One Last Thing...

        Now that this module is over, and I have had a chance to reflect on the experience, there is one more thing which I wish to say. While the performance aspect was a source of stress and anxiety, I should have taken greater advantage of my video recording (which I made in private with no spectators) as a source of reference.

        Although I used it as the foundation for my storyboards, animatics and key frame poses, I could also have used it more during the animation process. In the instances where I was concerned about the start and end points of specific gestures, I could have checked the video for clarification. Although my actions were slower than I intended those of my character to be, it was still an invaluable tool, which could have assisted in achieving a more natural and convincing animation.

The Brave Little Toaster

        As a child, I used to spend a considerable amount of time imagining inanimate objects were alive. Not just those with faces, or ones intended for such imaginary games, like the characters in Toy Story, but boring household items that shouldn't really interest a child. My favourite item to play this game with was cars. there is something in the arrangement of headlights, radiator grill, license plate and hood ornament that just invites personification.

        This is a fact that I am sure has occurred to many people, especially since Pixar's Cars films, but for me, living cars are best exemplified in The Brave Little Toaster.

        As the above clip exemplifies, it wasn't just cars that are personified; any piece of technology or machinery with features that could resemble a face are brought to life. What is ultimately surprising, by the climax of the film, is how much you have invested in the fate of a vacuum cleaner, a toaster and a radio. The possibility that these appliances, which are so banal in everyday life, might be turned to scrap by a malicious magnet is genuinely moving.

        So how does Disney ensure that these characters will capture the hearts and imaginations of audiences? Unlike A Scanner Darkly, which is overly stylised to the point it is distracting, Chris Buck's designs are simple. They are shaped enough like the appropriate appliances to be instantly recognisable, yet are not overly detailed, and each has their own colour scheme, making it easy to pick them out at a distance. Each also has a distinct personality, similar to the Dwarves in Snow White, which helps drive the narrative. The Toaster is the bold, adventurous, yet level headed leader, Kirby the vacuum in the grouch, Blanky is the wet blanket who pines for 'The Master', and The Radio is the source of comic relief in the darker moments.

        Speaking of which, there are quite a few perilous moments in their quest to be reunited with 'The Master', including electrocution, death defying leaps and escaping potential crushing. These are fairly grim subjects for a children's film, and would be fairly gory and traumatic if. depicted with human or animal characters. Yet going through these moments with the characters strengthens the audience's connection with them. Having seen them go through so much, we're willing them to find their owner and for him to keep them safe, although he'll never know how much they went through to find him.

        Spending an hour and a half watching a toaster and other appliances may not sound like the most thrilling experience, particularly if you aren't aware of this film from childhood, yet there are a number of innovative ways in which mechanical objects are brought to life and imbued with personality. This is largely to do with the clever use the animators make of each characters' form. The blanket is the best example of this; being flexible he can crawl like a baby, cling like a limpet or float like a parachute as the narrative requires. Electrical cords are also used for numerous purposes, often as whip or rope like apparatus for escape, but also as an almost burlesque prop in the case of one seductive tape player. You sense that the Buck and his team had fun in the process of making ordinary household objects extraordinary and exciting.

        Perhaps their biggest triumph, however, is in placing these characters in a predicament which everyone, both children and adults. The best narratives succeed because they focus on conflicts and situations that the audience can emotionally identify with. While ostensibly five appliances going on a cross country journey isn't very universal or relatable, the core of the film is actually about loneliness and fear of abandonment. Something which I am sure everyone, regardless of age, can understand and empathise with.

Character & Rotoscoping

        Experimental, or innovative film making in any instance is a risk. If it works, then you can set the template of film making for years to come. If it doesn't...well, one example in my mind that really doesn't work is A Scanner Darkly.

        Rotoscoping is the problem. It has been used very successfully in animation; Disney's Snow White famously employed the technique, and managed to achieve some very beautiful and naturalistic movements. Yet Richard Linklater's film is a far cry from that handcrafted masterpiece. Rather than using the live action footage as a solid foundation to guide the actions of carefully designed characters, the finished film looks as though it has had a Photoshop filter placed over each frame. It doesn't help that the software used (Rotoshop), by a team of over 30 inexperienced animators, merely interpolated vector key frames. How can a computer effectively judge which aspects of a frame need emphasising in order to construct a pleasing result.

