Why I (Still) Love Animation

Grab your peanut-butter crackers and pull up your carpet square, because it's storytime!

In early 2015, my sister got married. During the reception, I was sitting at a table with a few people, chatting about this and that. Eventually, the conversation came around to movies. One of the people mentioned how much they enjoyed The LEGO Movie, and I responded by saying that, as much as I liked LEGO, I really loved Big Hero 6. This led to a conversation about animation in general.

As we talked, one of the people at the table began to smirk. I noticed, but I didn't think anything of it until that person opened their mouth and uttered this phrase:

"I can't believe a grown man still watches cartoons."

Now, it usually doesn't bother me when someone refers to anything animated as "cartoons." After all, it's convenient shorthand. It's only two syllables to "animated film's" five, and you've got to save breath anywhere you can. However, in this case, the tone of the person's voice told me that it was meant as an insult, and that really got me hot under the collar.

Unfortunately, this person caught me off-guard. As I recall, I hemmed and hawed for a second before saying something like, "Well... I like animation." Somehow, I don't think I convinced this person to give animation another try.

However, now, several months (and several similar conversations) later, I think I've finally formed some coherent thoughts on the matter. So, with no further ado, let me tell you why, even at twenty-six years old, I still love animated movies!

Disney animator Ward Kimball at the drafting board.

-You Can Do Anything With Animation. CGI is evolving at a rapid rate, opening all kinds of doors for all kinds of filmmakers. However, when it comes to live-action film, CGI can only be taken so far before it begins to look and feel silly. However, since animated films, by definition, take place in a heightened, different world, the animators have their wings unclipped. Using the remarkable animation technology available (or even just a pen and paper), animators can take us anywhere, from inside the human mind (Inside Out) to the depths of the jungle (Tarzan) to the farthest reaches of outer space (Titan A.E.). And all this can be done from one remarkable team of animators, from one building. No need to pay huge sums of money for location shooting, actor insurance, etc. when you have a computer or some paper!

-Animation Is An Amazingly Collaborative Art Form. Okay, okay; the same thing can be said of all filmmaking. Every film is a team effort, and every member of the crew plays a key role, from the director to the gofer who gets donuts for everyone. However, I feel like animation is an even more collaborative medium than live-action filmmaking. Reading about the animation field, I'm constantly impressed by how tightly-knit a community it holds; everybody seems so friendly and down-to-earth, and all seem willing to give credit to everyone else. Animation really is a team effort; just like live-action filmmaking, every single contribution, no matter how small, makes a great difference in the quality of the film. Since I'm big on teamwork and camaraderie, this is really special to me!

-Watching An Animated Film Is Like Watching A Moving Painting. The greatest book on animation ever written is probably The Illusion Of Life, written by Ollie Johnston and Frank Thomas (two of Walt Disney's famous "Nine Old Men" animators). There's a lot of things I love about that book, but one of those things is the title, because it says a lot about what I love about animation. For me, the illusion of life is particularly striking when it comes to hand-drawn animation; it's amazing to see these characters, 2D drawings, walking around, showing emotion, going on adventures, and even, sometimes, making me weep. That, to me, is magic.

-Watching Animated Films Uplifts Me. Ultimately, this is the biggest reason why I love animation: because watching it makes me happy. (Is there any greater reason to love something?) I grew up on a steady diet of animated films and TV shows, so I have a lot of feelings of nostalgia tied up in the medium. I find that those feelings of nostalgia color almost anything that's animated, not only the films that I grew up with; just seeing a well-done animated film can make me feel like a kid again. It's more than just that, though. You know how, when you walk out of a really good movie, you feel energized, refreshed, and uplifted? Well, even though I do get those feelings from live-action films, I come out of animated movies with those kinds of feelings more consistently. And I've just got to love anything that can constantly uplift me like that!

...And that, my friends, is why you will never convince me that "animation is just for kids." This is why, even at 90 years old, I'll be hogging the TV at the nursing home, watching The Jungle Book while my fellow residents want to watch the shuffleboard tournament. There are too many good elements to animation for me to ever let it go!

