MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS IN MAKING ANIMATED SCREEN PICTURES
Many of the striking ways of telling incidents of an animated cartoon
put one in mind of the pictorial symbols of primitive man. An example
is that of a vision appearing above the head of some one in doubt
or in a revery. Then there is the miniature scene floating over a
sleeper to tell that of which he is dreaming. These and other similar
forms are supplementary ways of explaining incidents in a screen
story. They are also used in the regular photographic film; but they
are specifically typical of the animated cartoon.
They are amusing additions to a film that are certain to please
whether used to apprise the audience of what is going on in the
character’s mind, or to explain the dream of a sleeper as he lies
abed.
There are several modes of creating any of these effects. The usual
way would be that of having the quiescent part, say it is a sleeper,
limned on the celluloid; and the details of the moving part, say the
vision, on three or five sheets of paper.
[Illustration: SYMBOLIC ANIMATION OF SNORING.
To effect this, the sleeper would be drawn on celluloid and the
pictures in the clouds on separate sheets of paper.]
Perhaps the humorist-artist wishes to make his picture a little bit
more telling by indicating, with appropriate onomatopœic consonants,
the sound of snoring. These additions can be drawn while the
photography is taking place on a blank celluloid sheet superimposed
over all the drawings in a way explained in a preceding chapter.
Symbols of musical notation and sound-imitating words are often
introduced into a screen picture. They can be made to dance in
rhythm, or at haphazard, by drawing them in series of three or so,
on celluloid sheets. These would be placed, one at a time, in their
order over the general scene and repeated as long as desired.
[Illustration:
Series of drawings marked _A_ show the screen effect desired.
_Below_: the elements representing it that are used with the simple
component—on celluloid—marked _B_.]
The employment of balloons—they have been alluded to before—is
a frequent one in comic screen work. They are the mouthpieces
containing the dialogue of the characters. Their outline, more or
less balloon-shaped, hovers over the heads of the speakers. The lines
defining the balloons can come into the scene gradually in a lively
way, and the dialogue itself can come in word by word. This latter
scheme itself suggests talking.
When the first animated cartoons were produced and an effect with
balloons was intended, the artist thought that he was doing well
enough if he showed the lettering and merely had the person supposed
to be speaking standing motionless. But now an artist who cares
enough for his craft to put as much business into the scenes as
possible will show the lips moving and the arms gesticulating at the
same time that the lettering appears.
There are innumerable things that the artist must think of while he
is photographing his drawings, and one of the weighty ones is to have
the lettering for any particular dialogue, or explanation, held long
enough on the screen for it to be read. Every studio has its own
special rule as to the number of separate frames of a film to allow
for a word. The only way to arrive at any conclusion as to how much
film to take for any sentence in a balloon, or on a title, is to have
some one read it and then time this reading. In this way the artist
will be able to tell how much to give any particular wording. He will
be able, too, after a while, to formulate his own rule with regard to
the matter.
[Illustration: A “CLOSE-UP.”]
A favorite method of telling something, or to hint as to that which
is to follow, is to have a character discovered reading a newspaper
upon which the item explaining the matter shows in an exaggerated
type. The design is usually enclosed within a circle with the outside
space a solid black. There is no special reason for using this
particular encircling design. It is a way often used. Technically it
is a good plan to employ this telescopic mat, as it may be called, as
its forcible contrast of solid black margin breaks the monotony of
the general uniform photographic tone of the rest of the film.
[Illustration:
To vivify this on the screen, little “model” hats are used during
the photography.]
An amusing occurrence sometimes brought into a story is that of
having a man’s hat fly from his head into the air and come down
upon his head again. Of course, the practical way of putting this
on a length of film would be that of having a little cut-out dummy.
The artist, however, takes the trouble of making several dummies of
the hat drawn in different views. A single dummy would show but a
mere mechanical turning, but by using several in different views, he
gets a very good similitude of actuality in the wind twirling the
hat around in a lively way. A little point to help the humor of the
situation is that of having the hat hesitate, as it were, and give an
extra spin immediately before it lands upon the head.
