To infinity and beyond: The enduring appeal of stop-motion
In 1995 Toy Story burst onto cinema screens, apparently heralding the end of stop-motion as an art form. That proved not to be the case, and Not to Scale director Anthony Farquhar-Smith examines the ongoing appeal and artistic merit of stop-motion animation.
I had just left college and started working professionally in stop-motion when Pixar released Toy Story.
Everyone told me, "well, that’s it, you’d better start learning about computers because you’re going to be out of a job."
What is it that has caused this cinematic art form to endure so long and made its audiences come back for more?
But, somehow, thirty years later, stop-motion has defied the increasingly digitalised odds and is still as appealing to audiences as it has ever been. What is it that has caused this cinematic art form to endure so long and made its audiences come back for more?
Above: In 1995, Toy Story apparently heralded the death of traditional stop-motion animation.
Animation is embedded in the DNA of film, and stop-motion is rooted deep into its history. Cinema was born in the early 1890s, and the first stop-motion film is generally accepted as The Humpty Dumpty Circus by J Stuart Blackton, in 1898. Blackton animated his daughter’s circus toy set, bringing the inanimate performers and animals to life over a hundred years before Pixar did.
The directors Steven Spielberg, James Cameron and Peter Jackson have all stated they would not be in the filmmaking business without the inspiration of these films.
As the film industry grew, stop-motion thrived, not only in its own right but also as a vehicle for special effects. From the 1933 masterpiece King Kong through to the films of Ray Harryhausen in the 50s and 60s, stop-motion provided a solution to crafting monsters and scenarios that could not be created in real life. It was the tactile materiality of stop-motion that made it sit so well with the live-action it was complimenting and cast a mesmerising spell on its audiences all the way into the 90s.
The directors Steven Spielberg, James Cameron and Peter Jackson have all stated they would not be in the filmmaking business without the inspiration of these films. Ironically, it is probably because of their experimentation with new technologies that stop-motion began to disappear from visual effects.
Above: A scene from J Stuart Blackton's 1898 film, The Humpty Dumpty Circus, generally accepted as the first stop-motion film.
But stop-motion was an engaging film genre in many other areas. From the dark, surrealist films of Eastern Europe that had their origins in puppet theatre and fairy tales to the more colourful TV shows and adverts coming out of the United States and Europe, it was used in all forms of filmmaking to entertain both adults and children alike.
Many of these influences are apparent in Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas in 1993, a film which adopted the video technology of the time to help the animators create emotionally engaging performances. Stop-motion has always embraced developing technologies, trading film for digital cameras and, more recently, utilising sophisticated construction techniques like 3D printing to create ever more intricate sets and puppets.
[Wes Anderson] realised that the human touch, the crafted imperfections that come from the model making and animation process bring a deeper emotion and humanity.
Burton’s Corpse Bride was the first stop-motion film to be shot on digital cameras, but it was another live-action auteur, Wes Anderson, who tapped into the unique quality of stop-motion for his Fantastic Mr Fox. He realised that the human touch, the crafted imperfections that come from the model making and animation process bring a deeper emotion and humanity to the scenes, especially when the characters are animals.
Above: Wes Anderson tapped into the unique quality of stop-motion for his film Fantastic Mr Fox.
More recently Guillermo del Toro made his stop-motion Pinocchio, embracing a technique that he has been championing for years - his debut feature was to be stop-motion but had to be cancelled when the studio was burgled and the sets and puppets destroyed. But for him there was no other way to show the essence of the story, an inanimate wooden puppet coming to life, except through stop-motion. The animators became Geppetto, literally bringing Pinocchio to life.
Above: Guillermo del Toro embraced stop-motion for his version of Pinnocchio.
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then stop-motion should be very flattered indeed. More and more we see CGI mimicking the fundamental qualities of stop-motion. It tries hard to replicate the textural quality of the real world and plays with frame rates to imitate the staccato movement of stop-motion. For me, this mimicry seems to show that CGI is aware that there is an elusive quality it can’t achieve on its own.
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then stop-motion should be very flattered indeed.
Stop-motion is full of painstaking craftsmanship. Unconsciously, the audience is aware of the effort and skill that went into the construction of the sets and puppets. Because it brings to life real objects, on some level our brain grasps that they tangibly exist, and this imbues a true magical quality when we watch it. It reflects the imperfections of life and often invokes some sense of nostalgia in the viewer.
And what about its future? It continues to feature in all areas of filmmaking, and two out of the five nominees in both Animated Feature and Animated Short at this year's Oscars were stop-motion. In the way that Toy Story was perceived as a threat to stop-motion when I began, we are now looking at AI as the new perceived threat in the animation world. Will stop-motion defy this new digital development? Come back and ask me in thirty years.