cases where the release forms allowed studios to rip off ideas without paying for them.
However, the release form made no claims to ownership of the material being pitched. The pitcher was free to take the material anywhere else.
The world has changed for the worse. Sony is hiring storyboard artists and visual development artists. They are not looking for ideas here; they are looking for artists who can draw and develop ideas that Sony will provide. It is clearly a work-for-hire arrangement. Yet Sony, in its terms of use portion of the online application for both jobs states this:
7. Submissions
Subject to applicable law and except as otherwise expressly provided in any other agreement that you (or your employer if you are not employed by SPE) may have with SPE with respect to the resources made available on this Site (a “Base Agreement”):
• You agree that any intellectual property or materials, including but not limited to questions, comments, suggestions, ideas, discoveries, plans, notes, drawings, original or creative materials, or other information, provided by you in the form of e-mail or electronic submissions to SPE, or uploads or postings to this Site (“Submissions”), shall become the sole property of SPE to the fullest extent permitted by applicable law and will be considered "works made for hire" or "commissioned works" owned by SPE;
• To the extent that any Submission may not constitute a "work made for hire" or "commissioned work" owned by SPE under applicable law, you hereby irrevocably assign, and agree to assign, to SPE all current and future right, title and interest in any and all such Submissions; and
• SPE shall own exclusive rights, including any and all intellectual property rights, and shall be entitled to the unrestricted use of Submissions for any purpose, commercial or otherwise, without acknowledgment or additional compensation to you.
In the event applicable law operates to prevent such assignment described above, or otherwise prevents SPE from becoming the sole owner of any such Submissions, you agree to grant to SPE, and this provision shall be effective as granting to SPE, (with unfettered rights of assignment) a perpetual, worldwide, paid-in-full, nonexclusive right (including any moral rights) and license to make, use, sell, reproduce, modify, adapt, publish, translate, create derivative works from, distribute, communicate to the public, perform and display the Submissions (in whole or in part) worldwide and or to incorporate it in other works in any form, media, or technology now known or later developed, for the full term of any rights that may exist in any such Submissions.
By making Submissions, you represent that (i) you have full power and authority to make the assignment and license set forth above, (ii) the Submissions do not infringe the intellectual property rights of any third party, and (iii) SPE shall be free and have the right to use, assign, modify, edit, alter, adapt, distribute, dispose, promote, display, and transmit the Submissions, or reproduce them, in whole or in part, without compensation, notification, or additional consent from you or from any third party.
Essentially, the above states that Sony takes ownership of your portfolio material when you apply for the job. If you are submitting samples of work you have done for other companies, Sony wants you to assign the rights to them. You clearly don't have the authority to do that for work you don't own, so that means that you are not legally allowed to show Sony work you've done for other companies. Sort of defeats the purpose of a submission portfolio, doesn't it?
What's clearly disturbing though, is that any original work in your portfolio becomes their property. This does not depend on whether they hire you or not, they get ownership because you applied.
How absurd is this? It means that legally, you could not take your own work and use it to apply to another company later, as it would now be owned by Sony. Furthermore, what right does Sony have to take ownership of your work without payment? And of course, it's not enough that Sony owns it, they list all the ways that they can use and mutilate your work "without compensation, notification, additional consent from you or from any third party."
Sony's lawyers have been overzealous here. It means that nobody should be applying for these jobs, as you can't show them your work for others and shouldn't show them your personal work.
Undoubtedly, someone will say it's just boilerplate. Sony would never exercise these rights, they're just trying to protect themselves. People sign what they have to in order to get work. But it remains a legal document unless it is successfully challenged in court, and that takes time and money.
Imagine this scenario. I may hire you, but before you apply, I say you have to sign an I.O.U. for $100,000. I have no intention of ever collecting. It's just a formality. But the fact remains that by applying to work for me, you've given me the right to collect $100,000 from you. Would you want that hanging over your head? Would you want to hire a lawyer and go to court if I decide to collect? Isn't it doubly absurd if I don't hire you and never pay you a nickel but still want the $100,000?
Sony needs to rewrite their terms of use.
However, the release form made no claims to ownership of the material being pitched. The pitcher was free to take the material anywhere else.
