In August, Pete Williams, the creator of the MTV and Teletoon series Undergrads, gave a fabulous talk at Animatic T.O. relating the history of creating the show and getting it on the air. It was a warts-and-all presentation, where Williams was forthcoming about the mistakes he made.
He has a lot to teach anyone interested in selling a TV series. Until you've done it, you don't really know all the pitfalls and gotchas, so take advantage of the his experience and watch the presentation.
Showing posts with label TV animation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV animation. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 02, 2015
Sunday, July 26, 2015
The Legend of Korra
(Spoilers below.)
Having watched and admired Avatar: The Last Airbender, I have now watched all of its semi-sequel, The Legend of Korra. While there are aspects of Korra that are superior to Avatar, I don't think the series reaches the same high level, and I think that the reason has to do with the nature of television.
As I understand it, when Avatar was given the green light for production, the commitment was for three seasons right from the start. Because of this, the creators Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko were able to know how long they had to tell their story and how they could develop their characters over time. It resulted in a show I referred to a novelistic.
To the best of my knowledge, Korra's initial commitment was only for a single season. As a result, the show suffers from a common TV ailment. Stories and character arcs can only be developed one season at a time, as nobody knows how many shows will eventually be produced.
In Korra's case, this led to disjointed stories and character arcs compared to Avatar. The first season was underdeveloped. The villain, Amon, was the head of a social movement built around resentment of those with bending powers. Except for an early robbery attempt broken up by Korra, there were no other events that would explain why the general population resented benders. When Amon was revealed to be a bender himself, public opinion immediately shifted against him, but if there was anger against benders, why would the population now side with Korra and her friends?
There was an attempt to tie the second, third and fourth seasons together. In season two, Korra's uncle Unalaq attempted to free and merge with an evil spirit Vaatu and bring about 10,000 years of darkness. In season three, the villain Zaheer revealed that Unalaq was a renegade member of a group called The Red Lotus. In season four, the defeat of Zaheer led to the rise of a military dictator, Kuvira. Unfortunately, these attempts at continuity were band-aids. Each season there was just another villain bent on destroying Korra. In this way, each season's arc devolved into formula.
This is a common problem with TV series due to the nature of renewing for single seasons. Boardwalk Empire suffered from the same problem, where there had to be a new threat to the main characters for each set of episodes. This limitation is a major drawback to coherent storytelling and is something that Avatar miraculously avoided. Has there been another series with continuing characters that got a multi-season commitment before going on the air?
Formula also worked it's way into other parts of Korra. Team Avatar was again four characters, two male and two female, with one of the males as comic relief. The brother and sister Desna and Eska seem based on the deadpan Mai in Avatar. This season by season development also led to questionable character appearances. Zuko, a character from Avatar, appeared in season three as he was concerned about the threat posed by Zaheer, but he was absent from season two, which was an equal threat to Korra and a larger threat to the world. While it was nice to see the character return, he didn't have much to do and his appearance was ill-timed relative to the levels of danger Korra faced.
The large cast caused several characters to remain undeveloped. Suyin Beifong had a large family, and while she was given enough screen time to become a rounded character, her husband and children were not for the most part. While Tenzin and his children were well developed, his wife Pema was not. Kai was heavily featured for awhile and then seemed to vanish into the crowd.
On the plus side, the production values were higher than the Avatar series. There was more 3D animation brought in for vehicles and machines. The fight scenes were better choreographed and animated. The climax to season four was as elaborate as anything I've seen done for television animation. In Avatar, there was the tendency to pop character's faces into extreme takes. I don't object to the takes, but felt that they were clumsily animated and were jarring as a result. The facial animation in Korra avoided the extreme expressions, though once again television budgets resulted in lots of limited animation in acting scenes.
The reunion and reconcilation of the Beifong family was nicely done. Toph Beifong was brought back from Avatar and given enough screen time to be as vivid as she was in the earlier series. Her relationship with her daughters and their sibling rivalry was one of the more satisfying parts of the series.
Season four seemed to be about reconciliation and redemption. Asami's father was brought back to redeem himself. Even the villains Zaheer and Kuvira were shown to be misguided rather than just evil. Bolin, Varrick, Zhu Li, Prince Wu and Bataar, Jr. are all brought firmly into the good guy camp regardless of their earlier actions.
Like Avatar, Korra will continue in graphic novels. It's interesting, though, that the series creators will be stepping out of animation, at least for a while. Working on an animated TV series is exhausting and I can imagine how much more exhausting work on Avatar and Korra must have been due to the ambitiousness of the shows. DiMartino will be writing novels and Konietzko will be creating a graphic novel. Based on their animation work, I look forward to what they do next.
