As Dreamworks’ latest animation, Over The Hedge, reaches our screens, Craig Driver takes a look at the digital cartoon phenomenon.
Upon discovering that Woody is slowly falling apart in Toy Story 2, Andy’s mum tells her deflated son an honest truth: “I'm sorry, honey, but you know... toys don't last forever.” With the recent decision by Disney to dissolve their prestigious and once revolutionary cartoon studio in favour of a full-on animation assault, it’s hard to disagree with the well-meaning appraisal of Andy’s mum.
As the box office behemoths of Pixar and Dreamworks expertly parade their way onto the screen and pilfer our wallets, the personal touch of films such The Lion King, Aladdin and The Jungle Book seem to be cast aside in favour of a frenzied Digital utopia. With recent second-rate fodder such as Over The Hedge and Madagascar, you do sometimes get the feeling that dear old Walt must be turning in his Technicolor cryogenically-frozen grave. Thankfully, the Hawaiian shirt-wearing people at Pixar have managed to maintain that special level of warmth, wit and candour that allows the legacy of Disney to live on in a new and highly fertile landscape.
With every new summer holiday comes a barrage of animation films desperately competing for all those kiddie dollars finally free from the tyranny of school. No matter what the cynics may say, digital animation is a step in the only direction Disney and friends could ever really make. Films such as Mulan and Brother Bear were beginning to show sizeable cracks in the once impenetrable cultural phenomenon of planet Disney. The storylines were paper thin and the humour verging on the saccharine. In teaming up with the wiz kids at Pixar, Disney showed not only a keen eye for future development but also a willingness to adapt and evolve. Companies such as Dreamworks, with its powerhouse founding trio of Katzenberg, Geffen, and Spielberg, quickly followed suit with Antz and the commercial giant, Shrek. It seems in an age where the dollar is king, no-one can afford to be left lamenting the glories of the past.
The problem that digital animation faces is that of complacency. Too often has digital animation been used as a marketing tool rather than a craft to be cherished. Some companies appear to merely jump on the bandwagon in haste to catch the gold at the end of the digital rainbow. A prime example of this being the truly awful Shark Tale, which seemed to stuff as many famous voices into the mix as possible in the vain belief that celebrity endorsement equates to artistic credibility.
The problem for us as viewers is that while such criticism may seem totally acceptable, for the accounting departments at Pixar and Dreamworks such comments must surely seem churlish. Toy Story 1 and 2 combined took close to $450,000,000 in the USA alone, while Shrek 1 and 2 took well in excess of $700,000,000 in the USA. Pixar continued this enviable trend with Monsters Inc. taking close to $270,000,000 in the USA and The Incredibles producing box office takings of $280,000,000, while Finding Nemo took well in excess of $340,000,000 in the USA alone . These are numbers that only exist in realistic terms when referring to the biggest of businesses. Even Fox Animation’s one big animation hitter Ice Age and its sequel Ice Age: The Meltdown garnered takings close to $400,000,000 in the USA, while Shark Tale, despite its blatant inferiority, took $170,000,000. Whether it be artistic or not, any cinematic movement that is capable of producing such monetary profit on a repeated scale is not going to stop and consider the dissolution of the traditions its success is built upon.
The key to all this success is that both Pixar and Dreamworks are endeavouring to infuse such colossal franchises with a knowing wink and fervent cultural hoopla. Toy Story had its Star Wars homage, The Incredibles referenced and bettered the entire 007 series, while Shrek boasted a whole array of caustic references to Jeffrey Katzenberg’s recent debacle with Disney that often verged on the scathing – particularly the Disneyland-esque Lord Farquaad theme park pastiche. The sheer, unscathed innocence of so-called children’s animation has, thanks to the advent of digital wonderment, become infused with a child-like adult-orientated mischief. No longer is the animated feature the celestial escape where moral guidance and ethical certitude are paramount. Now it’s all about the pace of your patter and the extent of your wink. Gone are the days when Prince Charming’s kiss can awaken you from a beauty sleep deeper than death. Thanks to the brattish cheek of animators such as John Lasseter, Prince Charming is just as likely to have a jovial foursome with Bashful, Doc and Dopey than reassert heterosexual parameters and reawaken the damsel in distress.
Digital technology has not only changed the artistic aesthetic of animation but the also the moral and ethical obligation of those who produce such films. The extent of the profit generated from animated features provides the creators with an unbridled licence to poke fun at each and every corner of the living world. When the critics inevitably faun over the delightful balancing act of entertainment and artistry, it only serves to accentuate a ground swell of production and profit not seen since Microsoft and Apple busted in on the mainstream.
With Shrek the Third and Toy Story 3 both on the horizon, it would seem the age of digital animation is set to continue apace both creatively and commercially. There is no denying that the demise of an age where the pencil was mightier than the mouse is regrettable, but it’s hard to find fault with a medium that is capable of shining ever so brightly. We should perhaps see the development of digital animation as offering a modern climate in which our interrelated cultural heritage can finally be given free reign to indulge and expand. Those who once drew so beautifully are still drawing, only this time with the added addition of digital technology. The medium still relies on a high level of human input, what with the designers, artists and writers, not to mention the seemingly inexhaustible supply of star talent willing to lend their voice to the latest animated amphibian or crustacean. As John Lasseter, head of Pixar, said recently, “Whether it is generated by hand or by computer, the first goal of the animator is to entertain.” Only the most awkward of cynics would be bitter enough to disagree with such a sentiment.
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