The world has changed for the worse. Sony is hiring storyboard artists and visual development artists. They are not looking for ideas here; they are looking for artists who can draw and develop ideas that Sony will provide. It is clearly a work-for-hire arrangement. Yet Sony, in its terms of use portion of the online application for both jobs states this:
7. Submissions
Subject to applicable law and except as otherwise expressly provided in any other agreement that you (or your employer if you are not employed by SPE) may have with SPE with respect to the resources made available on this Site (a “Base Agreement”):
• You agree that any intellectual property or materials, including but not limited to questions, comments, suggestions, ideas, discoveries, plans, notes, drawings, original or creative materials, or other information, provided by you in the form of e-mail or electronic submissions to SPE, or uploads or postings to this Site (“Submissions”), shall become the sole property of SPE to the fullest extent permitted by applicable law and will be considered "works made for hire" or "commissioned works" owned by SPE;
• To the extent that any Submission may not constitute a "work made for hire" or "commissioned work" owned by SPE under applicable law, you hereby irrevocably assign, and agree to assign, to SPE all current and future right, title and interest in any and all such Submissions; and
• SPE shall own exclusive rights, including any and all intellectual property rights, and shall be entitled to the unrestricted use of Submissions for any purpose, commercial or otherwise, without acknowledgment or additional compensation to you.
In the event applicable law operates to prevent such assignment described above, or otherwise prevents SPE from becoming the sole owner of any such Submissions, you agree to grant to SPE, and this provision shall be effective as granting to SPE, (with unfettered rights of assignment) a perpetual, worldwide, paid-in-full, nonexclusive right (including any moral rights) and license to make, use, sell, reproduce, modify, adapt, publish, translate, create derivative works from, distribute, communicate to the public, perform and display the Submissions (in whole or in part) worldwide and or to incorporate it in other works in any form, media, or technology now known or later developed, for the full term of any rights that may exist in any such Submissions.
By making Submissions, you represent that (i) you have full power and authority to make the assignment and license set forth above, (ii) the Submissions do not infringe the intellectual property rights of any third party, and (iii) SPE shall be free and have the right to use, assign, modify, edit, alter, adapt, distribute, dispose, promote, display, and transmit the Submissions, or reproduce them, in whole or in part, without compensation, notification, or additional consent from you or from any third party.
Essentially, the above states that Sony takes ownership of your portfolio material when you apply for the job. If you are submitting samples of work you have done for other companies, Sony wants you to assign the rights to them. You clearly don't have the authority to do that for work you don't own, so that means that you are not legally allowed to show Sony work you've done for other companies. Sort of defeats the purpose of a submission portfolio, doesn't it?
What's clearly disturbing though, is that any original work in your portfolio becomes their property. This does not depend on whether they hire you or not, they get ownership because you applied.
How absurd is this? It means that legally, you could not take your own work and use it to apply to another company later, as it would now be owned by Sony. Furthermore, what right does Sony have to take ownership of your work without payment? And of course, it's not enough that Sony owns it, they list all the ways that they can use and mutilate your work "without compensation, notification, additional consent from you or from any third party."
Sony's lawyers have been overzealous here. It means that nobody should be applying for these jobs, as you can't show them your work for others and shouldn't show them your personal work.
Undoubtedly, someone will say it's just boilerplate. Sony would never exercise these rights, they're just trying to protect themselves. People sign what they have to in order to get work. But it remains a legal document unless it is successfully challenged in court, and that takes time and money.
Imagine this scenario. I may hire you, but before you apply, I say you have to sign an I.O.U. for $100,000. I have no intention of ever collecting. It's just a formality. But the fact remains that by applying to work for me, you've given me the right to collect $100,000 from you. Would you want that hanging over your head? Would you want to hire a lawyer and go to court if I decide to collect? Isn't it doubly absurd if I don't hire you and never pay you a nickel but still want the $100,000?
Sony needs to rewrite their terms of use.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
What's Wrong With This Picture?
That's Mark Andrews, the final director of Pixar's Brave. He is the recipient of the Global Scottish Thistle Award, for "those who have helped to put Scotland on the world stage." So far as I know, Andrews had nothing to do with setting the film in Scotland and Visit Scotland, the organization that gave him the award, seems to have no knowledge of Brenda Chapman, the film's original director.