It isn’t always necessary for an artist to make a cycle or a series
of drawings for a movement. For instance, he is showing a rather
large face on the screen and it is intended that the eyes move. This
could be effected by drawings, but there is a much simpler way. The
places for the eyes on the main drawing are left blank and holes cut
out the size of these blank spaces. On a narrow piece of paper at the
proper distance, two eyes are drawn. This paper, with the eyes, is
slipped underneath the one with the drawing that has the eye spaces
cut out. Now the manipulation of this paper, holding the eyes while
in position under the face, is easy. The various positions in which
the eyes are placed, it is understood, will be photographed by the
stop-motion method.
[Illustration: “CUT-OUT” EYES.]
The true artist, in keeping with his talent for creative work, will
be disposed to devise helpful contrivances or expedients to lighten
irksome and monotonous details arising in this art. And in addition
to the possession of this talent, and that of good draftsmanship, he
must be quick in deciding on the best means of economizing labor,
so that he can spend more time where thorough drawing is needed. He
must, in short, in any particular case, put in as much work as it
requires and no more. By experience he will learn to know where to
slight—“slight” isn’t exactly the word, but it will do—the drawing.
With respect to this latter point, suppose there is some arm
movement, with the arm swinging as it does in a hurried walk. Hands,
it is certain, are difficult details to draw, and if they are
carefully rendered in all of the positions it would take a long time
to draw the entire series. But the experienced animator has learned
that at times he can, for some of the positions, every other one
perhaps, make quickly lined marks indicative of hands. These quickly
made lines, however, must be drawn in a way that will help the
action. Exactly how to make them and to what extent to “slight” them
is learned only by long experience.
[Illustration: For some quick actions, “in-between” drawings can be
slighted as shown in numbers 2 and 4.]
Often there is a question as to the number of drawings necessary for
a movement. If a hand, for example, is to be moved from the side of
the thigh to the head and then to touch the brim of the hat, one
single position half-way between the two extreme ones may do for some
swift action in a humorous cartoon, but if it is for a slower action
it should have at least three positions between the extremes.
[Illustration: ILLUSTRATING THE NUMBER OF DRAWINGS REQUIRED FOR A
MOVEMENT.
_Above_: for a quick movement.
_Below_: for a slower movement.]
But it doesn’t worry the skilled animator very much whether he makes
three, five, or even more drawings between the extreme positions
of any gesture or action. Nevertheless, while the artist is making
these arm movements he must put thought into the work. There is, for
instance, a certain matter with respect to drawing the relative axes
of the segments of a limb that requires reflective attention. To be
precise, suppose the action is to represent an arm moving from below
and pointing with the index-finger skyward. Now, in any directly
following phases of the movement the same degree of flexure at the
articulations must not be present in the drawings. The whole arm as
it hangs by the side, before the action begins, is nearly straight,
with very little bending at either elbow or wrist. In moving it
upward, it is not to be traced with this same relative straightness
and same degree of joint angularity in all the positions. It would
move then on the screen with the ungracefulness of an automaton.
Instead, the several drawings should have the joints—elbow and
wrist—at different degrees of flexure. Especially is this difference
to vary from one drawing to a succeeding one, with the angle at the
joint, just a little more, or just a little less. The whole matter
can be best comprehended if the artist, before depicting this
action, try it himself. Then he would see that if he moves the arm as
if it were a rigid thing, only hinged at the shoulder, the movement
would be false and not characteristic of a living organism. The
natural way is an unconstrained, easy bending movement. The animator
in his drawings slightly emphasizes this manner of moving.
[Illustration: ILLUSTRATING A POINT IN ANIMATING A MOVING LIMB.
_Above_: moving automaton-like with no bending at the joints.
_Below_: moving with various degrees of flexion at the joints.]
An artist shows his aptness for character delineation in the way in
which he draws the views of a face for turning it from side to side.
A graphic caricaturist of limited scope has a proneness for adhering
to a few stencil patterns, in the matter of pose, for his characters.
