The Miracle of Mystimation

The lovely and talented Else, proprietress of Latent Twist Spatterdashery, introduced me to a most enchanting film a few nights ago: Vynález zkázy, a.k.a The Deadly Invention, a.k.a. The Fabulous World of Jules Verne.

Now I'm no stranger to Czech animation; given my love of puppets, stop-motion, and surrealism, it's unsurprising that Jan Švankmajer is among my favorite filmmakers, and I've seen my fair share of others, from Jiří Trnka to Jiří Barta. But I'm sad to admit I had never heard of Karel Zeman, who is considered to be one of the fathers of the genre.

This film, released in 1958, was absolutely spellbinding. Zeman artfully blends live actors with sets painted to look like Victorian woodcut engravings, stop-motion animation, miniatures, and special effects to create a whimsical world like none I've ever seen. Indeed, the posters for the American release sell it as "The First Motion Picture Produced in the Magic-Image Miracle of Mysti-mation!"

The resulting hybrid of real actors adventuring in a two-dimensional world is just incredible. And as if the visual effects and textures alone weren't magic enough, the story is filled with fantastical mechanical wonders: pedal-powered blimps piloted through the skies, four-legged mechanical underwater fighting machines, a steam-powered villain's lair inside a volcano, and hand-crank picture-wheel projectors.

Apparently this film was shown frequently on television in the sixties, along with another of Zeman's features, on Baron Munchausen (!) ~ and its influence is clear. Terry Gilliam's early animations come to mind immediately, and I am also reminded of the recent Ramona Falls video that I so adored. But I truly can't begin to describe the wonders to be seen in this film, I simply urge you to find and watch it.

It can be found in parts on YouTube, and indeed, one can even buy it on DVD, although it doesn't appear to be getting the Criterion-Collection-treatment it so richly deserves. You can even track down a making-of documentary about Zeman's special effects. As for me, I'm off to track down every other film Karel Zeman made, to devour them with relish.

Pretty and Dirty Together ~ Scott Radke

I cannot recall what Interwebs chase led me to the work of artist Scott Radke, but I am absolutely transfixed. His sculptures are creatures from another reality, unraveling strange stories to enchant me.

(Tutu #1, 2009)
It's the faces that are most striking. With the most subtle hint of a crease, a sideways glance, a slight turn of the mouth, Radke creates poignantly expressive characters.

(Untitled Egg, 2009)
I am reminded of the human-faced sphinxes of MirrorMask, and also a bizarre Dreamcast video game called Seaman that obsessed my husband for some time, where one is obliged to care for a creepy half-fish-half-man. What is it about animals with human faces that makes them both so compelling and so disturbing?

(Octopus, 2010)

Like the beasts in Spike Jonze's interpretation of Where the Wild Things Are, Radke's creations embody the most raw of feelings, the very roots of emotion. Angst, frustration, boredom, jealousy, bliss... all play out in the textures of their features.

(Swan #40, 2009)
What are their stories? What has befallen these fragile creatures, with their stirring human-like faces and organic beastly forms? What gives them such sturm und drang, such beautiful fragility?

(Hats #3, 2009)
I read a 2006 interview with Radke where, when asked where he got his inspiration from, he replied, "something pretty and dirty together," and I understood. His creatures are the perfect marriage of both the lovely and the ugly, the tragic and the comic, the playful and the serious.

(Koi #1, 2009)
See more of Radke's work on his Livejournal blog, Flickr stream, and his Web site.

Things that Please Me: Crankbunny

In need of some whimsy to cheer an otherwise gray day yesterday, I turned to puppet-maker and animator Norma V. Toraya, also known as Crankbunny. In a world of overwhelming technology and frenetic multi-tasking, there's something comforting in the mechanical simplicity of her paper treasures.

Like the red bloom framed above, all of Crankbunny's beautiful pop-up cards are an art-form unto themselves ~ my most lusted-after being the Secret Decoder Card, where she will add a hidden message of your choice to be decoded by the lucky recipient.

But it's her paper puppets that tug my heart-strings. I want to scamper about inside her world of vintage-looking and oddly vulnerable creatures, her sad factory robots and thirsty zebras and winsome monkey-ladies...