Thursday, November 08, 2012
Is Hasbro Next?
The Beat is reporting that Disney is in talks with Hasbro, which currently holds the toy licenses for Star Wars and the Marvel characters as well as owning Toy Story's Mr. Potato Head. Here is a list of the other things that Hasbro owns or licenses. While this could be as simple as a renegotiation of toy licenses, given Robert Iger's history it may be an indication that Hasbro is Disney's next purchase.
Sunday, November 04, 2012
I Say, I Say...Son!
While many gaps in animation history have been filled in the last 40 years, gaps remain. That's why any new book that fills in some blanks is to be celebrated. While Warner Bros. cartoons and certain of the directors have been covered relatively well, Bob McKimson has been present only intermittently in writings about the studio. Part of the reason is that he died just as animation history was moving into high gear and partially because he never attracted the critical or fan attention that directors like Chuck Jones did.
This book (with excerpts available at the link), written by McKimson's son, Robert Jr, also covers McKimson's brothers Tom and Chuck, both of whom also contributed to Warner Bros. cartoons in the areas of character design and animation respectively.
While the book covers their entire careers, it doesn't go into as much depth as I would have liked. Given that the author was a relative, I wish there had been more about the brothers as people. I didn't get a good picture of their personalities or their relationship.
As well, the book isn't specific enough about some of the work. Chuck McKimson animated for Bob for several years in the post-war period, but no scenes are identified as his work and there is no discussion about how his animation differed, if at all, from his brother's. While the author is right to point out that Bob McKimson was the only Warner Bros. director who continued to animate on his cartoons, with the exception of The Hole Idea (animated entirely by the director due to the studio shutting down temporarily), there are no animation scenes identified from his years as a director.
There's also no discussion of the evolution of the McKimson brothers' art over time. It's clear from the illustrations that their styles changed over the years, and not always for the better. By the 1950's, there's a tightness to some of Bob McKimson's drawings that compare unfavourably to his work during the 1940s. In the '50s, he had a tendency to draw arms and legs on characters like Bugs Bunny with parallel lines, causing the character to flatten out considerably. The liveliness and energy that he gave to Bugs in earlier years seems to have dissipated.
The best parts of the book are the illustrations, which cover a range of fields: animation, comics, colouring books and publicity artwork. The McKimson brothers had a definite influence on the look of Warner Bros. cartoons, especially in the years before the end of World War II. Bob and Tom were major contributors to the Bob Clampett unit and Bob McKimson was arguably the main artistic influence on the look of Bugs Bunny, first for Tex Avery and later for Clampett. As a director, Bob McKimson is probably best known for Foghorn Leghorn and the Tasmanian Devil, who appeared in his cartoons exclusively.
The McKimson brothers are certainly worthy of a book and this one is a start. As it is the best currently available, it is worth having, but there's a lot more to be said about the brothers and I hope that this isn't the last we'll read of them.
This book (with excerpts available at the link), written by McKimson's son, Robert Jr, also covers McKimson's brothers Tom and Chuck, both of whom also contributed to Warner Bros. cartoons in the areas of character design and animation respectively.
While the book covers their entire careers, it doesn't go into as much depth as I would have liked. Given that the author was a relative, I wish there had been more about the brothers as people. I didn't get a good picture of their personalities or their relationship.
As well, the book isn't specific enough about some of the work. Chuck McKimson animated for Bob for several years in the post-war period, but no scenes are identified as his work and there is no discussion about how his animation differed, if at all, from his brother's. While the author is right to point out that Bob McKimson was the only Warner Bros. director who continued to animate on his cartoons, with the exception of The Hole Idea (animated entirely by the director due to the studio shutting down temporarily), there are no animation scenes identified from his years as a director.
There's also no discussion of the evolution of the McKimson brothers' art over time. It's clear from the illustrations that their styles changed over the years, and not always for the better. By the 1950's, there's a tightness to some of Bob McKimson's drawings that compare unfavourably to his work during the 1940s. In the '50s, he had a tendency to draw arms and legs on characters like Bugs Bunny with parallel lines, causing the character to flatten out considerably. The liveliness and energy that he gave to Bugs in earlier years seems to have dissipated.