While I've listed areas where I thought Korra had weaknesses, it's still an immense achievement. Falling a little short of Avatar: The Last Airbender is nothing to be ashamed of, and in some ways it exceeded the earlier series. While I'd pretty much given up on TV animation as a place for quality storytelling, DiMartino and Konietzko managed to beat the system. I congratulate them on that and hope that broadcasters are smart enough to learn from their success.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Yes, I know. I'm 10 years late.
I backed into this series due to my interest in the work of comics writer/artist Gene Luen Yang. Having read his books American Born Chinese, The Eternal Smile and Boxers/Saints, I discovered that he had written several graphic novels based on the Avatar TV series. I read them and was extremely impressed with the political sophistication of the stories. The Promise has to do with two ethnic groups both laying claim to the same land. Anyone who follows the news can easily see the resemblance to the middle east or Ukraine. The Rift has to do with the tension between technological progress and ecological preservation. Like life, these books don't present easy answers, showing that there are valid claims on all sides.
I should also mention the art by the Japanese team known as Gurihiru, which is very attractive.
So, knowing nothing of the backstory of the animated series but being impressed, I wrote Yang and asked where the stories came from. Did he originate them? He replied to me that they were written in collaboration with the series' creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino.
Hearing this, I wondered if the series reached the same standard that the graphic novels had, so I've now watched all 61 episodes. I am very, very impressed.
Briefly, the series is set in an Asian world where there are four tribes based on the elements of fire, water, earth and air. In these tribes, there are some who can manipulate their namesake element. In essence, they're superheroes, though free from the cliches that have encrusted themselves around superheroes. The fire nation has attempted to conquer the rest of the world and the Avatar, who is the only one to master bending all four elements, works to end the war and restore a balance in the world.
I can no longer claim to be an expert on animated TV series. I haven't watched a lot in the last 15 years. However, in my experience, I've never seen a series like Avatar. When I was working in production, there was a strong resistance from broadcasters for continuity between episodes. They wanted the ability to run them in any order without causing audience confusion. I'm amazed that Nickelodeon agreed to letting a story play out in continuity over several seasons.
The result is a story that is novelistic. Characters come and go and their histories are filled in bit by bit. They have time to truly develop based on their experiences, so they grow organically. Just about every character gets screen time to become fully rounded. In too many children's TV shows, there are a handful of personality traits assigned to a character that they never move beyond, but in Avatar, characters reflect on their pasts as they try to figure out how they should move forward. The characters are driven by their emotional needs, not simply manipulated for the benefit of the plot.
In addition to well-developed characters, there are themes here that are also rare for children's TV: war, genocide, racism, fascism, brainwashing, reincarnation, mysticism, loss of loved ones, and family relations that run the gamut from nourishing to dysfunctional.
The fights and action scenes remind me a lot of Jack Kirby's work at Marvel in the 1960's. While there are explosions, collapsing buildings and characters thrown through the air who slam into objects, there are no broken bones and practically no blood. I was surprised to find myself caught up in what would happen to the characters. With so much formula storytelling on TV, for adults and children, that was a novelty for me.
I would love to know how the creators managed to get this series approved. Did they reference The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter in order to show that children would accept material this dense and downbeat? (There is a lot of comedy in the show, but a story built around a hundred year war is hardly a giggle fest.) I consider it something of a miracle that this show ever got produced, as it breaks so many of the accepted norms of children's TV, which tends to be relentlessly shallow and cheerful.
It isn't perfect, but TV animation never is. The animation itself, done in Korea, suffers from the compromises of TV budgets, with animation on 3's, 4's and 6's. There's a six-legged bison character they never did get a believable walk cycle for. There are lots of held cels with only parts of characters moving. However, there are fight scenes and action scenes that are elaborately choreographed. The facial expressions are sometimes pushed too far based on the rest of the design approach, but even with the limited animation, the characters genuinely act.
There are some episodes that feel like padding, included to fulfill a 20 episode season. However, there are interesting episodes that break expected patterns. "Tales of Ba Sing Se" features vignettes of each of the leading characters, allowing them time to develop outside the overarching plot. "The Ember Island Players" is meta-textual, where the characters watch a play based on their own adventures in earlier episodes and reflect on how they're being portrayed.
I know that the creators followed this series with The Legend of Korra and I'll now work my way through that. Yang and Gurihiru have another Avatar graphic novel coming out in September called Smoke and Shadow. Their novels are broken into three parts and come out at three month intervals. This week, Yang's first written issue of Superman is in comics shops.
I am surprised and encouraged that material this good has made it into TV animation. I might be the last person to discover this show, but if I'm not, I highly recommend it. It's been a long time since I've felt this good about an animated TV series.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Canadian TV is Dying. Does Animation Know it?
Over the last year, Rogers and Shaw, the two largest cable TV suppliers in Canada, have lost a total of 200,000 subscribers. That has enormous repercussions for TV producers, including animation studios.
