The Purpose of Dialogue
Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, the Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote (Chuck Jones) were masters of clarity of movement to communicate story without words. Often animated shorts are devoid of dialogue because we don’t necessarily need dialogue when we have the ability to exaggerate actions, emotions and reactions, push strong poses and use visuals that are more powerful than words. In fact, we are always encouraged to show, don’t tell.
However, there are times when your characters need to speak. The audience needs to hear what they have to say in order to maintain the suspension of disbelief, to communicate internal conflict, or to condense and drive the plot.
In Eric Drobile’s The Animator and the Seat, Chunk, the animator, is trying to escape from his office by climbing a bookcase when his chair grabs him, pulls him down and forces him back into his seat. Chunk cries out, “What do you want from me?!” It is exactly what all of us would do in his situation. If he did not speak at this moment, it wouldn’t seem real. It also helps to drive the plot forward. After this line of dialogue the chair responds by showing Chunk exactly what it wants.
“What do you want from me?!” Eric Drobile, The Animator and the Seat, Ringling College of Art and Design
Other times it is the character’s goal that requires speech. In The ChubbChubbs, the fumbling, good-hearted, helpful hero, Meeper, wants nothing more than to be a respected karaoke singer. In order to sing, he must also speak.
“Sock it to me! Sock it to me!” The ChubbChubbs, directed by Eric Armstrong, Sony Pictures Imageworks
“Hey Friends!” The ChubbChubbs, directed by Eric Armstrong, Sony Pictures Imageworks
“Why can’t we be friends?” The ChubbChubbs, directed by Eric Armstrong, Sony Pictures Imageworks
“A little respect!” The ChubbChubbs, directed by Eric Armstrong, Sony Pictures Imageworks
And sometimes it is not what you say, but how you say it. In A Great Big Robot from Outer Space Ate My Homework, Mark Shirra uses nonsense language to communicate both the desperation of the boy (Bertie Lated) and the disbelief of the teacher (Miss Spleen) as Bertie tries to explain why he doesn’t have his homework. But what they say is not as important as the attitude, intonation, pacing, and the passing of the dialogue between the characters. Because of this we still know exactly what is going on.
Shirra said this about his dialogue:
The dialogue was meant to be largely visceral gobbledygook with the occasional comprehensible word thrown in. When I recorded the voices, I pretty much made a lot of it up as I went along, but I had storyboard drawings to look at so I knew what needed to be said, even if in an abstract way!
“Beep! Beep! Beep!” Mark Shirra, A Great Big Robot from Outer Space Ate My Homework, Vancouver Film School
Similarly, Chris Nabholz’s Respire, Mon Ami is intentionally composed in French. It sets the mood of the piece. Intended for a primarily English-speaking audience, the subtitles create anticipation, suspense and control the timing of the release of information.
“Let me help you with that!” Chris Nabholz, Respire, Mon Ami, Ringling College of Art and Design
The Purpose of Dialogue
In this chapter, we are going to define the functions that dialogue serves in a story so that you can choose when and how to use it well. Then, we see how these are put into practice in a dialogue analysis of the short script, The Captain, by Christianne Greiert and Nick Pierce.
Setting the Mood
A short can begin with dialogue:
- A mother singing a lullaby
- A man yelling at the top of his lungs
- Children telling jokes, playing and laughing.
- A bank teller counting money.
All of these things could almost be defined as ambient sound—the same as wind through the trees, or street sounds and sirens in a city—except for the fact that what the mother is singing, what the man is yelling, which jokes the children are telling, how much money is being counted should have specific meaning that drives the plot forward, foreshadows the theme of the piece or establishes a story question. How can a good mother sing heavy metal to her newborn infant? The man is yelling for HELP! What does he need and will he get it? Where did little children learn jokes like those?!
Sometimes dialogue can change the mood. Perhaps there is a boxing match on the TV in a bar. As a fight breaks out in the bar, the boxing match escalates and the voice of the sports announcer seems to be narrating the conflict in the bar instead. The point is that everything that is said in your piece, whether it is background or foreground information, has meaning. What we hear as background information can also set the mood.
