30 Days of Madness, Part II: Day 1 — Cartoon Noir
By Tom Kapr
Cartoon Noir is an anthology of six animated short films. They are clearly from different filmmakers from different countries and seem to have no unifying theme, so it actually feels more like a compilation than a true anthology, but if there is one quality that ties them together, it is abstractness. I don’t know if I’ve ever sat through 83 minutes of almost pure abstractness before, but I have now.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. I am often drawn to abstractness in short animation. The medium suits the abstract well, like carefully scrutinizing an abstract painting. However, even in short films, I tend to remember the ones that still had something approximating a narrative line. Madame Tutli-Putli is a great example of this. It has a clear forward-moving narrative style that slowly becomes more and more abstract, but what this does so well is to create a sense of mystery, dread, and, ultimately, emotional release. In fact, Madame Tutli-Putli is one of my favorite films of any genre or format.
The longer a film gets, the more abstractness tends to wear on me. Cartoon Noir is one that would work better if I went into it with the expectancy of watching six separate short films rather than a unified anthology. As it is, there is a lot of depressing material in these six shorts, though thankfully the final short ends on a more upbeat note.
Perhaps the best thing to do is to look at each short on its own merits.
The first short is a pleasantly brief bit of black-and-white animation called Estória do Gato e da Lua (The Story of the Cat and the Moon), by Portuguese filmmaker Pedro Serrazina. It is not black-and-white as you would normally think of in film; think more like black paint and white paint moving against each other, separating each other and coming back together to form shapes. This film unfolds with a simple poetic narration that gives it the feel of a children’s picture book come to life, and it is the simple kind of tale that would please a child (a cat chases the moon) yet contains themes of longing and growing old that should resonate with adults. As someone who loves good children’s literature, where simple language can convey profound truths, this is probably my favorite of the six films.
Next is Klub odlozenych (The Club of the Laid Off) from Czech filmmaker Jirí Barta. This is the one that stands out in terms of its medium because it features life-size mannequins coming to life. Stop-motion, life-size mannequins. This one starts off with a creepy feeling as the camera moves through a seemingly abandoned building full of mannequins. Then as the mannequins begin to come to life, it becomes more whimsical, with a touch of creepiness around the edges. These mannequins go through a daily routine that changes with slight variations, which is when the film becomes interesting. Unfortunately, things take a turn when new mannequins are introduced, and the film becomes burdened with too many themes and too much pointless weirdness, including what appears to be one mannequin raping another. I was happy when this one mercifully ended.
The third short is Ape by American filmmaker Julie Zammarchi, based on the poem by American poet Russell Edson. As soon as you see “Based on a poem by Russell Edson,” you know you’re in for some abstract weirdness. Some of Edson’s poetry connects with me, and some doesn’t. This is one that doesn’t. And the poor reading by the voice actors doesn’t help. A husband and wife argue about the ape they eat for dinner every night. For the man, it’s about being sick of eating the same old thing every night. For the woman, it’s about his suspicions of her infidelity… with the ape. I don’t even know what to say about that, so let’s just move on.
Polish animator Piotr Dumala gives us Lagodna (Gentle Spirit). As I was watching, I was thinking to myself, this feels like watching a Russian novel. I found out afterward it is in fact based on a story by Fyodor Dostoevsky. And when I say it feels like watching a Russian novel, I mean, it’s slow and drab and depressing. The only color is brown, and while it contains some interesting imagery, it’s terrible imagery that leaves one with a sense of hopelessness at the end. Not my cup of tea.
The next short is a fascinating one. Abductees, from English filmmaker Paul Vester, uses real-life video and audio recordings of people telling their stories of being abducted by aliens, and mixes them with a blend of different styles of animation depicting their fractured memories. And while it is one of the most interesting shorts I’ve ever seen, it also contains some horrifying imagery. However, it was a welcome respite from the incessant unpleasantness of the previous three shorts.
The final short is one of the longest and is also the most bizarre. American filmmaker Suzan Pitt‘s Joy Street shows a severely depressed woman drink herself into a stupor and, as we later find out, attempt to cut her wrists. As she lies unconscious on her bed, the cartoonish mouse from her ash tray comes to life and starts dancing around in the sort of free-form style that one might associate with the old Ub Iwerks animations. The mouse discovers the woman with blood dripping from the shallow cuts in her wrists. The colorful mouse grows into a giant grey-toned mouse and creates a river with its tears. Next is a sequence of the woman’s body floating in a river full of dead things. The giant mouse pulls her out of her bed and carries her to a park, where it somehow revives her into a very pyschedelic sequence of monkeys and various other creatures happily living in the trees. This short is an acid trip of animation, but at least it ends on a happy note.
Next up: Day 2 — Bug Me Not
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Tagged animation, Ape, Cartoon Noir, Czech cinema, Estória do Gato e da Lua, fantasy, Gentle Spirit, Jirí Barta, Julie Zammarchi, Klub odlozenych, Madame Tutli-Putli, Pedro Serrazina, Piotr Dumala, Polish cinema, Portuguese cinema, Russell Edson, short films, The Club of the Laid Off, The Story of the Cat and the Moon




