YTV is one of the major outlets for Canadian TV animation. It is part of the basic cable package, which means that everyone who has cable TV in Canada automatically receives YTV. YTV receives money for each cable TV subscriber, and it has lost the fee from 200,000 people in the last year. In addition, it earns money from advertising and its ratings must have suffered by some amount, as some of those 200,000 people must have watched YTV.
Teletoon is part of a cable bundle, but surely some of those 200,000 people were paying for Teletoon. As Teletoon also sells advertising, the smaller audience has cost Teletoon income on two fronts.
The cable companies are rapidly diversifying away from TV. Rogers and Shaw have partnered in Shomi, a Netflix-like service that makes content available on demand. Rogers has now partnered with Vice, which will produce content for them. The money quote that justifies the deal is that there is a “dramatic shift in Canada’s media landscape which sees young people increasingly consuming news and entertainment from their mobile and digital devices.”
Bell Media is creating its own streaming service.
What are the repercussions for Canadian animation? It means that broadcasters such as YTV, Teletoon, and Family Channel will have less money to spend on new programming. Either they will buy less or buy the same amount but provide less money for each. Either way, the TV market for Canadian animation is going to get tougher. The future is online and the cable companies know it. The animation studios that grasp this are the ones most likely to survive.
YTV is one of the major outlets for Canadian TV animation. It is part of the basic cable package, which means that everyone who has cable TV in Canada automatically receives YTV. YTV receives money for each cable TV subscriber, and it has lost the fee from 200,000 people in the last year. In addition, it earns money from advertising and its ratings must have suffered by some amount, as some of those 200,000 people must have watched YTV.
Teletoon is part of a cable bundle, but surely some of those 200,000 people were paying for Teletoon. As Teletoon also sells advertising, the smaller audience has cost Teletoon income on two fronts.
The cable companies are rapidly diversifying away from TV. Rogers and Shaw have partnered in Shomi, a Netflix-like service that makes content available on demand. Rogers has now partnered with Vice, which will produce content for them. The money quote that justifies the deal is that there is a “dramatic shift in Canada’s media landscape which sees young people increasingly consuming news and entertainment from their mobile and digital devices.”
Bell Media is creating its own streaming service.
What are the repercussions for Canadian animation? It means that broadcasters such as YTV, Teletoon, and Family Channel will have less money to spend on new programming. Either they will buy less or buy the same amount but provide less money for each. Either way, the TV market for Canadian animation is going to get tougher. The future is online and the cable companies know it. The animation studios that grasp this are the ones most likely to survive.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Is Canadian TV Animation Heading for a Cliff?
The TV animation business in Canada is on a roll right now. There's a lot of work out there, as a glance at the job board at Canadian Animation Resources confirms. While animation in Canada includes visual effects, features and videogames, TV still makes up the greatest proportion of production in terms of employment and the amount of material produced.
However, there are trends in several areas that make TV animation vulnerable. The ground is already shifting and there are more shifts to come.
Television in Canada is regulated by the Canadian Radio and Television Commission. This government body determines which new channels will be allowed to exist, sets quotas for Canadian content and determines how much money from cable fees will be set aside for Canadian production.
The CRTC is aware of the effect that the internet and internet TV providers such as Netflix are having on the market and have been holding hearings to determine how regulations should change. There are several possibilities being considered. One is unbundling.
The CRTC has declared that certain channels such as YTV, a major Canadian animation market, are part of the basic cable package. In other words, everyone who has cable is forced to pay money towards YTV. Other channels featuring animation, such as Teletoon and Family Channel, are part of packages. You cannot buy these channels on their own. There are customers who don't care at all about animation who are contributing money towards these channels by purchasing the package they're included in.
Should the CRTC unbundle, allowing viewers to purchase only those channels they want, no one can predict how this might effect the demand for animation channels. The number of cable channels using animation has expanded to include Nickelodeon, Teletoon Retro, Cartoon Network Canada, Disney XD, Disney Junior and Treehouse. Can the Canadian market support all of these channels in an a la carte world? Can studios survive if the number of Canadian buyers goes down?
There is an entire generation that has replaced TV with the internet. The term "cord cutting" is used to describe people who give up cable TV, but there are many young adults who haven't had cable TV since leaving their parents' homes. Walking in Toronto, I see children in strollers playing with iPads. In a world of on-demand entertainment, does the concept of a broadcast schedule have a hope of surviving?
The shrinking audience is affecting even mainstream programming. W5, a 60 Minutes-like news show has just cut production on the number of episodes for the coming season and laid off staff due to shrinking ad revenues.
Many in Canada subscribe to Netflix instead of cable. No money spent on Netflix is re-routed towards Canadian production as it is with cable bills. This means that the Canada Media Fund, which funnels money towards various productions, has less to work with.
