HOW SHOULD ANIMATION BE PROMOTED?

It occurred to me while writing the boardgame post that I never really liked to play boardgames, even as a kid. What I really liked about them, and the reason why I rifled through them so often, was the promise implicit in the packaging. The promise was that I was in for wild, unspeakable adventure and excitement. I think my whole life was influenced by these promises.
The same promises were made by film trailers and posters for circus and magic shows. "You have to SEE it to believe it! It's the WEIRDEST thing your eyes have ever beheld!" Gee, I love that kind of rhetoric! It addresses itself to the fear that we all have that we'll lead lives of quiet desperation, passing through life without ever tasting real adventure. Ad-makers and promoters know all about this fear. I see them as philosophers who prompt us to change the world to make it more exciting. We should aim to eliminate quiet desperation just like we eliminated smallpox.

How should animation be promoted? Just like the posters promote the projects above! We should use every trick of rhetorical and visual hypebole to promise mystery, excitement, humor and adventure. When that's done, we should break our backs to deliver on the promise! I like the formula that's implicit in the Clampett cartoons: begin the cartoon in such a way as to promise a lot...then deliver even more!

POETRY CORNER AGAIN!

Here's a poem I liked when I was a kid. It's the poem that used to be on the inside of the box of the boardgame, "Clue."

What amazes me about those old boardgames is how successful they were in creating a mood and an identification with the characters. Haunted house and crime games actually gave me a creepy thrill. I thought the games were assembled in real haunted houses which had to be vacated before dark. A Yogi Bear game actually made me feel that somehow Yogi existed and was pleased to know that I was playing his game.

I missed the golden age of board games, which I think was in the 30s and 40s, but I can get a sense of them from museums and antique stores. They were designed to create a whole world when the box was opened. The graphics on the inside of the heavy lid, the weird proportions and textures of the trays, even the weight of the playing pieces was somehow important. A lot of thought seemed to go into giving the user a sensual rush on opening the box.

I saw a 30s Mickey Mouse cel painting kit behind glass in an exhibit on Wilshire. You won't believe this but the inside of the box actually conveyed the real atmosphere you'd encounter in an animation studio. In fact it was BETTER than the real atmosphere! How did they do that!?
Anyway, I'm running out of space. Here's the poem that gave me shivers when I was a kid:

ALL IN THE GAME
by Suzanne Weaver

THE FAMOUS ASS CAKE PICTURE

Well, here it is, the famous Ass Cake picture! The picture was taken at Bob Clampett's house in the early eighties. It was Bob's birthday and John Kricfalusi and Wendell Washer had conspired to make this truly one-of-a-kind present for Bob. The heart shape is actually two Sarah Lee cakes shaped into buttocks with licorice for hairs and a real pair of butcher shop bull testicles to represent...well, to represent testicles. The cow tongue represents...er...a tongue! Bob loved it! I, in my red and white Uncle Eddie costume, took the picture.
It's worth commenting on John's expression (detail, above) in this picture. This is my all-time favorite picture of John. He's ecstatic! I don't know if a human being can look happier than he does here. And why not!? He's in the home of his hero, he's surrounded by friends and he's got his whole career ahead of him! It was a magical night. I swear, you could feel the electricity in the air.

WARNERS SHOULD RELEASE "COAL BLACK" ON DVD

Have you ever wondered why black characters in recent cartoons are so badly drawn? The ones above are from Clampett's "Coal Black" in the mid 40s and they're drawn great, but take a look at the ones from modern cartoons like "Bebe's Kids" and "Boonedocks"....Arrrgh! What happened?




I really don't know what happened but I'll make a guess.
"Coal Black" was considered racist by some critics and was taken out of circulation. Later artists, many of whom had never seen Coal Black, were forced to reinvent the wheel and come up with a whole new way of drawing funny black people. That's a tough problem. When I try to draw a funny white guy I can reference Elmer Fudd and dozens of others. I don't have to start from scratch. I can reference a tradition. Artists who try to reference the tradition of funny black drawings have a door closed in their face.

Let me make it clear where I stand about racial issues. I can't stand racists or racism. I would never do anything to promote racism. But even I can see that that the ban on Coal Black is handicapping the development of funny black cartoons. History will never forgive us if we let the hip-hop era slip through our fingers without comedic comment. Warners doesn't have to put Coal Black on TV but it should at least make it available on DVD where artists, including black artists, can get hold of it.

IS YOUR CLUTTER UNARTISTIC?