The best parts of the book are the illustrations, which cover a range of fields: animation, comics, colouring books and publicity artwork. The McKimson brothers had a definite influence on the look of Warner Bros. cartoons, especially in the years before the end of World War II. Bob and Tom were major contributors to the Bob Clampett unit and Bob McKimson was arguably the main artistic influence on the look of Bugs Bunny, first for Tex Avery and later for Clampett. As a director, Bob McKimson is probably best known for Foghorn Leghorn and the Tasmanian Devil, who appeared in his cartoons exclusively.
The McKimson brothers are certainly worthy of a book and this one is a start. As it is the best currently available, it is worth having, but there's a lot more to be said about the brothers and I hope that this isn't the last we'll read of them.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Disney Buys Lucas
You can read the details everywhere, so I won't bother with them here.
I have no doubt that Wall Street and investors will see this as a good move, as all they are concerned about is money. However, I'm concerned with artists and Disney's trend is not artist friendly.
Why not? Well, if you happen to be somebody working in computer animation in the San Francisco bay area, there is now one less employer in the market. Pixar and ILM have been charged with collusion, cooperating to make sure that they didn't hire employees from each other. Now they're the same company and they can do what they like with hiring policies and pay scales. As neither studio is union, there is no floor to pay or benefits.
The problem goes beyond that, though. While Disney and Pixar continue to turn out some original films, Pixar has already been strong-armed into making sequels because Disney needs to pay off the purchase price. There will be many, many more Star Wars and Marvel films to pay off those purchases as well.
That takes money and oxygen away from original projects that potentially could become as big as Star Wars or the Marvel Universe. The company is clearly committed to milking existing intellectual property and acquiring more of it than creating new intellectual property. And so much of what Disney is buying is from the last century.
Robert Iger is clearly looking backwards more than forwards.
But don't forget that the Muppets started out as a small troop of puppeteers on local television, Marvel started out as a handful of creators working out of their homes, and George Lucas got turned down by everyone until Alan Ladd, Jr. took a chance (but didn't realize the value of sequel or merchandising rights or he would have kept them). What Robert Iger doesn't see is that great creations don't come from large companies, they come from people committed to their own ideas who work out of basements, garages, warehouses and other out of the way places. Sort of the way Walt Disney started. Remember him?
Which means that while Iger is busy grinding out Muppets, Marvels and Star Wars, the great creations of the 21st century will be happening elsewhere. Seek them out.
I have no doubt that Wall Street and investors will see this as a good move, as all they are concerned about is money. However, I'm concerned with artists and Disney's trend is not artist friendly.
Why not? Well, if you happen to be somebody working in computer animation in the San Francisco bay area, there is now one less employer in the market. Pixar and ILM have been charged with collusion, cooperating to make sure that they didn't hire employees from each other. Now they're the same company and they can do what they like with hiring policies and pay scales. As neither studio is union, there is no floor to pay or benefits.
The problem goes beyond that, though. While Disney and Pixar continue to turn out some original films, Pixar has already been strong-armed into making sequels because Disney needs to pay off the purchase price. There will be many, many more Star Wars and Marvel films to pay off those purchases as well.
That takes money and oxygen away from original projects that potentially could become as big as Star Wars or the Marvel Universe. The company is clearly committed to milking existing intellectual property and acquiring more of it than creating new intellectual property. And so much of what Disney is buying is from the last century.
Robert Iger is clearly looking backwards more than forwards.
But don't forget that the Muppets started out as a small troop of puppeteers on local television, Marvel started out as a handful of creators working out of their homes, and George Lucas got turned down by everyone until Alan Ladd, Jr. took a chance (but didn't realize the value of sequel or merchandising rights or he would have kept them). What Robert Iger doesn't see is that great creations don't come from large companies, they come from people committed to their own ideas who work out of basements, garages, warehouses and other out of the way places. Sort of the way Walt Disney started. Remember him?
Which means that while Iger is busy grinding out Muppets, Marvels and Star Wars, the great creations of the 21st century will be happening elsewhere. Seek them out.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Is That You, Popeye?
The above was created by artist Lee Romao. You can buy a 7 by 10 inch print of this for $15, as well as well as getting the image on canvas, stationary, or iPhone or iPad skins. Aren't you glad that Genndy Tartakovsky is making the next Popeye feature and not Spielberg or Zemeckis?