Revealing the Character
When dialogue reveals the character it means that what the character says discloses his goals, personality, needs, fears and transformation.
There are four main ways that dialogue reveals character:
- It reveals a character’s goal or motivation.
Robber: “Money will fix everything.”
- It reveals a character’s attitude toward a situation.
Robber: “Isn’t it a little late for this?”
- It reveals the antagonist’s motive.
Robber: “No one told me there were four guards.”
- It can reveal a character’s transformation over time.
Robber: “Maybe tomorrow.”
Driving the Plot Forward
When dialogue drives the plot, it does so by acting on the train of thought and emotions of the audience or reveals information to the character that forces him to act.
There are five main ways that dialogue drives the plot forward:
- Creates curiosity
Robber #1: “Did you bring it?”
- Creates tension (through the exchange of power—social, political, sexual, or physical)
Robber #1: “Are you sure you picked the right place?”
- Creates conflict by presenting new information
Robber #2: “No, I’m not sure. My mother would be so disappointed in me.”
- Shows us something we did not expect
Police: “We’re here to check on a disturbance.”
- Builds suspense for what is to come
Bank Teller: “We’ll be closing in ten minutes.”
Robber #1: “What now?”
Driving the Resolution
When dialogue drives the resolution it implies, reinforces or reveals the theme of the piece. Review the section on themes in Chapter 1. Remember how often, in films, the characters remind us of the theme of the piece through dialogue.
Robber #2: “Getting a job would be easier than this!”
Creating Subtext
Subtext always seems like a difficult concept. But if you link it to emotion it becomes relatively easy. One of the biggest pitfalls of dialogue is that beginning writers mirror exactly what the character is thinking with what they are saying. Don’t do this.
“I used to like bears.”
Eric Drobile, The Animator and the Seat, Ringling College of Art and Design
At the beginning of The Animator and the Seat Chunk is tired and needs a break. He doesn’t say, “I’m so tired. I think I’ll take a break.” Instead the audience sees mounds of soda cans and empty coffee pots (not cups … pots!). Chunk sighs, “I used to like bears.”
And the audience is given the opportunity to view what he has been forced to spend hours animating. His simple phrase, coupled with the visuals, communicates it all in a much more powerful way. He is tired. He does need a break. But we don’t have to hit the audience over the head with the message.
As human beings we rarely, if confusingly, say exactly what we think—and this is because of emotion. Remember that in story, our characters are in conflict and there is something at stake. Therefore, emotions run high. Characters tend not to say what they think because it is either a) too risky or rude to say what they really think or b) the other party already knows what they think.
Look at the simple script below. In this situation, two people are meeting. They used to date. Character A wants to make up. Character B does not. The dialogue itself is benign, but the internal monologues of our characters are emotionally charged.
Dialogue |
Internal Monologue |
A: Hello. |
I am so happy to see you. I miss you so much. I hope this goes well. Please be pleased to see me too! |
B: Hello |
I can’t believe I agreed to meet you. Don’t look like such a puppy dog! |
A: How are you? |
Oh no. She doesn’t seem receptive. But she’s here. Maybe I have a chance |
B: Fine. |
This is a mistake. How do I make him go away? |
A: Really? |
She doesn’t want me here. |
B: Yes. |
No. |
This is subtext. Subtext, in dialogue, is saying one thing, but meaning another. We understand the true meaning of the words through the situation, intonation and the physical interaction and gestures of the characters.
Using Narration
Every time a narrator speaks it is like interrupting the story. Make sure that everything that is said is carefully chosen to move the plot forward and/or condense time without confusing the viewer or giving away too much information. You want to make sure that there is a balance between your narration and your visuals. Too often, the visuals become an illustration of the narration. You can remove the visuals and still have the complete story. We work in a visual medium. The narration must support, but not dominate the visuals. If you find yourself in this situation, find another execution for your story—or maybe find another story.