        
        It appears that the sole purpose for using rotoscoping was to serve one small aspect of the narrative; the scramble suits. These suits, which resemble bio-hazard suits, make it impossible to identify the wearer as they display a continually shifting pattern of clothing and facial features. An odd concept, suited to the drug laced story. And while the suits work to an extent, the use of rotoscoping feels like a gimmick, which doesn't serve the narrative, and even detracts from it.

        The graphic style, of black outlines framing block colours (reminiscent of a Roy Lichtenstein image),  results in flat characters; as though every frame is taken from a (not particularly dynamic) comic book. Any finer emotion in the actors' performances is lost behind the slick veneer. It is near impossible to pick up on any creases around the eyes, or twitches of the mouth; anything that might indicate what a character is feeling or thinking. It is as though they are all wearing a mask. Consequently all of the characters appear blank and emotionless, with nearly immobile faces, making it hard to decipher their motivations or invest much interest in their stories.

        Aside from the suits, the only way that the animation particularly enhances the live action footage is in bringing to life the paranoid fantasies of the protagonists, particularly one involving swarms of bugs. However, as the rotoscoped style is consistent throughout, it is not always easy to tell when you are watching a paranoid delusion or reality. Perhaps this is to mirror the protagonists view of the world? I can see that the animation style may have been intended to illustrate a warped and unrealistic world view, but ultimately it is so distracting that it makes an already tricky narrative even more intangible.

        What would the film would have looked like without the rotoscoping? Would it have worked any better if the impossible-to-film-in-live-action elements had been achieved through CG, and the actors' performances had been allowed to take center stage, rather than be glossed over? Would the characters have appeared more expressive, more relatable, or appealing? I cannot help but feel that with a Scanner Darkly, more thought and effort has been put into the visual style, at the expense of constructing a coherent narrative with engaging characters, able to pull the viewer in and hold their attention. The unusual animation seems contrived in order to attract attention, rather than serve the story.

    

Final Decisions

        One of the pieces of advice that I was given during the final crit was that the pause between Moom spotting the arrow on the floor and stooping to pick it up (in the stepped tangent playblast) was particularly long. this was to be expected as the timings were based on my animatic, and at this point I had planned to include a point of view shot showing the arrow on the floor.

        This would be a fairly simple addition to the finished animation, as all that would be required would be to render a single frame of the arrow, and place it for the required length of time within the image sequence when I assemble it in After Effects. 

        However, when I attempted to render the point of view frame, I began to have second thoughts. The frame just didn't look right; from this angle and this close up, the floor looked blurry and the arrow out of place against it, not to mention the shadows.

        Fortunately, once the tangents were flattened, the pause was not so jarring or noticeable, so I felt that it would be best to abandon the POV shot entirely, and keep the animation to a single shot throughout. Moom's pause should be adequate to draw the viewer's attention to the arrow, if they haven't noticed it beforehand.

        And on that note, I have run out of time to make any further alterations to my animation, as I must leave time to render and assemble the image sequence. I am happy that I have got the movement to a passable level, which I am reasonably satisfied with given the setbacks I have faced along the way.

        Of course, given more time there are things I would change. Primarily, I would have liked to sharpen up the timing, making some motions snap to better illustrate Moom's shock and frustration. There are also small details that I would have added, like the rise and fall of Moom's chest to give the impression that he is breathing deeply in an attempt to calm down, or a string on the bow. 

        Although this has by no means been an enjoyable module for me, and I am disappointed my work did not live up to my expectations, without the setbacks and mistakes I experienced I would not have learned nearly so much about working with Maya. It is a difficult piece of software, but I can see its potential and would definitely consider working with it again. Just not necessarily the animation part; I might stick to modelling. 

Light Linking

        Although I had previously used the relationship editor to ensure that the point light only shone on Moom, and none of the props, I found in my test render frame that the bow, arrow and table and chairs were mostly obscured by shadow. This gave the scene quite a dark, moody look.