I don't know about you but I judge another artist's worth entirely by the quality of the clutter in his house. I don't blame an artist for having clutter, that's normal, but an artist's clutter should be...what's the word I'm looking for.....artistic!


Even insurance salesmen have clutter but the difference is that our clutter is ..."heightened!" We know how to create interesting piles. Our piles lean in interesting ways and contain challenging shapes and colors. Even our kitchen utensils hang in a stimulating way.


My advice to artists who are talented but somehow never acquired the ability to make interesting piles is to hire a pile advisor right away. Don't procrastinate! You may already have lost jobs due to your inattention to this area! For the convenience of artists who live in L.A. I'll mention that I'm open for consultation but I warn you that I don't come cheap and I must have classical music and occassional saltines while I work.

HOW I ALMOST BECAME A MOVIE STAR (PART III)

OK, so there I was in the casting director's office with one of my buck-toothed clones. The director said she wanted us to go outside into the hall and think of a sketch we could do by way of an audition. My heart almost stopped! Audition!!!???? I thought I had the job because of favoritism! What's this "audition" stuff!? We were supposed to knock on her door when we were ready to perform. I was shocked! Only ten minutes before I had the part sewed up because the star liked me...now I was expected to prove myself??? "Prove???" You mean merit!?? How could that be? How could the universe be so cruel!?

Out in the hallway I asked my clone if he had any ideas for a sketch. He said he didn't, that he'd leave it up to me. I frantically pieced together a story from old comedy ideas I had and I ran every bit by him . He OK'd each part in turn and when I asked him if he wanted to change anything he assured me that it was fine just the way it was. We knocked on the door and the director leaned back in her chair and said, "OK, entertain me!"
My clone had the first line so I waited a moment while he prepared. I was kind of proud of myself for coming up with such a funny opening line, something about a guy asking me if I'd mind watching out for him while he changed his pants in the middle of traffic. Finally the clone looked up gravely and slowly said the line from hell that I'll never forget........."Uncle Vanya, what were talking about is the inadequacy of society to meet the demands of self, and this inadequacy is revealed by the gardener's social maladaption, which can only be pointless, is that not true!?" I was white as a sheet. Self what?

With quivering lip I pretended he gave me the pants line and I said something like, "You mean change your pants in the middle of traffic? Why that's rather unusual isn't it?" the clone looked at me like I was crazy and replied with something about death being the root of all godliness. I was mortified, reduced to a quivering pile of jelly. The clone was quoting something from somebody like Chekov! It had nothing to do with what we agreed on! I was a dead man!

My knees started shaking and my whole body trembled. I couldn't remember any more pants lines. From what seemed like far away I heard the casting director thank us and tell us to send in the next two clones. Shaking like a blender full of rubber I turned and slowly dragged myself out the door. As I plodded barely conscious through the waiting room a bunch of clones studied my shaking and tried to imitate it. I paid no attention. I passed shaking into the parking lot and into obscurity knowing that I had just lived the worst day of my life.

Well, there's more but I have to be brief so I'll end it there. Now you know the story.

Story copyrighted by Eddie Fitzgerald, 9/10/06

HOW I ALMOST BECAME A MOVIE STAR (PART II)

So there I was! My buck teeth and the persistance of Dom Deluise had landed me a part in a major film! Life was good! The film was still in pre-production while the set was being constructed and I didn't worry about the role I was going to play because I knew I had it locked in.

One day I got a summons from the casting department. Nothing strange about that. I used to have a desk there and they were probably mad because I forgot to clean it out. I casually walked across the lot and to my suprise, before my eyes could adjust to the interior light, I was pushed into the waiting room of the casting director. What I saw there was absolutely the strangest, most disturbing thing I'd ever seen in my life!

Lined up on chairs all around the waiting room were clones of myself. Every one of them looked just like me: receeding chins, big noses, big ears, buck teeth, similar clothes...it was like looking into an endless mirror! Not only that but someone tipped them off that I was the original and they were all imitating me!!!!! If I scratched my nose eight clones scratched right along with me! I can't begin to tell you how weird that was! I forgot to say that when I last talked to the director he'd taken a Polaroid of me. He must have given it to the casting director and she must have scoured the town for clones who were professional actors! Thus the room of me!

I don't have the bandwidth to finish this. Sorry but I 'll need a part three to end it. Do stay tuned because there's an unexpected twist and the story gets even weirder!

Continued next time! (copyright 9/8/06)