A sack of presents for the eye, covering a wide range of techniques and narrative structures. By ROSEANNE LIANG.

HAND-MADE animation is the purest form of cinema when it comes to the auteur. When you make things frame by frame without any dilution from actors, crew, or production executives, the result can be astonishingly, remarkably, and sometimes disturbingly unique. Innovation within a traditional framework is alive and well in this year’s selection, with everything from blue painted blobs to an extraordinary live action/puppet hybrid used to sublime effect in this year’s Oscar-nominated finale piece, Madame Tutli-Putli.

Whether due to curation or the limited number of filmmakers dabbling in such a niche form, this year’s programme has its share of visually interesting, but conceptually meandering and narratively empty art films. For those looking for more substance to their animation programme than just eye-candy, having to sit through the blah-blah beauty to find the gems can get a little trying.

Musicotherapie (A.Isnard, M.Javelle, C.Picon/France/2007/6 mins)
What starts out as an whimsically empty conceptual film that wouldn’t look out of place on an afternoon kids cartoon line-up suddenly takes on a macabre and cheerfully perverse turn that justifies its placement in this programme rather than Animation for Kids. The cast of crazy bug-eyed animals and caricatured personalities (the noise-hating monkey is particularly cliché, which makes his messy end a relief) bop along a series of predictable setups to pleasing-enough rhythmic electronica before descending into frenetic and innard-rich madness.

Procrastination (Johnny Kelly/UK/2007/5 mins)
This conceptually sound stream-of-consciousness about defining procrastination through its specific manifestations is a mish-mash of stop motion and hand drawn techniques. From shifting books (procrastination is colour coordinating your shelf) to whirling lines of colour on black (procrastination is spending 30 minutes finding the right pen, 10 minutes getting the right pen to work), it is an idea well-executed and guiltily familiar to all.

Beton (Michael Faust, Ariel Belinco/Israel/006/7 mins)
Helmets hiding their faces, soldiers in green kill time in front of a huge grey wall until a black kite appears on its edge, from the other side. Clearly put out, they start by trying to block people from seeing it, but when that doesn’t work, they decide to shoot the crap out of it. While beautiful to look at, the ‘deep’ symbolism in this painted animation about the wiles of war feels overwrought.

The Old, Old, Very Old Man (Elisabeth Hobbs/UK/2007/5 mins)
Told from ye olde autopsy room, blotchy blue paint on white characterises this tale from England circa 1635 when a king was brought out of his “I’m so old” funk by the presence of a 152-year-old subject. The party thrown to celebrate his longevity eventuated in his ironic end. While the animation is crude and the story simple, one could simply answer the question “why turn this into an animation?” with “why not?”.

Running in Darkness (Alan Jennings/USA/2006/2 mins)
Pairing documentary audio with paint-on-glass abstractions, this illustration of people dealing with dementia in loved ones is worthy and poignant, but unfortunately, not engaging. Whether it’s the monotone of the subjects, or the experimental nature of the visual, or even the placing of the piece in the programme as a whole, I ironically found my mind wandering, even within two minutes.

Sailor Dogs (Joana Toste/Portugal/2007/8 mins)
Making sense of this hand-drawn animation about two dogs and their pet sailor is difficult at the best of times, but the immersion into Toste’s surreality is definitely pleasurable. Creating pathos for a little old captain pining for the sea is no mean feat, and the otherwise obvious switch-around of man and pet is rendered disarmingly poignant.

A Painful Glimpse into My Writing Process (Chel White/USA/2006/2 mins)
This film is less than 60 seconds long, with the credits running almost as long as the film itself. Similar to Procrastination (above), it illustrates a frustrated and keenly-written stream-of-consciousness voiceover that neatly packages the title into a frenetic barrage of well-made images.

Time Is Running Out (Marc Reisbig/UK/2007/6 mins)
A slow and unsettling pan across a dreary pre-apocalyptic landscape with recurring characters in various stages of undoing builds a palpable atmosphere of foreboding. Complemented with a grinding, eerie soundtrack and a narrowing field of vision that creeps up on the viewer, it is a successful exercise in on-the-brink disquiet.

Herr Bar (Clemens Kogler/Austria/2007/3 mins)
On closer inspection, this slick journey through a surreal landscape built entirely from (female) human body parts is actually an electronica music video. It’s great to look at, but it’s eye and ear candy, and nothing much more.

Herzurbeltzak, a Common Grave (Izibene Onederra/Spain/2007/4 mins)
Probably the most disturbing offering in this programme, Onederra animates a unique style of hand-drawn characters abstract enough, yet recognisable enough to cause a series of perturbing questions. Who is that lady and why are her legs wide open all the time? Why does she have that crazed grin on her face? What on earth is that dog-wolf thing doing to her nether regions? Is that Mickey Mouse doing… no! One is sure there is a message to the film, but what it actually is is overshadowed by the urge to shake those images out of one’s head.

Changing Evan (Steven Woloshen/Canada/2006/1 min)
Another handpainted, colourful abstraction that is reminiscent of Len Lye with its repetitive, rhythmic Count Basie riff. If one were taking the write-up at face value – apparently the film is about the filmmaker’s daughter getting chicken pox – one would be confused by the actual blotches, lines and squares that dance across the screen - but at a jaunty 1 minute, it doesn’t have time to get boring.

Sleeping Betty (Claude Cloutier/Canada/2007/10 mins)
This slick, more traditional 2D animation is essentially a punchline film that takes a fairytale and populates it with an eclectic cast of royalty past and present (Henry VIII, Queen Victoria) and the odd 12-eyed alien. Why? Well, because it can. ‘Fun’ seems a good all-round description for the film, with gibberish dialogue breaking the language barriers and popular culture puns being thrown left and right, from traffic signs to superheroes. It’s not particularly deep, but it’s pleasing all the same.

I Met the Walrus (Josh Rashkin/Canada/2007/5 mins)
Once again, the illustration of a stream-of-consciousness dialogue – this time from the late great John Lennon, as interviewed by an idealistic (and probably star-struck) 14-year-old – provides a cohesive slice of life. Lennon’s meandering views on peace are given both the literal and cynical present-day treatment, and while his oft-held-aloft ideals still feel fervent and true, the rushed opportunistic nature of the interview, and Lennon’s tone of distracted celebrity (evidenced when talk of changing the world turns instead to his luggage) betrays a sneaking boredom, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Well-crafted visuals with a collage of live action and clean retro style round out an interesting film.

Madame Tutli-Putli (Chris Lavis, Maciel Szcerbowski/Canada/2007/17 mins)
As usual, the best is left until last with this fittingly jaw-dropping tale of a woman on a mystery train. The technique of marrying live action eyes with beautifully hand-crafted puppet stop-motion is astounding both in logistics and effect – eyes are indeed windows to the soul, and once we look deep into the ones of Madame Tutli-Putli, we are lost in the narrative, and forget to ask ‘how on earth did they create such an extraordinary visual technique?’. On researching the film afterwards, the pioneering and seamless mixture of natural movement and stop motion is achieved through ‘every trick in the book’, thrown in to benefit every aspect of the spooky story, from the rising panic to the bird-like survival instinct of the main character. It’s a pity that the form of the film means that less people will see it – it is an unparalleled audiovisual triumph.