There is a difference between narration and voiceover. In Forrest Gump we have narration that reveals the inner thoughts of the character as he looks back on his life. In Poor Bogo, we have voiceover that adds another dimension to the situation. In this short, a father is trying to get his little daughter to go to sleep by attempting to end a bedtime story. But the daughter continues the story. Instead of seeing these two characters we watch the storybook character play as the daughter expands the story and react as the father tries to end it. We hear one conflict, but watch another.
“After all his adventures, Bogo was so tired he went right to sleep…” Thelvin Cabezas, Poor Bogo, Ringling College of Art and Design
“Oh no, daddy, Bogo is not sleepy, he is hungry!” Thelvin Cabezas, Poor Bogo, Ringling College of Art and Design
Sometimes the audience needs some set up, or exposition. Instead of using a narrator, the characters themselves can often reveal this information, acting as a narrator, but without breaking the flow of the story.
Moongirl by Laika Studios is a dialogue-driven piece. In Moongirl, Leon is a boy from the bayou that likes to fish. He uses fireflies as bait. One night he is taken to the moon where he meets a girl and learns how the light for the moon is sustained. At one point in the story, a creature called a gargaloon steals the jar of lightning bugs. To Leon they are just bugs. But Moongirl explains, “No, Leon. Without fresh lightning bugs, we can’t relight the moon. And without moonlight, there’ll be no romance—or dreams.” This is an example where the character narrates and reveals complicated and necessary information that both the audience and characters need to know but might otherwise be hard to show. Leon doesn’t really care about romance or dreams, so Moongirl has to make it meaningful for him. “There will be no more night fishing!” And this line drives the plot.
Leon and Moongirl, Laika, Inc.
Tempo, Pacing, Rhythm, Intonation and Timing
Early in the chapter we looked at the use of dialogue in A Great Big Robot from Outer Space Ate My Homework and Respire, Mon Ami. Because they use other languages, they are good examples to compare the tempo, pacing, rhythm, intonation and timing or the dialogue in relationship to the content and emotion of the piece.
Listen to them. Try to graph the rise and fall of the intonation of the voices. Pay attention to pacing and rhythm of what the actors are saying as the conflict rises. Focus on the silences in the scene. Silence can punctuate a line of dialogue, enhancing both the emotion and impact of the scene. Silence allows your audience time to comprehend what your characters are saying. Silence allows time for other characters to react. Too often beginning animators seem to fear silence when creating dialogue. They do too much, too quickly and without time for the dialogue to support the emotion of the scene.
When creating dialogue write down what you want your characters to say. Then record it a number of different ways. Take the script away and improvise the dialogue. Have many different people do it for you. If you are lucky enough to have a college or theater in your area, see if you can hire an actor to improvise your dialogue for you. It is amazing how much the voice and interpretation of the words can enhance your animation and help you determine the extremes of your poses.
Notes on Music and Sound
Music and sound do not play the same role as dialogue. As Sonia Moore said, “The words are like toy boats on the water.” They reveal the underbelly of the emotion of the character. And sometimes, if the acting is good, the words are irrelevant.
Music and sound, however, play the role of supporting characters. If you do not pay as much attention to the development of the music and sound as you do to the development of your story and hero, it can make or break your piece.
For every footstep, glass clink, pencil tap, rain-on-the-window, and element of your piece that makes noise, you must find or create that sound. You must also create the sound of the environment, the ambient sounds of nature, the city, fluorescent lights in an office, and diners in a restaurant. There are many copyright-free sounds available on the Internet. Make sure that your sound is copyright-free and that it is truly the right sound for your piece. If you need the bark of a German shepherd don’t compromise or substitute the bark of a greyhound. Someone will know the difference and it will break your suspension of disbelief.
Too often beginning animators are more interested and experienced in image-making than in creating sound and music. They will find a piece of copyright-free music that fits the rhythm and pacing of their animation and lay it underneath the visuals. Simply finding music that matches the pacing of the piece is not enough. The music must mirror and support the emotional rise and fall, the intensity of the rising conflict as the piece progresses. If it does not, the music flattens those moments and can actually do more harm than good.