Finally, there is the issue of tax credits. Ontario just had a provincial election, so the government will be stable for the next four years, but it is trying to eliminate a deficit. No poll of the general public has ever put tax credits for media production high on the list of priorities. As a result, I would not be surprised to see the tax credits frozen at best and I anticipate some amount of claw back. Certainly, they won't increase, which means that if another jurisdiction surpasses Ontario's tax credits, work will leave Ontario.
While content quotas, bundling and tax credits have their place, especially for new enterprises, they turn into an addiction. Ultimately, animation has to please the public if it is to survive. Instead, too many studios have focused on satisfying regulations that generate money rather than on creating viable entertainment. I fear that they have built their enterprises on a foundation of sand. I have seen contractions in the Canadian animation industry in the past and they're not pretty. I hope that studios are preparing for changes that may destroy their current business model.
To learn more about this, read Michael Geist and listen to this Canadaland podcast.
However, there are trends in several areas that make TV animation vulnerable. The ground is already shifting and there are more shifts to come.
Television in Canada is regulated by the Canadian Radio and Television Commission. This government body determines which new channels will be allowed to exist, sets quotas for Canadian content and determines how much money from cable fees will be set aside for Canadian production.
The CRTC is aware of the effect that the internet and internet TV providers such as Netflix are having on the market and have been holding hearings to determine how regulations should change. There are several possibilities being considered. One is unbundling.
The CRTC has declared that certain channels such as YTV, a major Canadian animation market, are part of the basic cable package. In other words, everyone who has cable is forced to pay money towards YTV. Other channels featuring animation, such as Teletoon and Family Channel, are part of packages. You cannot buy these channels on their own. There are customers who don't care at all about animation who are contributing money towards these channels by purchasing the package they're included in.
Should the CRTC unbundle, allowing viewers to purchase only those channels they want, no one can predict how this might effect the demand for animation channels. The number of cable channels using animation has expanded to include Nickelodeon, Teletoon Retro, Cartoon Network Canada, Disney XD, Disney Junior and Treehouse. Can the Canadian market support all of these channels in an a la carte world? Can studios survive if the number of Canadian buyers goes down?
There is an entire generation that has replaced TV with the internet. The term "cord cutting" is used to describe people who give up cable TV, but there are many young adults who haven't had cable TV since leaving their parents' homes. Walking in Toronto, I see children in strollers playing with iPads. In a world of on-demand entertainment, does the concept of a broadcast schedule have a hope of surviving?
The shrinking audience is affecting even mainstream programming. W5, a 60 Minutes-like news show has just cut production on the number of episodes for the coming season and laid off staff due to shrinking ad revenues.
Many in Canada subscribe to Netflix instead of cable. No money spent on Netflix is re-routed towards Canadian production as it is with cable bills. This means that the Canada Media Fund, which funnels money towards various productions, has less to work with.
Finally, there is the issue of tax credits. Ontario just had a provincial election, so the government will be stable for the next four years, but it is trying to eliminate a deficit. No poll of the general public has ever put tax credits for media production high on the list of priorities. As a result, I would not be surprised to see the tax credits frozen at best and I anticipate some amount of claw back. Certainly, they won't increase, which means that if another jurisdiction surpasses Ontario's tax credits, work will leave Ontario.
While content quotas, bundling and tax credits have their place, especially for new enterprises, they turn into an addiction. Ultimately, animation has to please the public if it is to survive. Instead, too many studios have focused on satisfying regulations that generate money rather than on creating viable entertainment. I fear that they have built their enterprises on a foundation of sand. I have seen contractions in the Canadian animation industry in the past and they're not pretty. I hope that studios are preparing for changes that may destroy their current business model.
To learn more about this, read Michael Geist and listen to this Canadaland podcast.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Book Review: Genius Animated: The Cartoon Art of Alex Toth
This is the third volume by Dean Mullaney and Bruce Canwell chronicalling the life and career of Alex Toth. Toth spent the bulk of his career illustrating comic books but spent a significant portion of his life designing animation for TV.
The earlier two volumes focused on Toth's work in comics and included a fair amount of biographical material from Toth's co-workers and family. This volume is entirely about his work in animation, though the text is sparse and frankly not very valuable. The interviewees, including Mike Kazaleh and Robert Alvarez, never worked with Toth. The bulk of the book are designs, model sheets and presentation art that Toth created for TV cartoons.
Toth was a master of composition and design. His cropping is unusual and he constantly tried to strip down his drawings to their essentials. His use of blacks, patterns and textures went far beyond what most other artists in comics or animation concerned themselves with. His influences included Noel Sickles, Milt Caniff, and Jesse Marsh.
His initial foray into animation was Space Angel, and in many ways it
sums up the issues surrounding Toth's animation design. Toth's drawings
for the show are excellent, but the drawings don't move. The lip synch
was done by photographic real mouths and superimposing them on the
drawings. While the graphics are very sophisticated, the motion is
primitive.
