Sunday, July 20, 2014

I Made an Animated Short

I made a short animated cartoon called Cookie Tree. It's about a stuffed turtle. You should watch it and share it with all your friends.




I've been working on and off on this short for about nine months. Here's the story of how Cookie Tree was made:

Cookie Tree started as a project for my animation class. I teach a weekend/summer class on Flash animation to kids, who generally find it difficult, but rewarding. Years ago, some of my students started complaining that making movies in the time allotted was impossible. To prove that it was, indeed, possible, I started making animated shorts along with them. During the school year, the students have, roughly eight hours each month to work on their art in the computer studio. So I would give myself eight hours each month to work on my animations at home. At the beginning of each class, the students could check my work and measure my progress. (I have no plans to post those early shorts online, as I am equal parts proud and ashamed of them.) In the end, the experiment was met with overwhelming indifference. It seems that the students were not really concerned with how possible the assignments were. They just liked complaining. So I ended the experiment.

Fast forward to last November. This year's group of students were different. They might actually appreciate seeing a movie get made. Plus, it had been a long time since I animated anything and I thought it would be good for me to try it again. I had been wanting to make a good short for myself and for my web audiences. Animation class might be a good excuse to make myself start something. I decided to announce the project as soon as I finished the concept sketches.

Coming up with a concept was simple. Each year, our project director gives the students a theme - a broad topic for their art. This year's theme was The Life of a Toy. So I decided to make a short about a stuffed bear who has to go on a short quest through his family's back yard. Only I didn't know what he was questing for or why. 

The rest of the story came to my one evening as I was watching my one-year-old nephew. He was sitting in a bouncy chair, holding a small plush toy. Not surprisingly, he dropped the little animal and it fell to the ground below his feet. The poor kid started stretching a fussing as he hopelessly tried to pick up his little friend. As I handed it back to him, I thought about how frustrated he must have been to have something that he wanted go just barely beyond his grasp. I realized that was what my story was missing. The stuffed animal in my film should be helping a baby. The toy could come to life when only his kid was around and help him do thing that babies can't quite do for themselves. Since my nephew has an impressive collection of plush turtles, the bear became a turtle instead.

First concept drawings


After the kid went home, I finished the concept sketches, most of the storyboard and, later, the animatic. I presented them to my students the following week. This pre-production stuff carried over to the final project pretty faithfully. 


Here's page one of the storyboard, which was later scanned and turned into an animatic. The frame where the turtle wipes his nose was dropped. So was the cookie close up (you can see that frame is maked with an "X") Everything else is in the final film.

Even though the movie would only run for three minutes, it was an ambitious concept for one person to animate alone. I remember joking that I might one day be showing a newly finished film to a confused, fourteen-year-old nephew, who would ask "Why did you make me a baby?" And I, bitter from 13 years of animation, would reply, "because shut yer mouth, that's why."

Now that I was ready to start making the actual short, I figured it would be best to begin with the backgrounds. I decided that as long as I was challenging myself, I would really push myself outside of my comfort zone. Usually, when I animate, I draw the character frames by hand and then create the backgrounds digitally. This time, I decided to do the opposite - paint the backgrounds and draw the characters directly in Flash. I started painting the backgrounds shortly after Christmas. I used watercolor pencils for a clean but sketchy look. I had just received a set of rendering markers for Christmas, which I used to add the outlines. Since I was limiting the time I could spend on the project each week, the backgrounds took about a month.

One of the hand-painted backgrounds. The short used fourteen different backgrounds and five painted branches.

Character animation went quickly at first. I placed the backgrounds, drew rough shapes to represent each character, then gradually replaced each rough shape with a finished character made from shapes and lines. That gave me the clean look I wanted, but it was a little tedious and made fluid movements difficult, especially on the human characters. If I ever make another short in this fashion, I'll probably use the digital paint brush for characters outlines.

By the time spring classes had ended, I had finished all the turtle animations, some of the baby animations, and none of the father animations. I squeezed in a voice recording session with my brother-in-law so the movie would be slightly coherent when showed it to my students, with the promise that it would be finished by the time summer classes started up in July. At this point, the limited time rule had also gone out the window and I was giving this project all the time I wanted. (Well, maybe not all the time I wanted. I still finished my comics and went to work and stuff.)