Front face, profile, and occasionally a three-quarter view make up
his catalogue of facial picturing. The animator uses this delineatory
trilogy, too, in the ordinary turning of the head from side to side.
But he must be skilled, besides that of portraying a face in these
views, in drawing it in any view. And a skill that is still more
needed is that of being able to keep the portraiture of a character
throughout any series of drawings.
[Illustration:
In turning the head from profile to full face, one drawing between
the extremes is sufficient for a quick movement. But when it
is desired that the action be “smoother” two more drawings are
required.]
To keep the features the same throughout a number of drawings it is
found advantageous to spend a little more time in the preliminary
planning when creating the original sketch for the character. The
idea is not so much to make a face that is easy to draw as to give
it certain distinguishing lineaments that are recognizable in the
varying positions needed in animating it.
Besides, when originating a face for frequent repetition in a
cartoon, seeking one that can be drawn quickly and easily represented
in any view facilitates the work of the tracers.
A little trick of comic graphic artists is that of making the
features of a face in small circles, or somewhat roundish curves.
This sort of thing is not conducive to good character drawing. The
animator also uses these forms—round eyes, circle-like nose, and
a circular twist in other parts of the features. Now in his case,
this can be forgiven, perhaps, when one considers the difficulties
of his art; for these particular forms are, as we shall try to
explain immediately below, easy to copy and trace. As in caligraphy,
unfixed and diverse in its qualities and peculiarities, so with every
individual in pen drawing, certain traits occur in the strokes. In
pen-and-ink drawing the more individual and distinctive the style,
the harder it will be to copy or counterfeit it. But if the markings
approach the geometric, definite and precise, then they are easily
copied and imitated. This is why the little circles and similar
curved markings are so frequently used in animated cartoons. There is
nothing ambiguous in the lineaments of a face made with saucer-like
eyes, and a nose like a circle. Its peculiarities are quickly
noticed, easily remembered, and traced with facility.
As has been explained, an artist rarely finishes an entire set of
drawings for a film without help, but has a staff of helpers. It
can be well understood, then, that an essential to success is that
the members of this staff keep the same quality of line in all the
drawings. One of the difficulties in a staff of helpers is that of
keeping a uniformity of portraiture in the characters. And because
the circular lineaments are easy to trace that is the reason why they
are chosen to form the basis for the details of a face.
[Illustration: Easily drawn circular forms and curves make for speed
in animated cartoon work.]
There is a tendency in every one, even on the part of the author of
the original model, to depart from the first-planned type of face.
The approved way of avoiding this is to have a set of sketches of
the characters drawn on special sheets of paper that are to be used
by all the workers to trace from. In a studio with numerous workers,
all rushing to finish a five-hundred-foot reel in every week, it is
the custom to have plates engraved from the original sketches and a
number of copies printed, so that all may have a set. With these
printed copies it will then be merely a matter of having a steady
hand and an ability to trace accurately from the copy on to a fresh
sheet of paper placed over the illuminated glass of the drawing-board.
No doubt, as it has been referred to so many times, it is clearly
understood now what an important part transparent celluloid plays in
this art. It is employed not only to save the labor of reproducing a
number of times the details of a scene, but also to help keep these
details coincident, or uniform. In a face, there is a certainty that
its lineaments will be the same if it is drawn but once on celluloid;
but if it is copied each time on a long string of successive sheets
of paper, there is a likelihood that it will vary and so give the
lines on the screen an effect of wiggling about.
There are many little matters of technic and rendering that arise in
this art. For example, in making certain parts of a figure, say a
coat, in solid black, it has been found best, instead of making it an
absolute silhouette, to indicate by the thinnest of white lines the
contours of the details. A sleeve, for instance, should be outlined
with such a white line. This seems to be a lot of trouble for so
little, but, judged by the result on the screen, has been shown to be
worth while.