The very best thing to do is compose custom music. If you are not good at composing music, find someone to do it for you. As much as you need to get your animation out there to help your career, musicians and actors need to get their talents out there as well. Usually for a nominal fee, credit, and a copy of the finished piece (with permission to distribute on their portfolio), you can find people to help you.
Dialogue Analysis of the Captain
We can find almost all of the purposes of dialogue except narration in this script for an animated short, The Captain.
Script: The Captain by Christianne Greiert and Nick Pierce |
Purpose of Dialogue |
LOCKER-ROOM SCENE |
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Characters: Coach Charlie Max |
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Concept: There is no “I” in T-E-A-M |
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Premise: Charlie, the team captain of the Fighting Lions, has an injury that will keep him from playing in the championship game. He must learn what it truly means to be a leader. |
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FADE IN. |
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INT. FIGHTING COBRAS LOCKER-ROOM |
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Two players sit on benches near their lockers suiting up for the big game. The wall to the front is lined with school banners and pennants from years gone by. There is a trophy case with only two trophies and a series of team pictures. Offscreen there is a band playing, crowds cheering. We hear cheerleaders chanting “T-E-A-M. Gooooo TEAM!” |
Exposition: “Go Team!” Establishes the theme, sets the mood of the piece |
COACH: (Clapping his hands excitedly) Alright! Alright! Ten minutes till game time, men. Everything you’ve got—put it on the field tonight! |
The coach plays the role of the herald, bringing information to the story. This inserts the narrator into the story without breaking the story. |
Coach and most of the team exit except for Charlie and Max. Charlie is only half-dressed, while Max laces and unlaces his shoes. Max is stalling. |
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CHARLIE: (Sitting in a warm-up suit with a towel around his shoulders) Nervous? |
Sets mood, establishes emotion of characters. |
MAX: Um … not really. |
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CHARLIE: (Standing up quickly) You should be. We’ve been waiting for a championship for the last four seasons. |
Reveals character. Establishes external goal. |
Charlie opens his locker, tossing his towel inside. He is clearly irritated. |
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MAX: (Finishing tying his shoelaces) OK, what’s crawled up your shorts, dude? |
Inciting Moment: Drives plot. Establishes internal conflict. |
CHARLIE: Nothing. I’m just saying this is a big deal and you need to be ready. |
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MAX: I’m ready … You know, I didn’t choose to start. |
Conflict: Drives plot. Heightens conflict. |
CHARLIE: Well, I didn’t choose to bust my knee, either. Life’s not fair—not today at least. |
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Hangs up the towel and starts to straighten the things in his locker. |
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MAX: Is that your idea of a team captain’s pep talk? |
Reveals Charlie’s role. |
CHARLIE: Nope, not doing it. |
Reveals character. |
MAX: So you don’t get to play and it’s “forget about the rest of us”? We’ve all worked for— |
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Charlie slams his locker door. |
Reveals character. Drives plot. |
CHARLIE: All I can do is cross my fingers and hope some second-string sophomore doesn’t screw it up. |
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MAX: Whoa! What’s wrong with you? Before you, when a ball flew at my head—I actually ducked. And now, when all I want is to do half as well as you could, you cut me down? Thanks. |
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Coach reappears, clipboard and playbook in hand. |
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COACH: Alright guys, game time. We’ve been working for this all season. OK, Max, you loose? (Starts to rub MAX’s shoulders) Warm? Feeling quick on your feet? Remember, the left side of the defense—there are some holes there. |
Breaks tension. Allows plot to stay on course. Refocuses on the game. |
MAX: Yeah, I got it Coach. (to CHARLIE) I’ve got some warm-ups to do, see you out there. |
Subtext |
Max exits throwing Charlie a disdainful look. Charlie turns back toward his locker. None of this gets past the coach, who sighs and shakes his head. |
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COACH: Charlie, I hope you’ve got some words of wisdom for these boys, they need it. See you on the sidelines. |
Drives resolution. |
Coach pats Charlie with the play book and exits. |
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CHARLIE: (Punching his fist into a locker) Aargh! What the hell am I going to do now? No speech. No knee. No hope for a trophy. After four years—this is not how I thought it would end. |
Crisis Moment: Drives the plot. |
Coach reappears. |
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COACH: Charlie, will you get out here? This punk of a sophomore goalie won’t start until you’re there. He’s saying he needs your blessing or something like that. |
Drives resolution. |
CHARLIE: What? |
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COACH: You’re still the captain, Charlie. Get out there and act like it. |
Climax: Drives resolution. Reveals theme. Throws Charlie into his point of no return. He must make a choice. |
Charlie watches as the door slams behind the coach. Grabbing his jersey, he pulls it on as he limps out the door. |
Resolution: And we celebrate. |
END SCENE |
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FADE OUT |
Exercise: The Captain was written for a group project. If you were working alone, how could you condense the role of the coach into the character of Max? How could you alter what Max says to serve the same purpose?