Why I Love 'Honey, I Shrunk The Kids'

I don't understand the "grade-school boys don't like girls" trope. Maybe I'm strange, but I've always liked girls, even in elementary school. In fact, I think my first kiss was in fourth grade; it was on the playground, and my first "girlfriend" and I were smooching behind the swings during recess. We got in trouble, but who cared? Since then, though, I've gotten more discerning about who and where I kiss.  (What does that have to do with Honey, I Shrunk The Kids? Patience, my friend. It'll all make sense in a second.)

In my young mind, only a few things ranked with girls in terms of greatness: comic books, pizza, and movies. I loved all sorts of movies, but I particularly loved Disney films (just like today). I had a big collection of Disney VHS tapes, and I watched them to death. So, when my mom brought home a copy of Honey, I Shrunk The Kids, I was excited. I immediately popped it into the VHS player and settled in to watch.

Within a few minutes, I was totally invested in the film. I was the most receptive audience the filmmakers could have wished for. Follow the shrunken Szalinski and Thompson kids across the Szalinskis's backyard? That's chicken feed. I would have followed them halfway across the world.

Why? I'll show you:

I was in love. Amy O'Neill, and her character Amy Szalinski, had become my way into the movie. When she danced with her mop, I longed to trade places with the mop. When she almost drowned in the sprinkler water, I was on the edge of my seat. Giant stop-motion ants? Who needed that when you had THIS?

 

Needless to say, I watched that VHS until I wore it out (literally). Also needless to say, my mom was less than willing to buy another copy of the movie. My Honey, I Shrunk The Kids watching was over. 

Flash forward to a couple days ago. I had bought a DVD copy of the movie years ago, but it had been sitting on the shelf, gathering dust. However, I had bought a pizza for dinner, and I needed a movie to keep me company while I dined. My eyes came to rest on HISTK, and I figured, Why not? I hadn't seen it since I was a kid. I popped the DVD into the player and settled back with my dinner. I wasn't in love with Amy anymore (I'm too old to find teenagers attractive), but the movie was still really good! Like, better-than-I-remembered good. 

And that, after that LONG introduction, is what brings us here today: what keeps Honey, I Shrunk The Kids from getting old?

If you're unfamiliar with HISTK, here's what you need to know. Wayne Szalinski, an inventor, lives in a quiet suburb with his wife, Diane, and his two kids, Nick and Amy. Wayne's obsessed with perfecting his shrink ray, which, if it works, will get him a huge grant. Unfortunately, his constant tinkering is putting a strain on his marriage, and the noise is upsetting his next-door neighbors, the Thompsons. The patriarch of the Thompsons, Russell "Big Russ" Thompson, is particularly upset about this. Big Russ also worries about his son, "Little Russ," who doesn't take interest in fishing or football. Instead, Little Russ prefers to lounge around and admire Amy Szalinski from afar.

When the Thompsons's younger son, Ron, hits a baseball through the Szalinskis's attic window, it activates the shrink ray. The ray goes berserk, shrinking everything in sight. The four kids are unaware of this and blindly wander into the attic, where they're shrunk. When Wayne accidentally sweeps the kids up and throws them out with the trash, they must journey across the jungle that is the Szalinski's backyard in order to get to the shrink ray and become full-sized again. Along the way, they fly on giant bees, combat flying sprinkler water, meet giant ants and scorpions, and almost get mulched by the lawn mower.

So, now, we come back to the million-dollar question: what makes Honey, I Shrunk The Kids good? Let's take this one piece at a time:

SCRIPT: Nothing fancy, but there's nothing wrong with that! The screenplay features a solid, sturdy three-act structure. It's easy to see each of the beats the movie hits; in fact, the movie practically announces when its reached the midpoint (it's when the kids reach the middle of the backyard). The story moves along at a decent pace; nothing's rushed, but the film's not boring, either. The dialogue's not dazzling, but there are decent lines peppered throughout the film.

CASTING: Rick Moranis is great as Wayne Szalinski; he treads the fine line between being goofy and being a concerned dad, and he does a good job. The rest of the actors are good enough, I guess. The four kid actors are decent, but they're nothing special. I'm inclined to give more credit to the script for giving us likable characters than to the acting. The actors are watchable, though!