        I therefore decided to restore the link between the point light and these props, so that they were clearly visible in the final animation.

The Evolution of Mickey

        Mickey Mouse has, over his near 90 year lifespan, become one of the most recognisable and well loved characters in animation history. During this time, he has undergone many superficial changes, both in appearance and behaviour, yet the spirit of the character has endured.

The earliest known sketches of Mickey Mouse,
1928.

        The strength of Mickey has been attributed to his simple design. Created by Walt Disney himself in 1928, he is comprised mainly of circles, making him simple to draw and animate, and easy to identify. The circular design is most apparent in his ears, which generally remain flat circles, regardless of which way he is facing. They are perhaps Mickey's most iconic feature, remaining unchanged throughout his evolution, and have formed the cornerstone of countless Disney logos.

        An odd testimony to the mouse's growing status in western animation is the fact that his likeness was used in a 1936 Japanese propaganda film (above) as a visual metaphor for the American armed forces. The are ostensible differences between this mouse and the genuine article, namely a thinner, more rat-like appearance to fit with his 'evil' portrayal. However, enough original characteristics remain for him to be instantly recognisable.

        When changes were made to the original incarnation of Mickey Mouse, they were done gradually, one change at a time, allowing people to get used to his new gloves, rounder body, larger eyes, and the addition of colour. Many design decisions were based on practical considerations. For example, three fingers instead of four, to prevent his hands looking like 'bunches of bananas' as well as to cut costs; white gloves to provide contrast and clarity against his black body. 

        It wasn't until close to Fantasia's release in 1940, more than 10 years since the character's creation, that Mickey underwent a more drastic change, and began to more closely represent the mouse that we are used to seeing today. But what is it about this Mouse that makes his appeal so enduring? While his popularity may have waxed and waned incrementally over the decades, he has never been far away from public consciousness. 

A brief spell with a more pear shaped head...

...before returning to the rounder shape we all know.

         Indeed, aside from being the mascot of one of the world's biggest animation studios, he has also been adopted as an unofficial symbol of the USA. A fairly positive comparison in most people's eyes; everything about Mickey's appearance is indicative of a confident, open, friendly kind of guy with a can-do attitude. Even in his earliest incarnations as a flawed 'antihero' Mickey Mouse was more mischievous than malicious. Being synonymous with a nation has made him a prime target of unflattering slang, satire, as well as the aforementioned political parody. Yet it seems that for Mickey there really is no such thing as bad publicity.   

        Interestingly, while the rest of the animation industry is taking advantage of technological advancement and innovation, Mickey Mouse has undergone something of a return to his roots of late. In his most recent cartoon incarnation, Mickey has lost his Caucasian colouring, has reverted to simple black eyes, and more closely resembles his Steamboat Willie predecessor. In a climate where technology can pose as many threats as benefits, this may be a reflection of a western desire to recall to the 'good old fashioned' values of a bygone era, and the simplicity of a pre-digital era.

        Whatever the motivation, Disney have proven that a simple yet fundamentally appealing character design can endure for decades, and maintain a strong level of public affection across generations of audiences.

Dreamworks Character Design

        Throughout the studio's lifespan, Dreamworks Animation has covered all of the major animation methods, from traditional 2D, to 3D computer generated, and even stop motion, in collaboration with Aardman.

        Unlike Pixar, Dreamworks does not have a distinct house style. Each film or franchise has it's own unique look. This can be beneficial; I find the angular, geometric shapes of Madagascar's menagerie really quite off putting (this may also be due to their anthropomorphic New Yorker attitudes, but the design is a significant factor), but feel far more well disposed towards Shrek, and really like How To Train Your Dragon's designs.

        Yet while Dreamworks has had great success with its animal and creature characters, they have had more trouble with creating appealing human characters. All animation studios struggled in the beginning to create 3D computed generated human characters which were believable and appealing. Even Pixar's early efforts suffered scrutiny; while their Toy Story toys were heaped with praise and are widely loved, some felt that the plastic textures had extended to Andy and his Mum, making them off-putting, and nudging them towards the realm of the uncanny. And they are only minor characters.