(link via Boing Boing)
(link via Boing Boing)
Monday, October 22, 2012
Marvel Comics: The Untold Story
Sean Howe's book Marvel Comics: The Untold Story could just as easily have been subtitled The Never Ending Story. It's never ending as Marvel's fictional characters die, are brought back, change their powers, get replaced, get cloned, make deals with the devil, but still go on and on. It's also never ending because the creators behind these characters leave in disgust, get fired, sue the company and sometimes die on the job.
This book is a warts-and-all telling of the people and business behind the creation of the Marvel universe, known for characters such as Spider-man, the Fantastic Four, Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk and the X-Men. While it is only tangentially related to animation, it shares the problems of work-for-hire and the callous way that corporations treat the very people who create the wealth.
For those who haven't followed the comics or the company, this book may be a maddening read, as the cast of fictional and real characters runs into the hundreds. The size of the cast prevents Howe from going into depth on more than a few people, mainly the owners, editors and to a lesser extent, writers. The artists, as usual, get short shrift. Anyone interested in learning more about artists John Buscema, Gene Colan and similar mainstays of the company will be disappointed. The artists are mostly bystanders while the dance of power and money goes on above their heads.
Martin Goodman was a publisher of pulp magazines, a now extinct breed of publications that focused on genre fiction with detectives, cowboys, aviators and similar action-oriented characters. They were named pulps for the cheap wood pulp paper they were printed on. After the success of Superman in Action Comics in the late 1930s, Goodman was convinced to add comic books to his list of publications. Within the first few years, he published The Human Torch (created by Carl Burgos), The Sub-Mariner (created by Bill Everett) and Captain America (created by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby). He hired his wife's cousin, 17 year old Stanley Leiber to work in the comics division and in 1941 when editor Joe Simon left (with Kirby) after Goodman screwed them out of Captain America royalties, Leiber writing under the pseudonym Stan Lee inherited the post of comics editor.
With the exception of his stint in the military during World War II, Lee continued running the division and created nothing of value until 1961. At that point, partnered with Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, newly successful characters appeared for about a decade. However, both Ditko and Kirby walked away from Lee and Marvel, angry over their lack of control and compensation. Once that happened, Lee spent the next 40 years promoting Marvel and himself but failed to create anything similarly successful. His greatest accomplishment was keeping himself front and center as the ownership changed repeatedly, garnering millions for himself while not lifting a finger as President and Publisher of Marvel to compensate the artists beyond paying them by the page. He even colluded with his competitor, DC Comics, to make sure that freelancers couldn't play the two companies off each other for higher pay.
It's fitting that Disney now owns Marvel as the companies have similarities in their histories. The business people who have taken over both companies after their founders have earned far more than the creative people who built the company in the first place. Eric Ellenbogan, a Marvel executive who lasted just seven months, walked away with a $2.5 million severance package, more money than Jack Kirby made from Marvel in his entire career. That's hardly different than the $140 million in severance that Michael Ovitz walked away from Disney with, more money than all nine old men made over 40 years. John Lasseter is rapidly becoming another Stan Lee, agreeing to corporate moves he formerly disdained (like sequels) and becoming a kibitzer of other people's work rather than remaining a creator himself. For both companies, the '90s were an anomaly where artists actually shared in the money their work generated. Marvel went bankrupt and Disney abandoned drawn animation and the artists who created it. In both cases, the good times didn't last.
The book contains just two illustrations: an ad for the first issue of Marvel Comics and a photograph of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in 1965. Undoubtedly, the publisher didn't want to deal with Disney's well-known reluctance to grant the rights to images it owns (see the delay in Amid Amidi's biography of Ward Kimball). However, Howe has a tumblr blog which includes many illustrations and documents that should have appeared. Somehow print attracts the copyright cops while the web escapes unscathed, more proof that the copyright laws are dysfunctional in the digital age.
Anyone who aspires to work for a leading comics or animation company and thinks they'll be entering a magic kingdom where creativity reigns supreme and the fun never stops should read this book. Large media corporations share many of Marvel's problems. Artists are routinely taken advantage of, and the more artists realize this on the way in, the less likely they are to be disappointed.