CINEMATOGRAPHY: I was really interested in this. I imagine it must be difficult to light stop-motion scenes and miniatures, and there are a TON of them in this movie. However, the camera crew did a great job. I particularly liked the lighting in the backyard scenes; they were lit and shot as if they were scenes in a Tarzan flick, with the light shooting between the blades of grass and casting shadows. I thought that was cool!

SPECIAL EFFECTS: Oh, how I love stop-motion! I particularly love it when it's used to complement a live-action film; it gives the movie a retro feel, and I love it! This movie features a ton of stop-motion, particularly with all the insects the kids encounter. My favorite SFX scene is the duel between the ant and the scorpion; it's shot and edited in a kinetic, exciting way, and the character movement is so fluid!

MUSIC: I hate to say this, but James Horner could have done FAR better than this. His score strikes me as a little too bombastic and a little too loud. It's trying too hard to drive the excitement home, and it wasn't really working for me. However, this was relatively early in Horner's career, so I'm willing to cut him some slack. He went on to be great, after all!

Overall, I'd say the script is the saving grace of HISTK. It's so solidly structured and packed with likable characters that it carries the parts of the film that are lacking. Is it a masterpiece? No, but it's a lot of fun. If you've got dinner and you're looking for a movie to watch while you eat, it's more than fine! 

Overall Rating:  four out of five stars

What do you think of the movie? Agree? Disagree? Want to laugh at me and my childhood crushes? Go ahead and do so in the comments below!

Emotional Feedback: Why Radio Should Never Die

Casey Kasem in the studio, circa 1984

"Here we go with the Top 40 hits of the nation this week on American Top 40, the best-selling and most-played songs from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from Canada to Mexico! In the next three hours, we'll count down the 40 most popular hits in the United States this week, hot off the record charts of Billboard magazine. Now, on with the countdown!"

If you read that in the voice of Casey Kasem, you're not alone. I read it that way, too! That's the monologue (or a close variation thereof) that Kasem would use to introduce each week's episode of American Top 40. If you were a music fan and lived near a radio station that picked up the syndicated show (and you probably were), you probably came to know his voice well. I know I did! 

I wasn't around to listen to Kasem's first, "classic" run (he left the show in 1988, and I wasn't born until the next year), but I was around for his triumphant return in 1998! I was a constant listener from then until he left the show again in 2004. All of us music nerds owe Kasem and AT40 a big debt; thanks to the show, we kept up with the fluctuations of the Billboard Top 40 chart, and, thanks to Kasem himself, we got an education in pop music trivia!

Kasem is an important figure in the history of radio. Why? Because he did what every radio DJ should do: he helped bond his audience together! 

For instance, throughout the show, Kasem took care to say that these forty singles were being listened to by people all across the country. As I grew older, the idea that millions of people were listening to AT40 and hearing these singles at the exact same time became really potent to me. I was picked on a lot throughout elementary and middle school, and I felt really lonely. The reassurance that there were millions of other music nuts across the country meant a lot to me. 

Looking back, I think that was when I started to fall in love with radio. For the first time, I had made an emotional connection with what a DJ was saying, and I knew that there were others who were doing so, too. That knowledge made the music even better!

Not every radio DJ has the same pull as Casey Kasem had. After all, not everyone has a nationally syndicated radio show. A DJ doesn't have to have something like that, though, to be great. All a jockey needs to be awesome is:

1. a good broadcast voice
2. a working knowledge of broadcast equipment
3. a great personality
4. a passion for music 
5. a love for the audience

The first two qualities can be taught; the other three things need to already be there. Luckily, most disc jockeys have those unteachable qualities, or they wouldn't have tried to be DJs.

What all that means is that every town has at least one good jockey, or one good station, or whatever. It takes a little searching to find them. Luckily, though, once you DO find them, setting a preset on the radio takes maybe two seconds. And it's worth the search and the presetting to get that kind of connection you can get only from a good disc jockey and good programming.

That kind of connection is hard to get from Pandora Radio or an iPod playlist. Don't get me wrong; I use Pandora and my iPod as much as the next person. However, neither of those things can replace the excitement, laughs, and exhilaration that can come from a good DJ and a good radio playlist. For that reason alone, radio should never die!

(Credit where credit is due: shout-out to Rush and "Spirit of the Radio" for giving me the title of this post!)

