Odd, isn’t it, how the marketing of a film involves both the precise identification and targeting of likely audiences, while at the same time trying to maximise its appeal to the broadest possible market. Focusing and defocusing in one go. How wide of the mark this effort can sometimes be.
Now if somebody had said to me a few months ago: “Here’s a story of an unconventional mouse who’s either too stupid or too brave to react instinctively to cats and the rest of the hostile elements in the world” I’d have thought “ORLY?” So what?” Another movie, another trope.
However, If they said: “Hey, Guess what! Someone has managed to grasp all the unresolved* dynamics of late 17th Century Dutch classicism and plug them into modern day CGI animation”, I’d be all ears. And eyes.
Look at these stills from the Despereaux trailer, then compare and contrast…..
(Click these images to enlarge them, please)
My guess is that the credited production designer, Evgeni Tomov, (Triplettes de Belleville) has had a big influence on the look and feel of this modern take of a classical fairy tale. That’s what production designers do, after all.
There’s often turmoil and conflict in the pre-production stages of an animated feature, and I don’t doubt for a moment that The Tale Of Despereaux has been exempt from the usual artist-versus-committee versus money men infighting that so often generates a hobbled and compromised artistic vision.
My own whiskers go all a-twitch when I see the cheese in this shot below. This is cartoon cheese! There are very few, possibly only four cheeses in the non cartoon world that naturally generate holes in their structure. One of them stopped doing so about 15 years ago, for reasons that are still not wholly (sorry) understood:- Emmental, and the other three are Jarlsberg (whose roots only date back to the 1850’s), Maasdam (created in 1984), and Leerdammer (invented in 1976). The bacterium Propionibacteria shermanii is mostly responsible for the holes. Apparently, ( and turn away if you are a bit squeamish) one ton of Jarlsberg cheese is consumed every hour, (guess where).
It makes you wonder if the director, Rob Stevenhagen, (a notorious Dutchman) , might not have swung a bit of nationalist influence in the crucial cheese hole production meeting discussions.
What’s for sure is that (cheesy issues aside) that there is a very strong visual influence from the Dutch classicists of the epoch 1650 - 1700. It’s all a bit golden if you ask me.
Voiced by some 18 year old.
This last picture is inserted here to try and justify one of the main arguments of this blog; I.E. That cinema has now picked up the unfinished business that painting was about to deliver in the period just before the arrival of photography. That was the moment when several centuries of hand made cultural excellence were wantonly shoved aside in favour of machine made representation. Now, ironically, the machine made image has made a 180 degree turn, and now feeds off the creative fruits left dangling a century ago.
Test the validity of this idea by looking at this picture by Frans van Mieris the Elder. He painted it in 1658. Then decide if his aim was uncannily similar to a modern day render wrangler working at Framestore CFC. (the company who made Despereaux) To quote: ”
This smooth, precise manner of painting was Van Mieris’s trademark. He was one of the so-called Leiden fijnschilders (‘fine painters’). This small panel, painted early in his career, is one of his largest and most detailed works. The various materials and fabrics have been rendered with a realism that is well-nigh unbelievable. Not a single brushstroke can be discerned with the naked eye.
One big difference: Note the behaviour of the two dogs in the lower right of the canvas. There’s none of that in Despereaux.
*(They couldn’t do focus pulls, much as they wanted to).
9 Comments
Good one, and the mousetrap was not invented until 1894 in Illinois, and the self igniting match would have to wait until 1805, but they are still all in this movie. It’s the sort of thing that gets Limbolos blood boiling…
Sputnik
@Felix Sputnik: Thanks, Felix. Good research! Maybe we can become boiling blood brothers? Please point out any more anachronisms you find. They are mostly welcome, as a friend of mine says.
Hey texticle man, You must do a blog about Hollywood CG fascism.
Wall-e just got a 96% freshness rating on Rotten tomatoes, and, while the positive reviews that mostly describe it as the greatest man made thing ever to be produced, rack up 0 comments, those critical or even just lukewarm about it get showered in abusive heaps of comments, being told why they can’t justifiably hold their opinion.
I believe there is no finer mind than yours to analyze this phenomenon and find out why it is more likely these days to be beaten up for saying you don’t like a Pixar movie, then for claiming the moonlanding was a hoax.
Looking forward to what you have to say…
Sputnik
The animation looks beautiful.
Princess Pea looks like your typical (f) Dutch student.
@Felix Sputnik: Deeply thoughtful response coming soon!
hmmm..the scale of the cheese has always bothered me…but hey..and what’s wrong with sleeping in an old sardine tin and rolling the lid back like a blanket anyway..don’t ALL mice do that?
on a serious note michael..the emerald green that seems to be somewhere in each shot ..is that typical in paintings of this period?.
mr-d*
webexhibits.org@gary dunn: I’ve only seen the trailer so far, and without seeing more of the film, I’d guess that the light green is an extension of Princess Pea herself. (Pea Green?).
I can’t immediately lay my hand on my copy of Max Doerner’s excellent treatise, but there’s a good website that deals with the history of pigments in art here: http://www.webexhibits.org/pigments/index.html
Any good to you?
@Felix Sputnik: The only thing that I could suggest is that film, and especially animated film, is above all a medium for the broadcast and sharing of fantasies. Now there are many people in the world whose reality has not lived up to their early expectations, who then turn to fantasy to give them satisfaction, fulfilment and affirmation in their lives.
This sense of validated identity is best enjoyed in the comfort of a group of like minded peers, such as the R(otten)T(omatoes) amateur critics, who have all invested heavily in the same shared values and are bonded in the same love of fantasies. A bit like animators, really.
They are likely to reject anything that opposes their shared group ideals, even if it’s (from an outsider’s point of view) a trivial criticism, because the importance of subscribing to the group’s values overrides any individual’s personally held opinions.
We as film artists must recognise ourselves as a merry band of fantasists too, for we are if anything even more dependent on the fantasies of film, because we need to make our living by creating and dramatising the fantasies.
The interesting dynamic lies in the difference between the two groups. One bunch (Group A) creates the fantasies, and the other lot (Group B) consumes them. I’d suggest that the two groups will forever have wildly different agendas, and you shouldn’t be surprised, really.
We earn money from peddling fantasy, while fanboys have to pay money to consume our products.
In the end, the success of any film depends on its acceptance by the audience, and we have to have a deep enough understanding of the audience’s needs to supply a satisfactory experience that will keep them happy and us rich… (Laughter) OK: Paid.
Animated films are mostly targeted at an audience of people wanting to experience a simple escapist fantasy that will transport them away from the complexities of life, and reconnect them to the mythological core of our culture.
The RT fanboys reflect and represent the audience’s desire for incontrovertible simplicities, and their comments and pack attacks aren’t meant for our ears or eyes at all.
They’re just spreading the group glue.
OK, Now throw tomatoes at me!