This book is a warts-and-all telling of the people and business behind the creation of the Marvel universe, known for characters such as Spider-man, the Fantastic Four, Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk and the X-Men. While it is only tangentially related to animation, it shares the problems of work-for-hire and the callous way that corporations treat the very people who create the wealth.
For those who haven't followed the comics or the company, this book may be a maddening read, as the cast of fictional and real characters runs into the hundreds. The size of the cast prevents Howe from going into depth on more than a few people, mainly the owners, editors and to a lesser extent, writers. The artists, as usual, get short shrift. Anyone interested in learning more about artists John Buscema, Gene Colan and similar mainstays of the company will be disappointed. The artists are mostly bystanders while the dance of power and money goes on above their heads.
Martin Goodman was a publisher of pulp magazines, a now extinct breed of publications that focused on genre fiction with detectives, cowboys, aviators and similar action-oriented characters. They were named pulps for the cheap wood pulp paper they were printed on. After the success of Superman in Action Comics in the late 1930s, Goodman was convinced to add comic books to his list of publications. Within the first few years, he published The Human Torch (created by Carl Burgos), The Sub-Mariner (created by Bill Everett) and Captain America (created by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby). He hired his wife's cousin, 17 year old Stanley Leiber to work in the comics division and in 1941 when editor Joe Simon left (with Kirby) after Goodman screwed them out of Captain America royalties, Leiber writing under the pseudonym Stan Lee inherited the post of comics editor.
With the exception of his stint in the military during World War II, Lee continued running the division and created nothing of value until 1961. At that point, partnered with Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, newly successful characters appeared for about a decade. However, both Ditko and Kirby walked away from Lee and Marvel, angry over their lack of control and compensation. Once that happened, Lee spent the next 40 years promoting Marvel and himself but failed to create anything similarly successful. His greatest accomplishment was keeping himself front and center as the ownership changed repeatedly, garnering millions for himself while not lifting a finger as President and Publisher of Marvel to compensate the artists beyond paying them by the page. He even colluded with his competitor, DC Comics, to make sure that freelancers couldn't play the two companies off each other for higher pay.
It's fitting that Disney now owns Marvel as the companies have similarities in their histories. The business people who have taken over both companies after their founders have earned far more than the creative people who built the company in the first place. Eric Ellenbogan, a Marvel executive who lasted just seven months, walked away with a $2.5 million severance package, more money than Jack Kirby made from Marvel in his entire career. That's hardly different than the $140 million in severance that Michael Ovitz walked away from Disney with, more money than all nine old men made over 40 years. John Lasseter is rapidly becoming another Stan Lee, agreeing to corporate moves he formerly disdained (like sequels) and becoming a kibitzer of other people's work rather than remaining a creator himself. For both companies, the '90s were an anomaly where artists actually shared in the money their work generated. Marvel went bankrupt and Disney abandoned drawn animation and the artists who created it. In both cases, the good times didn't last.
The book contains just two illustrations: an ad for the first issue of Marvel Comics and a photograph of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in 1965. Undoubtedly, the publisher didn't want to deal with Disney's well-known reluctance to grant the rights to images it owns (see the delay in Amid Amidi's biography of Ward Kimball). However, Howe has a tumblr blog which includes many illustrations and documents that should have appeared. Somehow print attracts the copyright cops while the web escapes unscathed, more proof that the copyright laws are dysfunctional in the digital age.
Anyone who aspires to work for a leading comics or animation company and thinks they'll be entering a magic kingdom where creativity reigns supreme and the fun never stops should read this book. Large media corporations share many of Marvel's problems. Artists are routinely taken advantage of, and the more artists realize this on the way in, the less likely they are to be disappointed.
The Rabbi's Cat
LCHDR by azmovies
This film screened in Toronto, presented by the Toronto Jewish Film Festival and The Beguiling.
The film is based on a series of comics by Joann Sfar. Set in Algiers, where Sfar's own family once resided, it has a large cast of distinctive characters. The widowed Rabbi has a daughter with her own circle of friends. A cousin who travels with a lion pays a visit. The rabbi is friends with a Muslim cleric with the same last name. A Russian artist, a White Russian, an African waitress, the rabbi's mentor and his student are other well-developed supporting characters.