On first read, The Captain would appear to be better for live action than for animation. Brainstorm visuals that would make animation the necessary medium for this story. What if the main characters were not people? What is the game they are about to play? How could these emphasize, change or put a twist on what it means to be a team or a team leader. What is Charlie really leading his team to do?
For example, without changing a single thing in the script you could make the characters Lions (it’s the team name) and place this in the Roman Coliseum during the time of Caesar. Takes on a whole new twist, doesn’t it?
Summary
Dialogue serves the following purposes:
- Sets the mood of the piece
- Reveals the character
- Drives the plot forward
- Drives the resolution
- Creates subtext.
There are two things to watch out for when you use narration:
- It can interrupt the story and break the flow of your piece.
- It is easy to “illustrate” the narration rather than create unique visuals with meaning of their own.
Music and sound need to be treated as supporting characters to the story:
- Too often new animators use music and sound as filler instead of carefully building sound and music to support the content and rising conflict of the piece.
Often animated shorts do not have dialogue. There are times when your characters have to speak in order to be truthful to the story. Understanding how dialogue functions allows you, as a storyteller, to use it well.
Recommended Reading
- Linda Seger, Creating Unforgettable Characters, Chapter 1: Writing Dialogue
- Will Eisner, Graphic Storytelling
- Gloria Kempton, Dialogue: Techniques and Exercises for Crafting Effective Dialogue
- Robin Beauchamp, Designing Sound for Animation
Note
The purpose of dialogue in this chapter comes from a condensation of the sources above coupled with experience working with beginning animators to develop story. It doesn’t cover everything about dialogue, but provides the basics necessary to begin. Use the sources above if you find you need to go deeper.
The ABCCCs of Voice and Dialects for Animators: Ginny Kopf
Ginny Kopf is well known throughout Florida as a voice, speech and dialect coach for actors and singers. For over 25 years she has been a college and acting studio instructor in Orlando, currently teaching at Seminole State, Valencia College, and L.A. Acting Workshop. She has given thousands of workshops nationally and has done extensive coaching for Disney and Universal Studios, and for numerous theaters, drama departments, films and television series. She holds a Masters degree in theater voice and an MFA in vocal science. Ginny has authored two audiobooks, Accent Reduction Workshop and S Drills, and her textbook, The Dialect Handbook, has received international recognition.
Q: What is the importance of finding the perfect voice for a character in an animated film?
Finding the perfect voice for the character you’ve drawn on the page will complete the transformation of making him, her (or it!) leap off the page and come to life. Through exploration, you want to create a voice that not only fits the look and personality of the character but is also compelling and thrilling to the listener.
Sometimes the voice is an archetype, or even a stereotype: a voice we’d fully expect coming from a person, creature, machine, or inanimate object. But sometimes you want to give the character a voice that is opposite of what the audience expects: a fearsome, scary-looking dragon with a sweet, soft voice, or an adorable, fuzzy bunny with a dark, gruff voice. It all depends on the effect you want to make on the audience, and the style you’re going for—comedy, irony, satire, suspense, or maybe the element of surprise.