[REVIEW] 'Love & Mercy'

The Beach Boys have always been an important part of my life. My dad brought home a cassette copy of Endless Summer (one of their many greatest-hits albums) when I was around eight years old, and listening to it was a formative experience for me. Ever since then, I've sought to learn everything I could about the group,

As I studied, I learned that the best things about the Beach Boys came from Brian Wilson. Brian was a musical genius. Brian usually didn't write his own lyrics, but, when he was paired with the right lyricist, he was able to reach under his shy exterior and make his insecurities known. Brian's insecurities & fears were similar to my own, so his songs always resonated with me. I could totally relate with the feelings of loneliness, insecurity and wanting to be accepted. I've always felt a kinship with Brian, so, when a Brian Wilson biopic was announced, I was excited. That movie was titled Love & Mercy.

Tonight, I got a chance to see Love & Mercy. I went into the theater happy, and I came out in a fighting mood. I would say that it's one of the worst films I've seen this year.

The movie focuses on two different periods of Brian's life. The first, set in 1966-1967, tells young Brian (Paul Dano) and his (and the band's) struggles to complete the album Smile, which (SPOILER) never did get finished, due to Brian's descent into drugs. The second story, set in the mid-1980s, revolves around how Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks) struggled to free Brian (John Cusack) from the domineering hold of his psychiatrist, Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti).

Both stories are interesting, and they could have been made into a good movie. Unfortunately, the director, writer, and editor (who will remain nameless to protect the guilty) decided to pull a Tarantino and mix the two stories together willy-nilly. I'm sure the filmmakers thought they were being artsy, but they just made a mess. I could almost work out what was going on, but that was only because I'd read about all this stuff before.

Speaking of being artsy, the worst part of the movie was when the filmmakers decided to tack on a weird dream sequence (that they totally ripped off from 2001: A Space Odyssey) for no apparent reason. THAT scene was so bad I wanted to puke (not even kidding).

The acting was blah. Most of the actors phoned in their parts, with the exceptions of Paul Giamatti, who spent most of the movie yelling, and Paul Dano, who actually did a decent job. It wasn't the worst thing in the film, but it wasn't good, either (except for Dano).

I will say that the cinematography in the 1960s scenes was pretty cool. The cinematographer did an awesome job of saturating the color, making those scenes look like they were shot in classic Technicolor. He also recreated a black-and-white Beach Boys video, and he did a great job with the film grain & black-and-white cinematography. Unfortunately, he got lazy during the 1980s scenes, which were lit flatly and were dull to look at.

The only really great thing about Love & Mercy was the music, but that was because it was the original Beach Boys tracks. They were shining beacons in a pile of crap.

Love & Mercy should have been a great movie; the subject matter is interesting, and Brian Wilson deserves a great biopic. The filmmakers REALLY fouled it up, though. If you really want to learn about Brian Wilson & the Beach Boys, you'd be better off reading Peter Ames Carlin's Catch A Wave or seeing the 2000 TV movie about the group. Stay away from Love & Mercy, though! You have been warned!


Rating:  One out of five stars

On Being Single

Being single isn't for sissies. (Of course, neither is marriage, but since I haven't experienced that yet, I'll leave that post for another time.) It can get really lonely, especially when you feel surrounded by peers who are getting engaged and married. If you let it, being single can also be a brutal blow to one's self-esteem; it's easy to feel like you're damaged goods when you're being rejected on a semi-regular basis. I've felt these feelings just as much as anyone.

Fortunately, though, those sad times have been coming much less often for me than they did before. Luckily for me, I've learned a few things about the single life (through the Lord, friends, and family) that have helped me change my point of view on this stage of my life. I've been thinking about them a lot lately, and I'm sharing them here in the hope that they'll help someone else.

-There's No Race To Get Married. Sometimes, cultural expectations make it seem as if you're not married by a certain age, there's something wrong with you. I can understand where that view comes from, but I also think it's sort of dangerous. If there's one decision you don't want to rush into, it's the decision of who you want to spend the rest of your life with. If you're single, you should feel free to take as much time as you need to make that choice.