        In the 20 years since Toy Story's release, not only had CG animation technology improved, but animators and character designers have learned, through trial and error, how to overcome the difficulties in creating lovable human characters. Usually the solution is to create caricatures, rather than anatomically accurate recreations of people; three dimensional versions of the wide eyed, slim waisted, extremely proportioned  2D characters which audiences have been responding well to for decades. This is particularly noticeable in Disney's recent forays into 3D animation.

        A notable exception to this pattern is Shrek. While the eponymous hero and his Donkey sidekick are highly stylised, along with most of the fairy tale creatures, by comparison the design of the humans is relatively 'safe'. By which I mean that there is little exaggeration; they are correctly proportioned, and pretty realistic. While not unpleasant to look at, in a film predominantly populated by bold, cartoonish figures, they appear somewhat dull, and tend to fade into the backgound.

While Shrek has produced a number of highly distinctive
and iconic characters...

...there is little to differentiate between the humans,
meaning they are not particularly memorable.

         Many of the characters have minor roles in the franchise, so this is not too much of an issue. However, this is not the case with Princess Fiona. For much of the plot of Shrek, she is alone with the ogre when in her human form, meaning she has more opportunity to stand out, yet she still fades in comparison with her larger-than-life, vibrant green co star, whose design is infinitely more eye catching.

Human Fiona is often in Shrek's shadow.

        The disparity in the character designs also creates problems with expression. Due to their bold features, Shrek and Donkey are easy to read, even in long shots. Fiona, on the other hand, often requires close ups to express subtler emotion, as her delicate features simply do not stand out when viewed from a distance. 

        The cast of major human characters is increased in the sequels, and although their animation is bold and effective, managing to capture the quieter nuances of human emotion as well as the more exuberant gestures, they lack the visual panache of the more fantastical characters.

        The How to Train Your Dragon series of films has apparently learned from its predecessor. Each of the large cast of human characters has their own distinct design, idiosyncrasies, and an easily identifiable, bold silhouette, emphasising their individual personalities. As audiences are adept at inferring a great amount from subtle changes in expression, they also all have clear, easy to read facial features which 'pop' making them easy to read even from a distance.

The character designs are distinct, yet coherent. They work
as part of a single universe.

3D Animation in Medicine

        While I have been focusing of the role of CG modelling and animation within the film and entertainment industries, we should not overlook the mediums applications and importance in the wider world, particularly in the service of science and medicine.

        Technology more commonly used to create digital doubles of actors for effects heavy blockbusters is currently revolutionising the world of prosthetics. The conventional method of producing maxillofacial prosthetics is long and laborious (involving taking impressions, moulds and casts of body parts). Yet companies such as Fripp Design have begun scanning the faces of customers seeking facial prosthetics which are cheaper and quicker to produce than their hand made counterparts. Once the face is scanned, 3D modelling software is used to rebuild the area requiring a prosthesis, either referencing the patients relatives, or, in the case of eyes and ears, the patients own features. Rather than paying around £10,000 for a hand painted prosthetic eye, and 3D printed one could cost as little as £160, while the production time could be cut from 10 weeks to 48 hours. 

        Meanwhile, with an increased scarcity of cadavers, 3D computer generated animation can be used to create anatomically accurate visualisations of the human body. These simulations can be watched passively, as educational videos, or may include interactive controls, allowing the student to 'explore'.

        In the same vein, complex and detailed virtual bodies can be used for surgical training allowing medical students to practice basic surgical procedures, or more experienced surgeons to explore new techniques and hone their skill set. Previous to the digital age, pioneering new surgical procedures meant finding willing volunteers actually in need of surgery. After all, it is hardly ethical to cut up healthy patients. 3D visualisations provide a safe and controversy free way for trainee medics to practice and learn, much in the same way as a flight simulator. Access to a virtual body also offers surgeons the chance for in depth analysis of upcoming procedures, deciding how best to solve the problem they face and consequently minimise the risk of complications when operating on a patient. 

        It is not just the medical professionals who can benefit from the use of CG animation. Patients can be shown animated, yet accurate 3D visualisations, either of their own, personal conditions (achieved through MRI and CT scanning), or one of immersive, educational animations created by a growing number of companies which specialise in breathing life into the microscopic worlds of cell division and protein synthesis. One such company is Cosmocyte, who hope to produce an animation entitled What Is Cancer?