While Toth simplified his work for later animated shows he designed for Hanna Barbera, there was always a considerable gap between the quality of the designs and the style of motion. Joe Barbera used Toth's work in his sales pitches to networks, but it was all smoke and mirrors and everyone agreed to ignore the truth. The artists at Hanna-Barbera couldn't draw as well as Toth and there was never a hope that there would be a consistency between the style of drawing and the style of motion. The network executives knew that the shows would never look as good as Toth's presentation art, but the limited profits for Saturday morning cartoons were not enough to cause them to bother about it.
While Toth groused about the quality of the comic book scripts he was given, they were far better than the animation that resulted from his work. People forget how truly terrible TV animation was in the 1960s and '70s. Toth designed the first TV version of Marvel's Fantastic Four. Take a look at how poor the show's opening credits are.
There are people who are nostalgic for shows Toth designed like Space Ghost or The Herculoids. Toth may have improved the quality of the designs, but the shows never rose to the level of his work.
There are a lot of great drawings in this book. All three volumes are valuable for showing Toth's evolution as an artist and demonstrating what's possible in visual storytelling. The third volume leaves an important question unanswered, though. Are Toth's drawings, as good as they are, appropriate designs for animation at all? Given the realities of the marketplace, are the designs functional? Perhaps Bruce Timm and company came closest to answering the question, but even their shows feel compromised in terms of motion to me.
Many have commented that Toth is an artist without a monument. He has no work universally acknowledged as great or remembered by the audience. That's the tragedy of his career, but it doesn't negate the quality of his drawings or design. Every Toth drawing is an education, and that alone makes this book, and the preceding volumes, worth having.
The earlier two volumes focused on Toth's work in comics and included a fair amount of biographical material from Toth's co-workers and family. This volume is entirely about his work in animation, though the text is sparse and frankly not very valuable. The interviewees, including Mike Kazaleh and Robert Alvarez, never worked with Toth. The bulk of the book are designs, model sheets and presentation art that Toth created for TV cartoons.
Toth was a master of composition and design. His cropping is unusual and he constantly tried to strip down his drawings to their essentials. His use of blacks, patterns and textures went far beyond what most other artists in comics or animation concerned themselves with. His influences included Noel Sickles, Milt Caniff, and Jesse Marsh.
While Toth simplified his work for later animated shows he designed for Hanna Barbera, there was always a considerable gap between the quality of the designs and the style of motion. Joe Barbera used Toth's work in his sales pitches to networks, but it was all smoke and mirrors and everyone agreed to ignore the truth. The artists at Hanna-Barbera couldn't draw as well as Toth and there was never a hope that there would be a consistency between the style of drawing and the style of motion. The network executives knew that the shows would never look as good as Toth's presentation art, but the limited profits for Saturday morning cartoons were not enough to cause them to bother about it.
While Toth groused about the quality of the comic book scripts he was given, they were far better than the animation that resulted from his work. People forget how truly terrible TV animation was in the 1960s and '70s. Toth designed the first TV version of Marvel's Fantastic Four. Take a look at how poor the show's opening credits are.
There are people who are nostalgic for shows Toth designed like Space Ghost or The Herculoids. Toth may have improved the quality of the designs, but the shows never rose to the level of his work.
There are a lot of great drawings in this book. All three volumes are valuable for showing Toth's evolution as an artist and demonstrating what's possible in visual storytelling. The third volume leaves an important question unanswered, though. Are Toth's drawings, as good as they are, appropriate designs for animation at all? Given the realities of the marketplace, are the designs functional? Perhaps Bruce Timm and company came closest to answering the question, but even their shows feel compromised in terms of motion to me.
Many have commented that Toth is an artist without a monument. He has no work universally acknowledged as great or remembered by the audience. That's the tragedy of his career, but it doesn't negate the quality of his drawings or design. Every Toth drawing is an education, and that alone makes this book, and the preceding volumes, worth having.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Sick Little Monkeys
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.
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.
Monday, August 20, 2012
DHX Buys Cookie Jar
Update: Canadian Animation Resources has links to stories with more information.
This may only be of interest to those working in the Canadian animated TV field, but DHX has bought Cookie Jar. While consolidation makes it easier for the two studios to compete internationally, it also makes it harder for independent producers to get their work on Canadian TV.
Michael Hirsh, CEO of Cookie Jar, was one of the founders of Nelvana. Cookie Jar rose out of the ashes of Cinar, a Montreal company that was plagued by scandals over fraud with regard to government tax credits and suffered from the untimely death of co-owner Micheline Charest. Hirsh reorganized Cinar into Cookie Jar and bought DIC in 2008. There was speculation from the beginning that he intended to take the company public. While that hasn't happened, there's still a large payday for Cookie Jar's owners.