Of course, every project like this has at least one set back, and mine came about four weeks before the film was due. My computer had started running slow and was becoming a little unreliable. In June, it actually destroyed an Urban Underbrush comic, which I grudgingly re-colored hours before it posted. Then it stopped opening the Flash editor, which is kind of important when you're making a Flash movie. I couldn't tell if it was the computer or the Flash program that had gone bad on me, so I took my computer to the shop, where it was diagnosed with faulty sensors. (I already told that story here.) A three-day repair job ended up taking more than a week. I would never have finished on time if my sister, Emily, hadn't lent me her laptop. I was pretty close to the end of the short, so it only took one night of computer-borrowing. I was never happier to stay up all night working on something.

So the animation was finished, but the film had no music. My sister Liz, the musician of the family, had offered to write the music. (I'm making her something in return. I can't talk about it yet, but it will be awesome.) However, since the action scenes have no sound effects, the music had to compliment the actions. The music had to match the timing of the animation, which meant that Liz couldn't even start the music until all the animation was finished. I gave Liz a version of the film and told her that the movie didn't need to debut on the first day of class. As long as it was finished before the first week was up, we'd be okay. We also looked at a few shorts and discussed what the tone of the piece should be. Liz is great to work with. She adds her own ideas, but she also really listens to what I had in mind. The music took Liz a few days, but she nailed it. The movie ended up with a score that feels like a blend of classic pop, video game soundtracks, and storybook themes. I guess that's about right.

I did a little adjustments to the animation to make sure everything was clear, threw in the rest of the sounds (birds chirping and baby crying) and hit the publish buttons.

The movie was presented to my class on July 11. Of course, by this point, it was much more than a teaching tool. I had planned on posting it online to share with my family, friends, and internet followers. A few of my cousins have already seen it before it went live. But it was nice to have my class as a jumping-off point. If I didn't have a reason to make this film, even a reason that I, myself, had invented, I would probably never had finished, possibly never had started.

Thanks to everyone who helped make the film and thanks to those of you who watched it. You make my work possible.

-Marj

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Voices

Last weekend, I went to Anthrocon (Pittsburgh's furry convention) and got a hug from a stranger who I've known all my life.

I usually visit the con on Sundays to check out the dealers and bug Chris Paulsen. This year, I bought a full attending pass and went every day.

Because this year, they were doing panels and autographs with cartoon voice actors.

This summer, the guests of honor were the amazing Lee Tockar and (wait for it…) the legendary Mr. Jim Cummings! 

Lee Tockar is best known for performing characters for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Transformers Beast Wars. He's also a driving force behind FanBuilt, a community for creative people (which all of you creative people should go check out.)

Now, if you don't know Jim Cummings, I can't possibly explain how awesome he is in the space provided. I'll summarize by telling you that he's best known as the voices of Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, The Tasmanian Devil, and roughly 25% of the Disney Afternoon characters from the 80's and 90's. (Then, I'll urge you to google him and learn more.) There are few people on earth that I would be more interested in meeting than Jim Cummings. As soon as I found out about this year's guests, I bought a weekend pass on the spot - fearing that once word got out that Jim Cummings and Lee Tockar would be visiting Anthrocon, all admission passes would instantly sell out and I'd be left cursing myself for my hesitation.

I need to tell you some stories from my shady past before any tales from this weekend will make sense. First of all, I have never aspired to be a voice actor and I'm very comfortable with my place at the drawing table. Yet, when I turned fourteen and actually started reading the credits of cartoon shows, I found myself remembering the actors' names rather easily. In the beginning, I was only interested in creators. I wanted to know who to admire for making these great stories, great art, and (above all else) great characters. But most cartoons have big teams of people to take credit for any ideas. It was impossible for me to know exactly who to put at the top of that pedestal. But if I knew who the actors were, then I always had one individual name that I could place on each character - or at least, that version of that character. So I started learning everything I could about voice actors. Keep in mind that there was no proper internet back then, so if you were a "voice chaser" (which was a stupid name people once used to describe fans of voice actors) you had to learn to identify them by the sound of their voice and glean the occasional write-up from newspapers and kids' magazine interviews. And these people were fascinating. They all seemed to have amazing lives, kind hearts, and great humor. (They're pretty much what you wish Hollywood actors were like.) Don't get me wrong, I had great fun learning about cartoon creators. But that was always a little academic, as I knew I was doing research for my own future projects. Learning about voice actors was pure indulgence.