        CG animation offers a possible solution of how to describe the invisible, or indeed the unimaginable. Faced with the shocking news that they have cancer or require extensive surgery, an animation could provide an eloquence and clarity which may be lacking from a consultant's explanation, particularly when the patient is unfamiliar with complex medical terminology. 

        3D animation and modelling's applications in the medical industry have the potential to change lives. It can help make the world of medicine accessible, as well as more efficient. There is also an element of magic in being able to show the world what is broken, exactly how it will be fixed, not to mention the invisible worlds of cells and disease, usually only seen in a lab.

Another Setback

        Yesterday, my poor laptop, who up until now has been coping well with the strain of both Adobe Creative Suite and Maya, decided that enough was enough. Since adding in scenery and lighting, my laptop no longer responds instantly, whether I am trying to move between frames, manipulate a controller, or play the animation through.

        After a short while trying to work with these conditions, I decided that my time would be better spent catching up on any remaining blog posts, and coming into college today to work on the animation. Unfortunately, as I have a workshop tomorrow, and need to take into account the amount of time that Maya may need to render each frame, today will likely be my last opportunity to improve my work.

The Importance Of Character & Narrative In Animation

        Character and narrative in animation go hand in hand. There is an intrinsic link between the two. A strong and appealing character acts as the audience's emotional compass in all forms of cinema, not just animation. Without a character that the audience finds engaging, it is difficult to invest in the narrative; after all, if you don't care about a character, understand their motivations, connect with their predicament, or want to find out how their story develops, why continue watching?

        To be engaging and hold the audience's interest, a character need not necessarily be 'likeable'. Many animations have villains which are more intriguing and arresting than the heroes (Maleficent is a prime example). What they must be is 'appealing'.

        For a character designer, knowing what audiences will and won't find appealing is essential. Although technology is reaching new heights and able to achieve new levels of realism, Shannon Tindale (a character designer who has worked on Coraline and How To Train Your Dragon among others) is of the opinion that characters should strive for believability rather than realism. These two concepts are similar but not interchangeable. Up's Carl Fredricksen is believable; he moves, talks and behaves like the epitome of a grumpy (yet secretly softhearted) old man. He is exceedingly well observed, but his design is angular and stylised, rather than realistic. If a character is believable, then the audience is more likely to feel a connection with them and invest in the narrative than if they are confronted with realistic yet lifeless or bland character.

        Another thing to bear in mind is that the style of a character should fit with the mood and tone of an animation. If there is a disparity between the two then it can be jarring, and ultimately confusing. Coraline, for instance is a slightly off kilter, creepy fable perfectly suited to the quirks of stop motion, but would have been completely inappropriate as a screwball cartoon.

        Also, the design of a character can give us hints as to their role in the narrative, and even the direction of the narrative, before said character has even moved. Animated series are particularly good at this; The Simpsons uses a number of similar yet subtly different versions of a cultural stereotype, primarily soulless lawyers and network executives, in order to mock and lampoon. Despite being told by our mothers to 'never judge a book by its cover', we form snap judgments of characters on first sight, based solely on their appearance. After all, every aspect of a character is carefully designed for a purpose, so why, for example, would Maleficent have green skin and horns if she wasn't the evil type?         

Sound Recording Induction

        As part of the Character & Narrative module we are requited to record our own voice performance of the lyrics our animation will be based upon, as well as any additional sound effects. Consequently, it was necessary for us to learn to use some of the sound recording equipment and software which college has to offer.

        We also had a brief introduction to some of the principles of working with audio, such as ensuring the volume levels are correct, reducing interference and broadcasting standards; all useful information that will be helpful in our future careers.

On The Importance Of Expression

        The other day I found myself watching an episode of The Simpsons with the volume turned down, and was struck by how much of the I was able to pick up just through observing the characters' expressions. To convey a certain emotion, the animators do not rely solely of a character's face, but throw the whole body into the expression. 

Here, every aspect of Homer's body expresses amusement. 