-It's Okay To Be Picky (Within Reason). Let's be real here: none of us are going to find that perfect person, because such people don't exist. That doesn't mean, however, that we can't have qualities that we feel our girl- or boy- friend should have. It's perfectly okay to have deal-breakers, especially when they deal with important things like religious beliefs, views on family and child-raising, financial matters, and other such matters.  Of course, there are lots of smaller details that can be overlooked, but we should always hold our ground when it comes to the important things.

-You Don't Need To Put Your Life On Hold Until You Get Married. I have big plans for my life. For those of you who don't know, my dream in life is to become a professional screenwriter, to move back to Southern Cal and make my selling movie scripts and writing for TV shows. I've been working out a plan on how to get there: finish a few scripts, then reach out toward studios through an actor friend of my dad's and work my way up through the ranks.  Of course, once I get married or gain a girlfriend, she'll have a say in how my plans unfold, but I'm not waiting for her before I get started; I've finished one script and I'm looking at movie studio jobs. The same principle applies to every single person; you don't need to wait for another person in order to pursue your dreams & desires. Start now!

-You Don't Need To Put On A Fake Personality To Impress Someone. I have very unique tastes. I love '90s movies and '60s music. I'm fascinated with comic books and video games, but I'm also equally interested in baseball and boxing. I have lots of interests all over the board, and it makes me a unique person. My personality may not be to the taste of every girl I like, but that doesn't mean I have to change it to suit them. The same goes for all of us, since all of us have unique personalities; just because someone we have a crush on doesn't like our personality, that doesn't mean that we have to try and change it to someone else. It just means it's time to try the romance thing with someone else.

-Rejection Doesn't Mean You're Worthless. If you're going to remember just one thing from this blog post, you should make it this one, because this one is the most important. It's hard to ask someone you really like out and have them say no. It hurts! Even if the person turns you down politely, it still hurts. It's okay to feel a little disappointed, but it's really important that we don't let it affect our self-esteem. One person's rejection, or a hundred people's rejections, doesn't make us any less of a person. A rejection simply means it's time to try again with someone else. It's not a signal to start hating ourselves.

I don't want to attach too much importance to myself or to say that I'm a relationship expert; these are just some ideas that have helped me re-align my single life for the better. I'm just posting them here in the hope that they'll help someone else, just as they've helped me.  Hopefully, they do!

Try A Little Tenderness

The stories you are about to hear are true.  Names will be omitted to protect the innocent.

Incident #1: Sunday afternoon.  I'm at church, and I'm sitting in Sunday School.   It's an excellent lesson, partly about using our talents to push the work of God forward. Suddenly, I hear the teacher say my name, and I snap to full attention just in time to hear the teacher give me a lovely compliment about a talent she's perceived in me, one I'd never been aware of.  As a result, I feel like a million bucks the rest of the day.

Incident #2: Your birthday is always the best time to have a Facebook account, because, if you have awesome friends (like I do), a lot of them will take the time to write out a little birthday greeting to you.  I love all the greetings I received (and I thank my friends profusely for all of them), but one of them was different from the others.  In this greeting, a friend of mine, who happens to be an editor at a website I write for, takes the time to not only wish me a happy birthday, but also thanks me for being a good addition to the website team.  This makes me feel really good; it's a birthday gift in and of itself.  I come away feeling like a million bucks again.

Incident #3: I'm at work, and I've come off the high of an excellent weekend and I'm back to the day-by-day drudge of working at a warehouse.  The day is coming to a close, and I'm getting ready to go home when one of my co-workers, just out of the blue, says, "AJ, has anyone ever told you that you're a pretty cool guy?"  Stunned, I stammer out some stupid-sounding response, but I'm feeling like a million bucks again.

What do these three snapshots of my life have in common?  All of them feature someone who, with just a few words, changed my mood for the whole day.  It just took a few seconds to do, but it affected me for hours.

If your mom is anything like mine, you've probably heard this phrase hundreds of times: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."  It's a cliche, yes, but it does have a lot of wisdom behind it.  What we say has such a big impact on what happens around us.  With one small insult, you can tear a huge hole out of somebody's self-worth.  It also works the other way, though; with one small compliment, you can build a person up and really feel great about themselves.