DHX is the result of the 2006 merger of Decode and the Halifax Film Company. The merged entity later went on to purchase Vancouver's Studio B in 2007.
Whether this means that Michael Hirsh is retiring or will take a position with DHX is unknown at this time.
This may only be of interest to those working in the Canadian animated TV field, but DHX has bought Cookie Jar. While consolidation makes it easier for the two studios to compete internationally, it also makes it harder for independent producers to get their work on Canadian TV.
Michael Hirsh, CEO of Cookie Jar, was one of the founders of Nelvana. Cookie Jar rose out of the ashes of Cinar, a Montreal company that was plagued by scandals over fraud with regard to government tax credits and suffered from the untimely death of co-owner Micheline Charest. Hirsh reorganized Cinar into Cookie Jar and bought DIC in 2008. There was speculation from the beginning that he intended to take the company public. While that hasn't happened, there's still a large payday for Cookie Jar's owners.
DHX is the result of the 2006 merger of Decode and the Halifax Film Company. The merged entity later went on to purchase Vancouver's Studio B in 2007.
Whether this means that Michael Hirsh is retiring or will take a position with DHX is unknown at this time.
Monday, August 13, 2012
The Continuing Evolution of TV Economics
348,000 people in the U.S. cancelled their cable in three months time. Why? This article suggests that the use of OTT (which stands for over-the-top) boxes, used to access Netflix and Hulu, are responsible for the drop.
To date, the majority of what's available on Netflix and Hulu is pre-existing material. In other words, the production of this content was paid for under the existing TV model, where broadcasters pay a license fee and producers sell to multiple markets in order to finance their shows.
But if the number of cable subscribers continues to drop, subscription fees and advertising revenues will also drop, making it even more difficult to finance original programming.
TV's evolution from a business standpoint has been very interesting. Initially, when there were limited choices over the air, every program got a substantial audience. A show didn't have to be the best, it only had to be the best in it's time slot, and the competition was less than half a dozen shows. Everything had a sizable audience, which meant that everything was able to attract solid advertising revenue.
Then came cable and the 500 channel universe. With more choice, viewership for individual shows fell. That meant less advertising revenue and budgets were reduced as a result. That's where reality programming came from, whether it was Survivor or the Home and Garden channel. Cheap programming became the standard instead of the exception.
Now, with OTT, the ground has shifted again. In a 500 channel universe, competition was still somewhat limited. A show was still competing against everything on in the same time slot, there were just a lot more shows. OTT is built on the idea of on-demand programming, which means that a show is now competing against everything on at the moment and everything in the libraries of OTT service. And if people continue to dump cable, then newer shows are cut off from that revenue stream.
The trend has been towards a continuing fragmenting of the audience into smaller and smaller chunks for each show. We could theoretically reach a point where a show is competing against every show ever made as well as every movie ever made.
As the audience for each show gets smaller, how do you finance a show? Lower budgets are not the answer if you're competing against past product made with good budgets. This is especially true for animation, as older shows date less badly than live action and children are less sensitive to when a show was made anyway.
I'm very glad that I'm not depending on the TV market for my livelihood anymore, and I wonder how aggressive TV animation studios are at finding new revenue streams. Budgets have been shrinking for years and will continue to shrink. Even The Simpsons is being done for less money (since 1991, viewership is down by 66%). At what point does the creation of animated TV become unsustainable? And what replaces it?
To date, the majority of what's available on Netflix and Hulu is pre-existing material. In other words, the production of this content was paid for under the existing TV model, where broadcasters pay a license fee and producers sell to multiple markets in order to finance their shows.
But if the number of cable subscribers continues to drop, subscription fees and advertising revenues will also drop, making it even more difficult to finance original programming.
TV's evolution from a business standpoint has been very interesting. Initially, when there were limited choices over the air, every program got a substantial audience. A show didn't have to be the best, it only had to be the best in it's time slot, and the competition was less than half a dozen shows. Everything had a sizable audience, which meant that everything was able to attract solid advertising revenue.
Then came cable and the 500 channel universe. With more choice, viewership for individual shows fell. That meant less advertising revenue and budgets were reduced as a result. That's where reality programming came from, whether it was Survivor or the Home and Garden channel. Cheap programming became the standard instead of the exception.
Now, with OTT, the ground has shifted again. In a 500 channel universe, competition was still somewhat limited. A show was still competing against everything on in the same time slot, there were just a lot more shows. OTT is built on the idea of on-demand programming, which means that a show is now competing against everything on at the moment and everything in the libraries of OTT service. And if people continue to dump cable, then newer shows are cut off from that revenue stream.
The trend has been towards a continuing fragmenting of the audience into smaller and smaller chunks for each show. We could theoretically reach a point where a show is competing against every show ever made as well as every movie ever made.