        This is a narrative tactic that has been used since the silent film era, when actors made the most of their bodies (Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton being the masters) in order to compensate for the lack of explanatory dialogue (aside from the occasional title card). Although extreme expressions are most prevalent in cartoons, for comedic effect, exaggeration is present in all form and genres of animation. 

        Exaggeration need not be big, bold gestures like Homer's; it can be small subtle gestures such as focusing on a contracting pupil, or simply holding a pose a fraction too long. Anything to draw the audience's attention to what the animator wishes to communicate.

        It is in the brief run times of cartoons that expression really needs to be at it's most immediate and powerful. For Looney Tunes and Tom & Jerry shorts, which can last just a few minutes, yet are often packed full of visual gags and slapstick comedy, each frame is precious. Consequently, skilled animators like Chuck Jones and Tex Avery imbued every frame with a strong sense of mood and purpose. In these stills from Wile E Coyote shorts, it is possible to discern what is happening (and even make an educated guess about what is going to happen) from a single frame, due to the well observed poses, facial expressions and compositions.

   

        Like the films of the silent era, neither Wile E Coyote or Tom & Jerry have the crutch of dialogue to rely on, so to compensate cartoons have developed their own form of visual language. For example, I have never felt the need to grasp my foot and hop around in agony, yet somehow watching a cartoon cat perform this action makes me take a sharp inhalation of breath.  When people fall, they aren't suspended momentarily in mid air, but this adds a sense of pathos and anticipation. When you bang a finger or toe, it doesn't immediately swell to twice its normal side a glow vibrant red, yet this is an eloquent representation of a throbbing pain the audience can identify with.

        Of course, not all animations make such bold use of expression (either facial or bodily). Often, this results in a more ambiguous tone, less clarity, and even confusion. One example that leaps to mind is Ruth Lingford's Pleasures of War. Clothed in a voluminous black gown, the only expression from Lingford's female protagonist derives from subtle clenching of her fingers and minute shifts in her roughly drawn expression from misery to anger. For the majority of the animation she is blank and unreadable. While Lingford undoubtedly wishes her film to provoke questions from the audience, rather than merely entertain, it is frustrating to spend an extended amount of time unable to understand a character's intentions. Ultimately, it makes the animation less engaging, and less enjoyable. Arguably Pleasures of War would have been more powerful if the audience could identify more with the character.

         When an animator makes masterful use of expression, it enables audiences, young and old to immediately recognise the emotions depicted, and easily comprehend and follow the narrative. With this in mind, I will take into account how effectively each keyframe I use serves the narrative, not just of the Character & Narrative animation, but all of my future projects.

        Animation is a visual medium. Although sound and dialogue can still be important, they should support the animation, rather than the other way around. Ultimately, the story should be told through action, as lengthy exposition is dull, and can make the narrative drag; wherever possible, 'show, don't tell'.

It's All In The Eyes

        I had not watched any of Disney's earlier animations for quite a number of years until recently, when I re-watched Cinderella. Although it is still an enchanting film, I was struck by how lackluster a heroine Cinderella herself is. Her evil step mother and sisters, and the caricaturish Grand Duke and King are far more arresting characters than either she, or her saviour Prince Charming. I have come to the conclusion that it could be in the eyes. Looking at her, she seems a little dead behind the eyes. They don't even have a point of light to add a modicum of sparkle and vivacity.

        Princess Aurora suffers a similar predicament in Sleeping Beauty. Neither princess has a particularly expressive face, very much resembling a 1950s Barbie doll. Like Snow White they are fairly realistically proportioned, yet are somewhat bland and lacking in personality. Not helped by narratives that rely on handsome princes coming to their rescue, the audience never really gets a sense of who these girls are. The real performances and personalities are given instead to the villains and comic characters, and in Cinderella's case, it is the animals that steal the show.

        Over the years, Disney princesses have retained the DNA of their predecessors. Notably, they all have similar heart shaped faces, with high cheek bones and minimal features aside from their eyes and mouths. Since the 80s and 90s, many of them have had decidedly bigger, more expressive eyes. Moreover, as the princesses' roles have become more substantial, their entire faces have become more mobile, as animators trust that their heroines can still be beautiful while pulling extreme and communicative expressions. 