While not revealing too much of the plot, several of the characters go on a meandering road trip searching for a utopia that turns out to be a false one. The irony is that the searchers are an ad hoc society closer to utopia than the place they are seeking, in that they are of varying religions, nationalities, races and species and get along, using words and art as their means of communication, not weapons.
The design work in the film is stronger than the animation. There are several backgrounds that are frame-worthy. The characters are rich and a pleasure to spend time with as they discuss life, philosophy and more mundane subjects. However, the film lacks structure and narrative drive, as do Sfar's original comics. The film evokes directors like Renoir and McCarey in its focus on people living and its rejection of melodrama.
I have to say that France is producing some of the more interesting animated features I've seen in the last several years. When I attended a presentation by Gobelins, they mentioned that France releases about ten animated features a year. While I'm sure that some of them are aimed squarely at children, it also includes films like Persepolis, Le Tableau and The Rabbi's Cat, which can be enjoyed by children, but speak to more adult concerns. The last two are being distributed by GKIDS and will be screened in November in Los Angeles in order to be submitted for the Oscars.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Funny Feet: The Art of Eccentric Dance
I've always loved dance animation. Whether it is Mickey in Thru the Mirror or Donald in Mr. Duck Steps Out or the dancing in Rooty Toot Toot, when expressive movement joins with music, you get an energy that leaves ordinary animation in the dust. Dick Lundy, Les Clark, Ken Harris, Preston Blair, Ward Kimball, and Pat Matthews are just some of the animators with a genuine flair for dance.
Animated dance built on what was happening in live action films, and that was built on what had been done in Vaudeville and the English music hall. Chaplin, Keaton, Stan Laurel, Groucho Marx, and James Cagney all used dance in their stage performances. Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Ray Bolger, Buddy Ebsen, and the Nicholas Brothers were all influenced by the same tradition.
Betsy Baytos has worked as an animator and dancer and is making a documentary called Funny Feet: The Art of Eccentric Dance. Her promo is below:
She's using Kickstarter to fund a trip to England to research music hall performers who fall into the eccentric dance category.
In addition to interviewing performers for the last 20 years, she has also interviewed artists Chuck Jones, Frank Thomas & Ollie Johnston, Ward Kimball, Myron Waldman (Betty Boop/Popeye) , Joe Barbera, Joe Grant and Al Hirschfeld (NY Times caricaturist).
Here's a clip from a Buster Keaton two reeler for Columbia. Keaton and Columbia were not a good fit. The studio was much more at home with the lowbrow knockabout of The Three Stooges than it was with Keaton's deadpan irony. Elsie James, the woman in this clip, is a pretty crude performer with a tendency to mug. However, I'm including this clip because after the three minute mark, there's about 20 seconds of sublime dance by Keaton, where he transcends Columbia's limited view of comedy.
I'm excited about the subject matter of Baytos's documentary and looking forward to seeing it. Read more about it on her Kickstarter page.
Animated dance built on what was happening in live action films, and that was built on what had been done in Vaudeville and the English music hall. Chaplin, Keaton, Stan Laurel, Groucho Marx, and James Cagney all used dance in their stage performances. Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Ray Bolger, Buddy Ebsen, and the Nicholas Brothers were all influenced by the same tradition.
Betsy Baytos has worked as an animator and dancer and is making a documentary called Funny Feet: The Art of Eccentric Dance. Her promo is below:
She's using Kickstarter to fund a trip to England to research music hall performers who fall into the eccentric dance category.
In addition to interviewing performers for the last 20 years, she has also interviewed artists Chuck Jones, Frank Thomas & Ollie Johnston, Ward Kimball, Myron Waldman (Betty Boop/Popeye) , Joe Barbera, Joe Grant and Al Hirschfeld (NY Times caricaturist).
Here's a clip from a Buster Keaton two reeler for Columbia. Keaton and Columbia were not a good fit. The studio was much more at home with the lowbrow knockabout of The Three Stooges than it was with Keaton's deadpan irony. Elsie James, the woman in this clip, is a pretty crude performer with a tendency to mug. However, I'm including this clip because after the three minute mark, there's about 20 seconds of sublime dance by Keaton, where he transcends Columbia's limited view of comedy.
I'm excited about the subject matter of Baytos's documentary and looking forward to seeing it. Read more about it on her Kickstarter page.
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