Just as your pen and brush pioneers the page, you can explore what your voice can do. Play freely and fearlessly. Try all kinds of things with your amazing vocal instrument. To get you started in the right direction, here are some vocal tips. The ABCCCs of voice and dialects for animators are: contrast, consistency, and clarity.
Contrast
Character voices that contrast will be ear-catching and will expose the characters’ differences. Even if they are brothers and have the same dialect, they need to contrast to show their different personalities. Pairs need to contrast so we don’t get them mixed up. Explore contrasts in pitch range (high, medium, low notes), tone quality (breathy, scratchy, nasal, whiney, pushed, richly resonant, etc.), rate (slow to fast speech), inflection (their melody, from monotone, to conversational, to using a very enthusiastic, wide, sing-songy range), rhythm (smooth to choppy), and diction (quite intelligently articulate, to casual, to sloppy speech, including dialects and accents), and volume (loud to soft). Play with different mouth shapes, tongue positions, jaw positions. Get some help learning dialects so you have an arsenal of some really useful ones that are consistent and natural.
Be very specific with your choices. Know exactly what you’re doing with your voice for each character. Literally map it out, not leaving it to chance: write down next to the character’s name what you are planning to do with their pitch range, tone quality, rate, inflection, rhythm, articulation, any dialect, and volume.
For each character, be sure to change your body language (facial expressions, particularly the eyes, posture, gestures, head moves, manner of walking or moving around) when you are voicing for them. You must stay on the axis of the mic when recording, but still must change your body language. This specific choice for body and facial positioning will be the trigger to help you quickly flip from one character to the next. Change the body to change to the next voice. Thrust the neck forward for the nerdy professor, pull it back for the grouchy pirate, strain up for the talking giraffe, down for the shy mouse. Hunch over for the bear, arch your back for the bird. Changing the eyes is particularly effective to change the voice: squint for one character, open them wide for another. Other eye choices are eyes that dart around, a hard stare, soft romantic eyes, lazy half-closed eyes. Memorize the exact body language and facial expression for each character and write it down next to their character name, each time they re-enter. Then you will be achieving not only contrast of characters, but our next technique: consistency.
Consistency
Once you’ve established a voice for the red-headed soldier, when he comes in twenty minutes later he must sound like the same guy. This is consistency of character. You must develop a good ear and good muscle memory to have a number of consistent voices. Changing your body language for each character and knowing exactly what choices you’ve made for each voice is a great start. That’s why mapping it out and writing it down will be so important.
Each character must also be consistent in terms of staying in the same pre-determined “style” (whether action-adventure, comedy, mystery, satire, or even a style you’ve invented). Carefully pick the appropriate vocal style you’re going for, from naturalism to highly exaggerated, just as you do with the drawing, and then stay in that style throughout.
Consistency also means you must score out how characters within the same family, species, and locality would speak. It has to make sense, and not be forced. Unless you can justify it in the script, you don’t want the audience thinking, “Why is the son speaking in an American accent when the rest of his family is speaking in a heavy Scottish brogue like the rest of their village?” Or, “Why is that tiger the only one with the British accent?” And don’t choose a funny or funky voice or dialect just because you can know how to do it. The point is not how clever or skilled or amusing you are: it’s about telling the story through the characters. You don’t want the voice to call attention to itself, at the risk of the audience’s mind wandering away from the story to think about how cool you sound.
Don’t have too many wild and crazy dialects or voices either, or the audience can get confused. If they have to think too hard, to decipher characters, and muddle through a sea of audial overload, they will lose the storyline.
Clarity
This is an absolute. The audience must be able to understand you. What good is a funny or provocative character voice or thick dialect if they can’t understand it? This means you must work hard every day to get your articulation up to speed. It won’t happen just by thinking about it. In order to get your mouth wrapped around all the different dialects and character voices you are doing, your tongue, lips, and jaw must be able to move like an Olympic gymnast. So read aloud every day, do tongue twisters, read Dr. Seuss books, repeat road signs, sing. You want there to be an ease and fluency in your enunciation, especially for fast-talking and highly intellectual characters. Don’t try to talk too fast. Stretch out the stress words, or it will all run together. And keep your volume up, not fading out at ends of lines or you’ll mumble.