Like so many craftistas that inspire me, Crankbunny's devotion to the details is incredible. She says she makes every card with her "tiny little marshmallow fingers" ~ and at over 3,000 sales on Etsy, that's a lot of wee bits of paper to cut out and assemble. And if you're wondering *why* she makes handmade goods, watch this lovely short film she animated.

Now you know! Want more? Visit the Crankbunny Etsy shop, or check out the new book she's just published, Paper Puppet Palooza.

On Etsy, you may even watch one of her puppet-making how-to's, or read her Featured Seller Interview, which is quite sweet and quirky. And of course, check out her Web site and blog.

Now go buy handmade!

The Wild Rumpus!

It's been some time since I've sat through an entire film beaming from ear to ear, but last night I left the theater giddy from the brilliance and purity of Spike Jonze's new interpretation of Where the Wild Things Are.

Not to raise anyone's expectations to unhealthy heights, but set aside all that buzz, rumors of poor test screenings, and the anxiety about the corruption of a classic book, and this is an stunning film in its own right.

Jonze perfectly distills the pathos of childhood, and in particular the challenges of being a creative and intense child, without trivializing it. Though the Arcade Fire song that made the trailer was conspicuously missing from the film, the score by the phenomenal Karen O creates a sublime backdrop of frenzied raw emotion. And the Wild Things themselves, massive monsters made by the legendary Jim Henson's Creature Shop, are surprisingly sympathetic and compelling.

Though the film may not mirror the book exactly, author Maurice Sendak approached Jonze to take on the project and worked closely with him throughout, urging him to "keep it dangerous". I've always been one for the darker themes, scoffing at those who would shield their little ones by offering only sanitized stories, so I love that Jonze preserves the peculiarity and wickedness that earned the book criticism in the first place ~ while making the story his own.

A good article with more making-of back-story can be found here, but I say just go see it. And then let the wild rumpus start...

Le Scaphandrier ~ The Giant Diver

I'm thoroughly enraptured by the work of French performance art and puppetry troupe Royal de Luxe. Their May 2006 performance in London, The Sultan's Elephant, was nothing short of genius ~ I can't even imagine the glory of being in attendance at the event, which included a little girl Giantess, a wooden rocket-ship, and a 50-ton mechanical elephant.

Photo by cocobeloeil
And now I've just heard that they've done it again... Writer R.J. Evans posted a blog about a new performance that took place starting June 6th in Nantes ~ the birthplace of Jules Verne ~ that involved a giant deep-sea diver, Le Scaphandrier in French.

Photo by chilirv
I've always been a lover of puppets and marionettes, so to see a 30-foot-tall diver hauled out of the water by a team of frock-coated puppeteers, and then sent out adventuring, just blisses me out.

Photo by Stéfan Le Dû
And there's a beautiful and complex mythology, too, for these amazingly emotive characters, that's been unfolding around Europe for years in various performances - about how the Diver is searching for his niece the Little Giantess, a character from the Sultan's Elephant performance. With the help of Google's nifty translation engine, you can read more about the back-story on Stéfan Le Dû's blog.

Photo by Stéfan Le Dû
The company is rather mysterious and rarely releases information before a performance, adding to the intrigue. But you can find some jaw-dropping YouTube videos, along with a Flickr pool filled with lovely images from the performance.

Photo by Stéfan Le Dû
It's one of those things that makes me happy to be alive, that there are people out there creating such things. We humans may be making war, and reality TV shows, but we're also making street spectacles with grand mechanical creatures, simply for the sake of wonder and magic and art.

Photo ©2009 by Stéphane Lerouge ~ Nantes
Also keep an eye out for the off-shoot company of brilliant fabricators La Machine. They built the original sultan's elephant, and they were also the ones who sent a massive wooden and steel mechanical spider called La Princesse marauding around Liverpool in a post-apocalyptic frenzy, to the delight of onlookers, for week in September 2008 before moving on to Yokohama.

Photo ©2009 by Charlie Charlton
La Machine also built the permanent exhibition Machines of the Isle of Nantes at its workshop, which is open to the public, features the elephant giving rides, and includes a mechanical squid.


Glorious. Simply glorious.