In 1997, a year before I graduated high school, I drew my first serious comic book. It was an eight page book called Small Town Showdown, and it featured the first appearances of Cassidy, Maxwell, Vincent, Clayton, Blair, and Leslie. (Clive appeared almost a year later in a comic called Flip Side.) For reasons that even I can't fully comprehend, I used an old publicity photo of Jim Cummings as the model for Vincent. As the years went on, Jim and Vincent both changed in appearance. Perhaps the only common features remaining are the wide noses and some fly-away hair (although Vincent's hair is much messier now.)

Early version of Vincent and the photo I borrowed for reference


Of course, teenage me could never imagine Jim Cummings ever, ever, ever finding out about this. But adult me, who was trying to think of a way to tell Mr. Cummings how much he has meant to me, I couldn't think of any other story to tell. So, I thought up an "elevator pitch" version of the events listed above, wrote it on the back of an Urban Underbrush postcard (yes, I have those) and brought it with me to present to Mr. Cummings at the convention. I usually don't get nervous at these things anymore (heck, I once sang karaoke in front of the National Cartoonist Society) but in that autograph line, I was feeling anxiety like I hadn't felt in years. Finally, when my turn came, I awkwardly told Jim my story and handed him my postcard. Jim thanked me graciously and shook my hand. Then he changed his mind about ending with a handshake and gave me a hug. And here, I had been thinking a handshake was too much to hope for.

That's Jim on the left and me on the right, in case you were confused.


In the afternoon/evening, I attended all of the voice actor panels. Of course, both guests were funny and charming and everything was alright with the world.

The next day, things got weird.

On Saturday morning, I was ready to attend Jim Cumming's second panel (the Second Cummings) and my sister Liz came with me this time. The panel was late to get started, so, to keep the crowd busy Robert Bourke,  the moderator, asked if there were any artists in the audience who would be willing to try and draw Jim Cummings.

Liz immediately started shaking my arm and emphatically whispered "You have to do this! Everything has lead to you doing this." Then she handed me a sharpie, which she apparently produced from thin air. I expected four or five people to draw caricatures, but (surprise) I was the only person who accepted the challenge. I ran my 90 second caricature to the front of the room. The moderator thanked me and held up my drawing to the crowd and I waved and bowed while they applauded and it was all pretty funny. 

Unfortunately, they had to postpone the panel, due to the late start. Fortunately when it started up at it's new time, both Jim Cummings and Lee Tockar were able to attend together. 

Me and Lee Tockar. I'm on the left this time.

Again, it was a fun show, but just as things were wrapping up, the moderator stood up and said, "Yesterday, one of the fans drew Jim's portrait and we wanted to present it to him." And he carefully produced my increasingly sketchy-looking drawing and passed it to Jim. Then the moderator asked, "The person who drew this, is she here?" And I had to stand up. And everyone applauded. And, for the briefest of seconds, the world stopped spinning.

As I recall those moments went something like this:

Jim: Thank you. You drew this?

Me: Yeah, I, sort of gave you some art on Friday too.

Jim: I remember.

Me: I suppose I'm your regular portrait artist now.

Jim: I suppose you are.

Lee: I get one of those too, right?

Me: Sure.

(The panel continues while I sketch Lee Tockar)

In the days that followed, I've told that story to friends, relatives, grocery store check-out clerks, people at the bus stop (which was weird, as I never actually took a bus anywhere) and anyone else I've encountered. And it still doesn't seem real. Because this is not the kind of thing that actually happens to people. This is the kind of thing that happens to people in self-indulgent Mary Sue daydream fantasies that we make up to amuse themselves while the wait in line to glimpse our heroes in panels or autograph sessions. We never expect these things to happen.

But, sometimes they do.

-Marj