INTRODUCTION
The Second Golden Age of Animation
You students today are extremely fortunate to be living in a time that many people refer to as the Second Golden Age of Animation. You should now bend down and kiss your Wacom tablet, laptop, computer workstation, or whatever you use to create cartoons in eternal thanks for being born in a blessed time for animators. As for myself, I will kiss my ancient wooden drawing table and light box.
The First Golden Age of Animation lasted from around 1930 to 1956 and pretty much coincided with Walt Disney’s rise to power, but then Walt got bored and directed his energies to television, live action, and theme parks.
In my opinion, this era created some of the most wonderful characters ever: Mickey Mouse, Goofy, Popeye, Betty Boop, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, the Road Runner—and great films: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Bambi, Song of the South, Dumbo, “Red Hot Riding Hood,” and “The Great Piggy Bank Robbery.”
Jobs in animation were plentiful. Because no one studied animation in school and there were no graduate programs, most early animators were political or humor cartoonists looking for extra money. Suddenly, because of Disney, these part-time cartoonists became superstars, going from studio to studio and project to project, and each time they changed jobs, they got a big bump in pay—kind of like today’s superstar athletes.
However, for many reasons, the period from the late 1950s to the 1980s became the Death Valley of animation. I think the prominence of TV animation killed off the great cartoons. All of the Hanna-Barbera and Rankin/Bass series showed that animation didn’t have to cost as much or use as many great artists. Also, movie theaters decided to cut back on showing short films before the main features. So all of this great reservoir of talent were forced to either retire or work on Hanna-Barbera’s crap.
MTV LOGO: ART FOR MTV 10 SECOND PROMOTION, COLOR PENCIL, 1988
Things then mysteriously changed. For some strange reason, by the mid-1980s, animation started to wake up. The art form finally passed through the arid desert of TV cartoons and arrived in the lush valley of the Second Golden Age of Animation. I believe it was just a happy accident that all of these great influences came together in just a few short years.
MTV started showing animation in the 1980s; Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was a huge hit. Japanese animation, including Akira and Hayao Miyazaki’s films, started to invade American shores. The Disney studio decided to get back into animation with films such as The Little Mermaid and The Rescuers Down Under, which were both moneymakers. And of course, The Simpsons showed that TV animation could be biting and controversial—and not just for kids.
I believe one main reason for this huge animation revival was an audience ready for an art form that took their minds into a whole new realm of imagination. After years of true-to-life, hard-core, politically relevant films, the audience was ready for magic and fantasy, and animation was the only art form that could take the viewer to different worlds so easily—luckily for you, dear readers, because animation is now ubiquitous and extremely profitable. In 2010, five of the top ten grossing films were animated: Toy Story 3, Despicable Me, Shrek Forever After, How to Train Your Dragon, and Tangled.
Animation studios are starting up all over the world—India and China are making a big push to overtake the United States in animation production, and France and Germany are putting government funds into animation production. Everyone all over the world sees the financial success of Pixar, DreamWorks, and Blue Sky Studios, and they want to emulate these studios’ stupendous profits.
What does this mean for young animators looking for work? Money! Not just jobs, but opportunities to create stories that are different, exciting, and moving. And that’s what this book is about: how you can be part of this never-ending (I hope) explosion of animated cartoons. This book, I believe, will ably prepare you to be a creative and successful participant in the Second Golden Age of Animation.
This question may be the most important one in this book. I do a lot of press interviews, but I’m never asked this question: “Why do I make animation?” I believe that a person’s answer to this question has a great bearing on his or her success or failure. There are numerous answers; in fact, there are almost as many possible answers as there are animators: money, awards, approval from family and friends, stardom, self-esteem, creative outlet, childhood fantasy, and so on. They’re all valid reasons.
But I will now give you my (numerous) answers:
1. Boredom—I find it very entertaining and amusing to create cartoons; it keeps life interesting.
2. Fear—Fear of failure, poverty, and unemployment. A wasted life.
3. The sound of laughter—I love making people laugh; it gives me a great feeling, knowing that I’m responsible for people’s enjoyment.
4. Playing God—The high I get from spending all day creating whole worlds from my imagination.
There are other reasons, of course, but those are the main ones.
I often talk to students who believe that once they get a job at Pixar, they’ll be rock-star rich. That’s fine, but I’m not really in it for the money. In fact, I make my own sandwiches for lunch—I’m not a gourmet, just give me food to keep me drawing; all of my clothes are secondhand; I don’t have a car; and I don’t do drugs—all of my profits go into my next feature film.
For me, the biggest reason is that I love to draw! I sometimes draw all day, from 6:00 in the morning to 10:00 at night—and after these all-day sessions, I feel great! Refreshed! Like that was the best day of my life! I’m reborn! I don’t exactly know why, but to me drawing is an exercise in self-discovery—I’m trying to see how good I can get and to experiment with how interesting I can make my drawings and my story.
Gourmets are obsessed with what they put into their mouths—I love what goes into my eyes; you could call me a visual gourmand.
I think that if I were ever arrested (though I can’t imagine what for) and thrown in jail, I would thrive there. I’d finally have some peace and quiet to draw my films. If I did a five-year stretch, I’d emerge from prison with two feature films completed—how cool is that? I’d be the happiest guy in prison.
In fact, I’m so obsessed with the pencil that I fantasize that I will die because of the pencil. I plan out little scenarios of my death. Perhaps I’ll be drawing such long hours that I fall asleep at the drawing board, and my head falls to the table, with the sharp end of the pencil piercing my eye and going into my brain.
Or perhaps I’ll be walking across my studio, I won’t see the pencil on the floor, I’ll step on it, my feet will slip out from under me, and I’ll crack my skull on my art table. Or after working late one night in bed, I’ll fall asleep and roll over, piercing my heart with a discarded pencil.
Ironic, isn’t it? It’s like they say: “You live by the pencil, you die by the pencil.”