As the audience for each show gets smaller, how do you finance a show? Lower budgets are not the answer if you're competing against past product made with good budgets. This is especially true for animation, as older shows date less badly than live action and children are less sensitive to when a show was made anyway.
I'm very glad that I'm not depending on the TV market for my livelihood anymore, and I wonder how aggressive TV animation studios are at finding new revenue streams. Budgets have been shrinking for years and will continue to shrink. Even The Simpsons is being done for less money (since 1991, viewership is down by 66%). At what point does the creation of animated TV become unsustainable? And what replaces it?
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Fred Moore, Where Are You?
Let's see. There's seven of these little guys. Could it be? Why yes! It's the seven dwarfs. Well, they're public domain, so anybody can use them, right? What's that? This is a Disney project? DISNEY?
Welcome to 7D, a new TV series for Disney Jr. Quick! Which one is Doc and which one is Happy?
Welcome to 7D, a new TV series for Disney Jr. Quick! Which one is Doc and which one is Happy?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The Genius That Was Pocoyo
If you've ever worked on a TV series, you know the limitations. The budgets are tight and the schedules are short. There is always the danger of attempting something too ambitious for TV or letting the limitations restrict everyone's creativity. Either way, the end result is mediocrity.
Usually, the first casualty of TV schedules and budgets is the animation itself. Whether it is subcontracted to a low wage studio or not, it still takes a lot of time to get done. Shows often throw the animation overboard, relying instead on the scripts, the audio tracks and the designs to keep the audience entertained.
Occasionally, though, somebody decides otherwise. Pocoyo is a pre-school cgi show made in Spain. The creators, Guillermo GarcĂa CarsĂ, Luis Gallego and David Cantolla, made conscious design choices that free them up to move the characters. What are they?
- No backgrounds
- Little to no dialogue
- A limited number of characters
Many pre-school shows just use a narrator. It makes it easier to create versions of the show in different languages in that there is only a narration track to replace and it can be done with only one performer, not a cast. The lack of dialogue also forces the animators to communicate visually.
By limiting the number of characters, once the design, modeling and rigging of the characters is done, that's it for the series. No new neighbors, visitors, villains, etc.
As the design, modeling, rigging and texturing jobs are limited in scope, the money normally spent on them can be put into performance. The Pocoyo characters move in distinct ways. Their rigging is excellent, resulting in playful shape changes and funny movements.
In addition to these creative choices, the show has something that's hard to write into a budget or schedule: charm. It's just fun to watch. There are pre-school shows I find deathly boring or puerile. Pocoyo is a show that doesn't need apologies. It works for pre-schoolers, for their parents and certainly for animators.
Two other things are worth mentioning. Where many North American shows now default to 11 minute episodes, Pocoyo is roughly 7 minutes per episode. That gives the show a snappy pace where other shows feel padded to fill their running times. The other thing is that for years, the conventional wisdom was that holds don't work in cgi. Pocoyo proves they do. It's not the cgi that makes holds feel dead, it's the designs and style of movement. Pocoyo's designs are cartoony enough and the movement stylized enough that holds work. That's another money-saver, too.
The first season is the best. Unfortunately, when it came time to do another season, somebody decided to "improve" the series. While Pocoyo is a perfect example of "less is more," somebody decided that less wasn't enough. Characters were added and so were environments. Instead of Pocoyo and friends living in limbo, they now visited cliché environments like the sea bottom and outer space, making it just another pre-school show.
While the original vision lasted, however, Pocoyo showed that there are artistic choices that can overcome TV's budgets and schedules. As TV budgets continue to shrink, animation doesn't have to be sacrificed unless the producers want it to be.
Friday, July 18, 2008
One Percent Redux
I want to call everyone's attention to a comment made by Andrew Osmond on the entry One Percent. He provides more details about the state of children's animation in the U.K. and it was Andrew who pointed to the above video, showcasing the culture issues that result from the lack of local production. If you're curious to see what the Wombles are actually like, go here (once again courtesy of Andrew.)
Canada has many co-production treaties, which allow companies from different countries to collaborate with a Canadian company on a show and still have it count as Canadian content. It works economically as it makes it easier to get a show financed and provide local employment. Culturally, however, the show has to satisfy multiple masters and the result is almost always a watered down compromise. The show can't be too specific to one partner's culture or it ends up being incomprehensible to the other partner's.
The result of all this is either imported children's TV (cheaper to buy than to produce original content) or co-productions (half a loaf being better than none). In neither case are children seeing the world they know reflected back to them.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
One Percent
TV channels are suffering from declining audiences. That puts financial pressure on them to increase their viewership, which means that niche programs are often abandoned in favour of others promising larger audiences.
Like it or not, the children's audience is considered a niche that broadcasters have been abandoning for years. Some, like NBC, have abandoned it completely while others (Fox, CBS) have just leased out their children's timeslots rather than bother to originate programming themselves.