At this point we can touch upon the question of what is meant by
“animation.” An artist with little experience may make a series of
movement phases for an action, but when the drawings are tested it
is found that they do not animate; that is, give in synthesis the
illusion of easy motion. It may be a matter of incorrect drawing,
perhaps, or he may have the drawings nearly correct, but he has
failed to make use of certain little tricks, or, shall we say, failed
to observe certain dexterous points in the technic of the art?
We will cite one little trick—humoring the vision, if one may put it
this way: have a spot, or patch, of black repeated relatively in the
same position throughout the series of a movement. An example is that
of having the boots of a figure of a solid black. The eye catching
the two black spots as they alternately go back and forth is deluded
with respect to the forcibleness of the animation even if the walking
action is not as correctly drawn as it should be. An added effect is
given to this illusory ruse if a tiny high light is left on the toe
of each black boot.
The final test for drawings for animation is, it stands to reason,
the result on the screen. One may, though, approximately find out
whether or not any sequence of drawings animate by flapping them in
a sort of way akin to the book-form kineograph novelty noted in a
preceding chapter. Two immediately following drawings can be tested
this way: with one hand they are held near one corner pressed against
the drawing-board, then with the other hand the top drawing is moved
rapidly up and down. In this way the two drawings are synthesized
somewhat, and if the action is delineated correctly there will be
some notion of the appearance on the screen.
This little experiment crudely demonstrates the phenomenon of
after-images and the operation typifies a simple synthesizing
apparatus.
A significant addition to a scene, if it is suited to the story and
consistent with the general plan, is to have some foreground detail
in front of the moving figure, or figures. This sometimes consists
of a rock, a clump of foliage, or a tree trunk. The contrast of the
inertness in these details gives an added force to the animating
that takes place back of their mass.
[Illustration:
Foreground details of a pictorial composition help the animator in
several ways. Their inertness, for one thing, affords a contrast to
the moving figure.]
This feature of a picture is drawn on celluloid that is placed on top
of the rest of the set having to do with the particular animation.
It is possible, though, for an artist, if he is dexterous, to fasten
this inert foreground to the under-side of the glass in the frame
which is pressed down over the drawings during the photography. The
foreground feature, of course, is cut out in silhouette and fastened
with an adhesive like rubber cement. This cement is an article of
great usefulness in a photographic studio; especially for temporary
use over drawings, as it can be easily rubbed off afterward by the
friction of the finger-tips.
Radically opposite in method to the scheme described above, in which
an inert object helps the animation, is the panorama. In this screen
illusion the figure, which is thought of as moving, occupies the same
position; while the landscape, normally quiet, is in motion.
Certainly we have all experienced the sensation, when seated in
a railway-train waiting for it to go, of suddenly imagining that
it has started; when, in fact, it has not budged. This simply
has happened: while occupied with thoughts not pertaining to our
surroundings—perhaps reading—we casually caught sight of a moving
train on an adjacent track, and as we were in the state of expectancy
of at any moment being on the move, we immediately thought that our
anticipation had been fulfilled. Even if, in a moment or two, we
realize that our senses have deceived us, it is hard to shake off the
first-formed delusion of being in motion.
Now the screen panorama is a similar delusion. We see near
the centre of the screen a figure going through the motions of
progression, but we know perfectly well that he is in the same place
all the time. And we know that the landscape is drawn on a band of
paper that is pushed along back of the figure. All our knowing does
not help us. In spite of it the little figure spectrally advances and
the landscape deceptively passes by as we know it does (visionally)
when we ourselves are running very fast.
[Illustration: MAKING AN ANIMATED CARTOON PANORAMA.
The figure is depicted in a series of movement phases drawn on
separate sheets of celluloid. These are used continuously, one
at a time, and in their proper order during the photography.
The landscape, drawn on a strip of paper, moves along under the
celluloid little by little in the direction of the arrow.]
The manner in which a panorama is produced is this: the landscape
is drawn on a long strip of paper; this is to be moved little by
little and photographed at each place to which it has been moved.