Any dialects you do should be light enough to be understood by a wide range of listeners. The “authentic” or “street” dialect of a region may not be clear enough. Bring it back. Get a dialect coach’s help to make it light, consistent, and natural-sounding, while still quite clear. The same goes for if you’re inventing your own language in a piece.
If the audience doesn’t completely understand the speech of a new character that comes in—if they have to work too hard to listen and decipher your speech—they will click off and just watch the pretty pictures go by. They will miss the story. They will miss key plot points. And all is lost.
The bottom line is always about telling the story. The story unfolds through the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions as they work through conflicts in a particular locale. The voices augment and reveal the storyline.
So, be clear, be consistent within the character itself and within the style and locale of the piece, and aim at contrasts. Lastly, my friends, be bold. Often a voice actor thinks they are using a character voice and it isn’t a bold enough or clear enough choice. Be fearless in exploring what your voice can do, to bring those characters leaping off the page to brilliant life.
Creating Music to Support Narrative: An Interview with Perry La Marca
Perry La Marca is a Film Scoring instructor at California State University Long Beach. He is also an active film and television composer, orchestrator, songwriter and music producer whose credits include feature film scores (Area Q, Big Game, The Morgue); programmatic music (The America’s Cup); and numerous radio and television commercials. He has also contributed additional music to animated productions such as Balto 3 and Disney’s The Buzz on Maggie, Kim Possible and American Dragon: Jake Long.
Q: Sound, including music can make or break a short film. What does a director need to think about when selecting and creating music to support the narrative?
Perry: Really, there are several issues and I’ll try to list them in the order of importance:
First, find an intimate and unique relationship to the story. The music chosen or composed needs to fit on both a superficial (relating to certain visual aspects) and a contextual level. It may also make sense to have the music convey a sense of time and place. For instance, if the project takes place in a certain locale, the music can convey that. If it takes place during a certain period in time, the music may be able to suggest that as well. There are many different angles by which a director and composer can approach how music will complement the project. In any given scene, the director needs to be able to communicate to the composer not only what is happening in the story but also what emotion or subtext the director wants the viewer to comprehend.
At times, these two ideas can run in perfect alignment—where the music contributes directly to what the viewer sees and/or feels. At other times, the music can contribute something less direct or even counter to what is taking place on the screen. It can also play a different layer of the piece. For example, there are times when the viewer may know something about the story that the characters don’t yet know, so the director may want to enhance that aspect through the scoring process. This is why it is so important for the director to be able to communicate exactly what he/she wants to say and to understand at any given point, what the most important emotion is. Consequently, it’s important to choose a composer who has a good dramatic sense, not just one who creates the kind of music a director happens to like or thinks would be appropriate for the piece. A truly good composer is always trying to find a way to simultaneously make some sort of organic connection with the viewer and contribute something that isn’t already being stated on a more superficial level.
Second, consider your target audience. As music can really help to draw empathy from the viewer and also help to hold their attention, some consideration should be given to demographics. Even if the music is trying to purposely convey something incongruent to the story, or an ethnic or periodic style, a good composer will attempt to find ways to creatively incorporate stylistic elements relative to the demographic of the viewer. This can often lead to a score sounding somewhat eclectic (hence, unique) and more closely tied to the project.
Third is tempo. This is more of a consideration for individual music cues rather than the overall score. A great deal of consideration ought to be given to the tempo of the music and its effect on the scene. If the music is running faster than the action in a scene, it can help push it along or heighten the tension. However, composers should use caution not to overplay their hand and cheapen the moment. If it’s running slower, especially in an action scene, it can slow it down or force the viewer to think about something other than what they are seeing at a given moment. There are many fine and effective examples where the composer chooses to play music that reflects the overall story as opposed to mirroring the action.
Lastly, if the music runs in sync with the speed of the action, the viewer will tend to experience both elements simultaneously. This can have a cumulative effect on the impact of the scene.