I don't want to get preachy, but I would just like to encourage all of us (including myself, because I can work on this, too) to be careful what we say around others.  All of us are in a position to have a big impact on the people we meet, and all it takes to leave a mark is a couple of words.  It behooves us to choose those words carefully.  Remember what your mom said!

Superhero Fatigue

The year: 2002.  I was thirteen years old, the perfect age to get swept up in the hype surrounding the release of Sam Raimi's first Spider-Man film.  Said hype got me to buy my first graphic novel: a Marvel Masterworks collection of the first ten issues of The Amazing Spider-Man.  I read it to pieces; I have lots of fond memories of hanging out in my room, reading the book while sipping Sprite and listening to '60s pop music.  Needless to say, I was really excited to see the movie.

For some forgotten reason, I missed seeing Spider-Man in theaters, but my dad brought the DVD home soon after it was released.  I vividly remember seeing the film for the first time, nestled in my usual spot on our couch, with a bowl of popcorn in my lap.  I was amazed by the film; every second, I was seeing things I had never seen before, and my teenage mind was blown by the action sequences and the humor.  Seeing the film now, I can also see that the movie stays more true to the tone of the comic books than any other Spider-Man film.  I loved Spider-Man then, and I still do; it's one of my top ten superhero films of all time.

Predictably, Hollywood looked at the success of Spider-Man and decided that what we wanted was more superhero films, and lots of them.  The first few were really good; I liked Spider-Man 2,  I absolutely LOVED The Incredibles, and I think I'm one of the two people in the world who will actually defend the first Fantastic Four film.  Unfortunately, as superhero films have been falling ever thicker and ever faster, I've grown bored with the flicks.  This illness is commonly known as superhero fatigue.

Don't get me wrong; some really great superhero flicks have come out over the past few years.  Unfortunately, I can think of only two that I unreservedly love: Chronicle and Big Hero 6.  How many superhero films have come out since 2010?  I haven't been counting, but it must be up there in the double digits.  Of course, I'm talking about my own personal taste, but two out of (at least) ten is not a good ratio of greatness.

What went wrong with the superhero flick?  Every superhero flick feels the same.  Occasionally, a flash of originality will shine through, but, for the most part, superhero films feel like slick movies that roll off the assembly line, each exactly the same as the others.  Personally, I'm tired of seeing the same old stuff in superhero movies.

What's the solution?  It's simple: the filmmakers need to bring their own personal flair to the films.  Take, for instance, another of my favorite superhero flicks: Richard Donner's 1978 masterpiece Superman: The Movie.  Each of the movie's three acts has its own distinct style: epic & almost Biblical in the opening scenes on Krypton; sepia-toned Americana (composed in beautiful widescreen shots) in the Smallville section, and jokey, fast-paced, urban style in the Metropolis portion.  Some directors, like Shane Black (Iron Man 3) and James Gunn (Guardians Of The Galaxy), have learned this lesson and applied it, leaving their individual touch on their films.  Now, it's time that other directors did the same.

I mentioned Black & Gunn to specifically prove one thing: that doing distinctive, unique work is possible, even in a huge corporation like Marvel.  I think that a lot of filmmakers think that directors like Brad Bird (The Incredibles), M. Night Shyamalan (Unbreakable, a movie I will defend to my grave), and Josh Trank (Chronicle) can do clever, creative stuff, since they're working with original stories.  However, some directors who work for the big companies, like Marvel or DC, feel hamstrung by us fans and our expectations.

What do do about fans?  Here's my answer to the directors: in the words of Fleetwood Mac, "go your own way."  Comic books are a different medium than movies, and comic book stories will inevitably need to be tweaked to make them work on film.  On top of that, if a director doesn't feel like filming a story exactly as it unfolds in the comic books, he should feel free to change it!  Personally, I applaud Shane Black for making his controversial Mandarin decision in Iron Man 3.  I know it annoyed a lot of fans, but I admire Black's ballsiness in taking the comic-book story and changing it to suit his own sensibilities.  If a director is going to make a superhero film that's going to stand out, he or she needs to have that kind of courage. 

I know that my opinions on this issue aren't widely held, and I know I'm going to catch a lot of heat for this post.  I anticipate it, and I look forward to the good discussions (NOT arguments) we're going to have.  So, have at it!