The figure that is to walk, or run, is drawn in the different phases
of action on sheets of celluloid. These are placed in their order
over the landscape during the photography. The separate drawings of
the actions of the figure were drawn so that the bodies remained
relatively in the same place, but the limbs, or heads, varied in
attitudes. The planning of the action in a figure for a panorama is
proceeded with in the same way as that for producing a regular walk
or run. One special care in the work, however, is this: the limbs
as they are sketched in their appropriate attitudes in the several
drawings must not have identical outlines. That is, explaining it
in another way, if all of the set are placed together over the
illuminated tracing glass, no two drawings should correspond with
respect to the positions of the limbs. The bodies in the drawings
should exactly concur in position, but if some attention is given
to the rise and fall of the trunk, as in a typical walk, the screen
illusion will be very much better. Slightly shifting it up and down
on a vertical would effect this.
The band of paper with the landscape is moved in the direction
opposite to that in which the figure is supposed to go.
The photographer has many things to think of while he is putting
this panorama effect on a film. He must move the landscape strip;
sometimes as little as one-sixteenth of an inch at a time; put a
celluloid sheet with one of the phases of the action in place, get
it in its proper order, and then turn the camera gearing to make
the exposure. In some special cases he will have another matter to
think of; namely, a second panorama strip to move, and at a different
speed.
This is when he wishes to give a little better representation of
verisimilitude than that produced by the single panorama strip.
Far-off moving objects, as we know, appear to go slower than those
that are close to us. We are aware of this in looking at a distant
airplane high up in the sky that we know is going very fast but
seems as though it is going very slowly. And at night an illuminated
railway-train in the valley below us, when we are on an elevation,
seems to creep along like a snail.
[Illustration:
ILLUSTRATING THE APPARENT SLOWNESS OF A DISTANT MOVING OBJECT
COMPARED TO ONE PASSING CLOSE TO THE EYE.]
To bring it to pass that a panorama have the effect of near objects
going faster than those that are distant, it is necessary to have two
strips of panorama details. One strip will represent the foreground,
which is to be moved much quicker, one-eighth of an inch, or so. A
second strip will answer for the distance, which is moved, about
one-sixteenth of an inch, or even less. If the foreground strip is
moved at rather wide intervals, the effect on the screen will be a
little like that which we see from the window of a railway-coach when
telegraph-poles and near objects seem to fly by.
The panorama strip for the foreground is designed with simple
elements so that it can be cut out in silhouette and laid over the
other one. With reference to the quality of the details of a scene
on a panorama; although it is usual to fill up the whole length with
items of interest, there must be observed some degree of simplicity.
Perhaps it might be best to say that there should be a subordination
in the details, even if they are numerous, and then have some
striking feature or object occurring every once in a while, to catch
the eye and so help the movement.
Objects, too, automobiles and other vehicles, are combined with these
panoramas. This brings us to the consideration of the matter of
animating wheels, or making them turn in the screen illusion.
[Illustration: Some distinguishing mark on a wheel is needed to give
it the screen illusion of turning.]
A wheel true and accurately adjusted and going rapidly gives—with
the exception of a blurring of spokes, if there are any—very little
evidence of rotation. It is only when it turns unsteadily, or when
there is some distinguishing mark found on or near the rim, that
we see plainly that the wheel turns. Sometimes it is a stain, a
spot on the tire, a temporary repair, or a piece of paper that has
caught in the spokes that indicates a turning of the wheel. Further
amplification is needless, as a glance at the vehicles, as they pass
in the roadway, will make clear. So the animator, when he wishes to
show a wheel turning, simply copies actuality by drawing a wheel
with some such feature as noted above. A mere black spot on a wheel
near the circumference is sometimes sufficient. It is usual to have
the wheels drawn on thin cardboard and cut out and fastened in their
proper places so that they can be turned. They are turned a little at
a time and photographed after each turn.
[Illustration:
To represent the hunter in sketch _A_ suddenly trembling with fear
as in sketch _B_, two drawings, 1 and 2, with varying wavy lines
are used alternately during the photography.]
PHOTOGRAPHY AND OTHER TECHNICAL MATTERS