Q: Could you name a few examples of the above tempo strategies?
Perry: Off the top of my head, it would be difficult. I know I’ve employed these techniques many times in the past—especially in some of the work I’ve done for Disney TV Animation. Certainly, one would find usage of these techniques in any serious action picture and in comedy—especially older comedies where a composer might keep the music light and comedic, even under seemingly serious dialogue. The main idea is that it is a dramatic technique—employed through the language of music— a director can utilize to control what he/she wants the viewer to experience at any given moment. By having the music play something incongruent to what the viewer sees, you either divide or shift their attention. This is primarily done when a director wants the viewer to focus on a larger or more macro idea than what is being presented visually at that particular point in time.
Q: What is the advantage of working with a composer as opposed to using generic copyright-free music you might find on the Internet?
Perry: The advantage of working with a “composer” is that his/her contribution will be unique and exclusive to a particular project. You won’t hear the same music in something else down the road. This alone can lend great value to a project. Along with that brings the opportunity to create music that subtly blends with the dramatic momentum and direction of the piece. The greatest contribution music can make is to help enhance the emotional experience for the viewer. This happens most effectively when the music can get under the surface of the piece, perhaps play subtext, play from multiple dramatic points-of-view at the same time, etc. This is rarely accomplished with a piece of library music. Especially in terms of certain types of animation, it would be very difficult to hit everything visually and also play elements of the story without specifically designing that piece of music for the scene.
Q: Would it help if the animation is timed/edited using a beat structure? Or a temp-track?
Perry: If the scene is an action scene, it can be helpful if it is cut to a specific tempo as that will allow the music to hit certain points more organically. However, a skilled composer can often adjust the tempo and meter structure of the music without having it feeling unnatural. Sometimes too, it is better if the music doesn’t really hit anything but rather serves as the dramatic pulse for the scene, helping to hold the energy and/or tension at a certain level.
In terms of temp-tracks, while many composers have a disdain for them, I think they can be a valuable tool—especially when either the director or composer is less experienced. If a director is unsure of what music would be most appropriate or effective for a piece or scene, he/she can lay some pieces of existing music against the visual and judge how well it works. Likewise, a composer can demonstrate different musical points of view to a director without having to go through the effort of composing several audition cues. The most important concern is that both parties understand and agree upon what the tone and point of view of the score should be prior to the investment of time and other resources. After this exploratory work is completed, the composer can use the temp-track as a guide to determine the appropriate musical style and tempo as well as noting where the music should shift dramatically and what moments need to be addressed. Directors should refrain from asking a composer to directly replicate moments in the temp score as this would constitute copyright infringement.
Q: How would an animator find someone to compose their music?
Perry: If the animator is in school, they should look to the school’s music department. Even if they are not currently studying, most local universities have music departments that have composition or even media composition programs. These composers (and their faculty) are often very enthusiastic about the collaborative opportunities borne by these kinds of projects. This is also a good way to go as the composers will have someone more experienced to turn to (their professors) should the process become difficult. Also, the composers will quite often have friends who are very fine musicians that they can recruit to perform on the score. Even having one or two live players on an otherwise synthesized score can add so much life and emotion to the music—which, in turn, will have a positive effect on the dramatic impact of the piece.
Q: And what if you are not a student or associated with a university, where could you find composers?
Perry: I’ve seen several of my composition students obtain projects by responding to classified listings, in both trade magazines and online sites. Going this route will provide an opportunity for a director to hear music from several composers before making a choice. Nowadays, it’s not even necessary for a composer to live in the same city or state. However, I would caution any director not to make a decision based solely upon a musical preference. It’s very important to choose someone you can connect with on a social and intellectual level and who can demonstrate an understanding of what your film is about. A good composer should be more concerned about the dramatic effect and momentum of their music than what kind of music should be used to accomplish that.
Additional Resources: ideasfortheanimatedshort.com Under Designing for a Skill Set/Working in Collaboration, you will find an interview with student director George Fleming and student composer Stavros Hoplaros, who discuss their collaboration developing a musical score for the short, The Hoard.