I recently spoke to a Canadian studio owner who said to me that while there are quotas for how much Canadian content a channel must broadcast, there's no requirement that the Canadian content be new. As overall audiences shrink (and the world heads into a recession), there's lots of incentive to avoid commissioning new children's programming. Here's an article from the Telegraph in the U.K. about the British situation.
These pressures have also affected budgets. I heard from the same studio owner that producers are attempting to get half hour shows produced in China for $25,000. That price is only for the visuals, not scripts, boards, audio tracks and post-production, but I commented that in the 1970's in New York, Zander's Animation Parlour would get $30,000 for the visuals of a 30 second commercial. Commercials always had higher budgets per minute than the shows they interrupted, but it's hard to imagine how any studio could produce 22 minutes for $25,000.
Disney's recent live action successes have also reduced the amount of new TV animation being produced. The big question is whether this situation is temporary and will improve or if we're seeing the a permanent change in children's TV.
This might be a good time to be pitching puppet shows.
Like it or not, the children's audience is considered a niche that broadcasters have been abandoning for years. Some, like NBC, have abandoned it completely while others (Fox, CBS) have just leased out their children's timeslots rather than bother to originate programming themselves.
I recently spoke to a Canadian studio owner who said to me that while there are quotas for how much Canadian content a channel must broadcast, there's no requirement that the Canadian content be new. As overall audiences shrink (and the world heads into a recession), there's lots of incentive to avoid commissioning new children's programming. Here's an article from the Telegraph in the U.K. about the British situation.
There are 26 channels available to satellite and cable viewers that specifically cater for children. They include Cartoon Network, which shows the popular US-made cartoon Ben 10. However, the number of original and native programmes has plummeted. One per cent of the 113,000 hours of children's programmes broadcast last year were new commissions made in Britain.The situation in Britain is complicated by a ban on junk food advertising during children's programming. That's undoubtedly good for children's health, but not so good for animation artists' bank accounts.
These pressures have also affected budgets. I heard from the same studio owner that producers are attempting to get half hour shows produced in China for $25,000. That price is only for the visuals, not scripts, boards, audio tracks and post-production, but I commented that in the 1970's in New York, Zander's Animation Parlour would get $30,000 for the visuals of a 30 second commercial. Commercials always had higher budgets per minute than the shows they interrupted, but it's hard to imagine how any studio could produce 22 minutes for $25,000.
Disney's recent live action successes have also reduced the amount of new TV animation being produced. The big question is whether this situation is temporary and will improve or if we're seeing the a permanent change in children's TV.
This might be a good time to be pitching puppet shows.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Guy Delisle
As someone with a life-long interest in comics, I make sure to keep fairly up to date with what's going on in the field of graphic novels. When I started Pyongyang by Guy Delisle, I had no idea it was written by someone who was working in North Korea as an animation supervisor for a Western production. I've just finished Shenzhen by Delisle, about his time in the Chinese city supervising another animated TV series.
Both books are far more travelogues than than they are concerned with animation. They fall into the genre of visitors to new environments who document how life differs from what they are used to. Delisle is an entertaining guide to the two cities. As as he spent months working and living in each, the reader gets a fuller appreciation for the locales than if he was just a tourist who dropped in for a week.
Still, there is interesting material about how animation production proceeds under these circumstances. As I've never worked in Asia, I have no idea how typical Delisle's experiences are but I can't help regretting how TV animation is produced. I can only imagine, based on Delisle's cultural dislocation, how it must be for Asians to be working on Western projects, dealing with languages and cultures they're not familiar with, having to take orders from a foreign boss who can't communicate with them directly and answering to someone who has no understanding of their lives.
Has anyone from Asia written about the experience of working on Western TV animation? If so, can someone please let me know?
If Delisle's writings are accurate, they are proof that animation made for television is created under such broken conditions that an animated performance is an impossibility.


Both books are far more travelogues than than they are concerned with animation. They fall into the genre of visitors to new environments who document how life differs from what they are used to. Delisle is an entertaining guide to the two cities. As as he spent months working and living in each, the reader gets a fuller appreciation for the locales than if he was just a tourist who dropped in for a week.
Still, there is interesting material about how animation production proceeds under these circumstances. As I've never worked in Asia, I have no idea how typical Delisle's experiences are but I can't help regretting how TV animation is produced. I can only imagine, based on Delisle's cultural dislocation, how it must be for Asians to be working on Western projects, dealing with languages and cultures they're not familiar with, having to take orders from a foreign boss who can't communicate with them directly and answering to someone who has no understanding of their lives.
Has anyone from Asia written about the experience of working on Western TV animation? If so, can someone please let me know?
If Delisle's writings are accurate, they are proof that animation made for television is created under such broken conditions that an animated performance is an impossibility.
Excerpted from Shenzhen (Click to enlarge)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)