Jan Svankmajer's "Moznosti Dialogu" (Dimensions of Dialogue, Czech
Republic, 1982)
Considered by some to be his masterpiece, the twelve-minute film is
divided into three parts:
"Exhaustive Discussion" has three heads--one made of fruit and
vegetables, a second of kitchen and work tools, a third of writing
and mathematical tools--that constantly devour then vomit out each
other. A simple, even simplistic parable: Living Matter (fruits and
vegetables) is fodder for Labor (work tools); Labor is no match for
Intellect (writing and math tools); Intellect depends on humans to
exist, who are Living Matter, which is fodder for Labor...and so on
and so forth...
What that outline doesn't give you is a sense of the wondrous
intricacy of the animated figures Svankmajer brings to life--lemon
and scissors and books fly about, chewing and being chewed with
relentless vigor. The scissors cut up the lemons, the books slam
shut, crushing the scissors, the cut-up pieces of lemon swarm all
over the books, tearing them to shreds. It's an unsettling vision
of digestion and decay, the end result being inevitably messy...
"Passionate Discourse" has a clay man and clay woman facing each
other across a table: he smiles; she looks down. They lean forward,
their lips meet...and their faces and bodies merge into a series of
lapping waves of clay, as erotic a metaphor for desire as any I've
seen. The sequence ends, as most relationships do, in bitterness
and rancor, here depicted with alarming intensity as the two tear at
each other's clay flesh...
"Factual Conversation" has two clay heads facing each other. Out of
one head's mouth comes a toothbrush; out of the other, a tube of
toothpaste. Various objects follow: bread and butter, shoe and
shoelace, pencil and sharpener. Then the objects start mixing:
butter is spread over the shoe, the shoelaces knot up around the
pencil, the sharpener makes quick work out of the toothbrush. Call
it a metaphor for the need for appropriate response in any
conversation; I call it a hilarious and imaginative restaging of the
game of "rock-scissors-paper." Again, entropy and decay reign over
all...
Nicole Van Goethem's "Een Griekse Tragedie" (A Greek Tragedy,
Belgium, 1985)
Cartoon about three muses (or hags, if you prefer) on pedestals
holding up a crumbling Greek facade. Amusing, mostly harmless.
Ishu Patel's "Paradise" (Canada, 1984)
A black bird, envious of the going-ons inside a magnificent palace,
collects bits and pieces of other birds and puts on a colorful
disguise; he finds, much to his surprise (though not ours) that he's
better off outside. Somewhat blandly conceived, and blandly
executed (though the colors are striking).
Raimund Krumme's "Seiltanzer" (Ropedance, Germany, 1986)
Two men, a rope, and a rectangle that does multiple duty as a
picture frame, a window, and a pit. Simple but clever.
Boyko Kanev's "Smatchkan Sviat" (A Crushed World, Bulgaria, 1986)
A papier-mâché world where people when rejected crumple up into
little wads of pulp, and a paper plane gliding about represents
hope. The hero is imprisoned, is released, finds companionship with
a boy. Interestingly textured, but you wish the bits of crushed and
crumpled pulp moving about resembled people a little more closely...
Mark Baker's "The Hill Farm" (Great Britain, 1988)
Well, what I remember of this rather long short (15 minutes) is that
it was about a farm...a shepherd...trigger-happy fox hunters...
visiting tourists...they explored the farm and a nearby cave, with a
bear in it...there was a storm...that's about it. Oh, the farmer's
wife has an amusing way of breaking a chicken's neck.
Michaela Paviatova "Repete" (Repeat, Czech Republic, 1995)
Snails, ants, people copulating. A man walking a dog on a leash. A
woman spoon-feeding a man again and again, who barely notices her.
A man tries to hang herself, is cut down by a woman with shears,
offers gratitude, is rejected by the woman, hangs himself again. A
woman and man prepare to make love, only to be interrupted by a
phone call, again and again...
Paviatova picks up the pace (her scribbled pencil-on-paper style
adds to the urgency), increasing the tension among characters and
their meaninglessly repetitive routines, until one of them--the dog
of all people--digs in its heels in defiance. Then one ant slaps
the other in the face; then the spoon-feeding woman glowers in
anger. The rebellion spreads, up and down the line, the various
routines crisscrossing each other and creating chaos, until the
woman with shears cuts off the dog's leash. The message being, I
suppose, that sometimes you need change (even death, it's suggested)
to stop taking things for granted. Evocative.
Jacques Drouin's "Droits au Coeur" (Rights from the Heart: Ex-Child,
Canada 1994)
Pin screen drawings create deep shadows and an overall grim world
where children are conscripted into the army and go into battle.
One child watches as tracer bullets and artillery light up the sky;
he looks on as a dead man comes back to life, goes back to his wife
and family, then dies again. Heavy-handed, but with undeniable
power.
Michael Dudok De Wit's "Le Moine et Le Poisson" (The Monk and the
Fish, France, 1994)
India ink and gouache give this piece clarity and charm, about a
hungry monk after an elusive fish. Some lovely water reflections;
the comic chase eventually evolves into a connection between Monk
and Fish, floating off, I suppose, into eternity...
Laurent Gorgiard's "L'Homme aux Bras Ballants" (The Man with
Pendulous Arms, France, 1997)
About literally that, a man with arms so long they trail behind
him. He comes upon a pair of handles sunk into a concrete floor and-
-literally--pulls the night up around him. Atmospheric puppetry,
enigmatic, a bit short.
Konstantin Bronzit's "Au Bout du Monde" (At the End of the Earth,
France, 1998)
A seesawing house, a fat cow that drags her teats on the ground, a
pail of milk and bird droppings--grotesque pratfalls, expertly timed
and orchestrated.
Barbel Neubauer's "Feuerhaus" (Firehouse, Germany, 1998)
Selectively exposed negatives shown to a pulsating beat--glimpses of
leaves, stems, flowers, seeds. Hardcore lovers of abstract art
should appreciate this.
Boustani Christian's "A Viagem" (The Voyage, Portugal, 1998)
Live footage digitally put together, about Portuguese ships setting
sail, meeting mythological creatures like a unicorn and a dragon,
arriving upon Japan. Beautifully done, if a bit insubstantial.
Daniel Kramer "The Buddy System" (USA, 1999)
Out and out computer animation, about characters in a comic strip
that realize they're in a comic strip. Somewhat lamely written,
with an emphasis on smart-alecky if harmless comic-book action.
Romain Villemaine's "Gazoon" (France, 1998)
Computer animation, about birds and an elephant. Nothing much else
to say about it.
There's a definite progression to be seen here, from Bretislav
Pojar's humanist charm through Zbigniew Rybczynski's formal
brilliance and Jan Svankmajer's wonderfully complex textures to
Daniel Kramer's rather sophomoric humor; from detailed stop-motion
animation to elegant pencil drawings to the rather cold technique of
computer animation. Hopefully the next millennium will see either a
revival of traditional animation techniques or a maturation of this
newfangled computer stuff. Let's see what happens.
(First printed in Menzone Magazine, June 2003)
(The Annecy Awards tapes are with the French Embassy, who hopefully
will show them again soon. Call 810 1981 and ask for their
Audiovisual Department for more information)
(Comments? Email me at noelbotevera@...)