Stop-motion the Insanity

     Stop-motion animation, a technique used as early as 1898, is a laborious, time- and energy-consuming, tedious method of filmmaking; its evil and gluttonous necessity of hours upon hours of back-cramping and eye-straining diligence should only be relegated to either masochists or serious offenders. Unfortunately, the results of the process can often be wonderful and magical (as anyone who grew up watching Sesame Street or Gumby can attest to), making filmmakers like me return to the form whenever possible.


     I was never formally taught how to create a stop-motion animation. Chances are I learned the basics when I was little, watching every "Making Of..." special I could find. I wasn't afforded the chance to make my own animation until a filmmaking class in college. Given a Bolex and three rolls of 16mm black and white reversal, I set out to make "It's Only A Paper Moon..." Combining stop-motion with live action, I was able to create a short about light bulbs that almost made a classmate cry.






     A few years later I began working for a media company, who during my tenure purchased a Panasonic Lumix GH-1 for use as a portable HD video camera. I was assigned to test it out, and rather than figure out how to use its video features I decided to make a stop-motion short. I had a banana in my lunch and had been listening to David Rose at the time. Banana + David Rose = Poledancing Banana. Obviously.






It took me about two hours to photograph and edit the 24-second short. Somehow, I, an eternally lazy procrastinator, enjoyed it.

     Itching to make another animation, I looked around for inspiration.  Luckily, I befriended Andrea Talarico of Anthology Books in Scranton, PA. As any independent, local business knows, publicity is key, so she agreed to let me make her a 30-second internet spot.

     My concept revolved around the idea that there's a book for all moods and seasons. I decided to convey the idea literally: show a cycle of four seasons with a new book for every frame.

      Being a lazy procrastinator, I decided against the whole "new book every frame" idea. There are 720 frames in 30 seconds. I was not about to gather 720 books. I decided to use the Rankin-Bass stop-motion method of shooting 2 frames for each movement, making the animation not entirely smooth but giving it a more handmade feel. That would make the entire project 360 frames. I figured having the book change every half-second was quick enough without inducing epileptic seizures. 360 total frames. Four seasons. Ninety frames per season. Fifteen books per season. I did all these calculations using math skills I haven't utilized since I was 12. I don't know how they were more or less correct.

     Using candy, cotton balls, and a Canon 7D,  I started the project, with much help from artist and girlfriend Jessica Ferrise. The rest of the 15-hour session is a bit of a blur. I remember back pain, exhaustion, and mass consumption of unused candy. Once the stills were taken, I began post work, including color correction, foley, titles, and a soft vignette around the frame. I chose the Vince Guaraldi tune "Cast Your Fate To The Wind" for the music because I love Vince Guaraldi, I love Peanuts, I love jazz, and I love the tune. Can't get any simpler than that.

   
Though stop-motion has been pushed aside for computer-made animation, there are still directors who love and use the method. Henry Selick's Coraline, Tim Burton's Corpse Bride, Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox, and Stephane Aubier & Vincent Patar's A Town Called Panic are all major stop-motion features made within the past ten years. Also still fighting the good fight for stop-motion is my friend and Philadelphia-based filmmaker Max Margulies, whose animated shorts are bizarre, insane, creepy, and all-around great. Check out his website, LBC Films.

- Tim