        A case in point is Ariel. Her unmistakable excitement and enthusiasm at finding herself with legs and on land would have been far less apparent if she had been permanently sporting Cinderella's careful 'social' smile. By exaggerating her expressions, the animators make Ariel's reactions seem more spontaneous, natural, and importantly, genuine. Of course, the decision to break the princess mould with Ariel's design may have been due to the fact that she spends a considerable portion of the film unable to speak, making her facial expression and (as Ursula points out) body language her only communication tools. 

        Ariel's expressiveness set the template for a streak of feisty and vivacious heroines, from Belle (Beauty & The Beast) to Anna and Elsa (Frozen).

The smallest shift of an eyebrow, or twitch of an eyelid,
can convey a whole world of emotion.

        All are still recognisably Disney, remaining determinedly beautiful an sporting the same perfect complexion and minimal features (notice the importance of the shape of the nose in distinguishing a character's nationality), but as other animation studios have begun to exert their influence (Pixar, Dreamworks) Disney has begun to take note. Attitudes are changing, and audiences no longer want the 1940s vision of womanhood; someone to wash clean and cook, be seen but not heard. Now, the emphasis is on creating strong, independent and believable female characters. And what believable girl has a perfectly fixed 'Pan Am' smile all of the time?  

Setting The Scene

        During the final crit, I had noticed that all of my peers had created some form of environment for their animation to take place in, whether that be a simple white space (a plain backdrop and floor), or a fully developed room, with walls, floors, ceiling, doors and windows. I aim to keep my environment fairly simple, so that I can concentrate the majority of my remaining time to fine tuning my animation.

        So, firstly the floor. In my mind, I had an image of highly polished, wide, antique looking floorboards. However, in reality, it was difficult to find a high resolution seamless image matching these specifications, so I plumped for a good quality, free image of wooden floorboards which would do the job nicely. After all, the focus is not meant to be on the floor.

        Having found a suitable image, I then created a polygon plane and assigned the floorboards as a material to the plane, the same process I used for making the chair and table top look wooden.

        As I planned on using a spotlight as the main source of lighting, to create an intimate/dramatic look, I didn't feel it was a reasonable use of my time to add in any walls, as they would not be visible under such lighting. However, with just the spotlight, the majority of Moom's face and body were in extreme shadow, which created a far more sinister mood than I desired. To solve this problem, it is possible to create a point light which only affects Moom, and not the props around him.

        To stop the point light (or indeed any light) from affecting the entire scene, there is a Light Linking option in the Relationship Editor under the Window menu. Here, you are able to chose which objects are illuminated by the chosen light.

        I also chose to turn the Raytrace shadows off for the point light, as the long shadows they cast across the floor were a little messy and didn't contribute to the scene. The intensity also needed lowering very marhinally, as the brightness of the point light was causing some very white reflections on Moom's head.

Raytrace shadows on...

...and off.

Full point light intensity...

...0.9 intensity...

...0.8 intensity.

        Although the difference is barely noticeable here, the lower intensity lighting values are softer, and will produce a less harsh in the rendered animation. You can also see in these images that the light fades a little at the edge of the area illuminated by the spot light. This is achieved by altering the penumbra angle. I didn't want to soften the edges too much though, as at the beginning of the animation the bow is held quite close to the boundary of the spotlight.

        While I have not experimented with building an in depth scene as some of my peers, I am satisfied that my scene conveys the tone and emotion  set out to create. Hopefully in the future I can expand on the basic skills I have demonstrated, and further explore the potential Maya offers in creating 3D environments. 

Final Crit Feedback

        Viewing everyone's animations for the first time in the final crit, it was striking and inspiring to see the variety of animations which had been created using the same. There was a great diversity of tone and style, from comedic to unnerving, some using minimal yet nuanced and effective movement, and others with big, bold performances. Considering we had all begun this year with no experience of Maya, I was in awe of what everyone had managed to achieve.

        In terms of my own work, due to the aforementioned problems with the 'tweening' of my keyframes, I chose to show this playblast: 

        I felt that this was a far better representation of my work to date than the glitchy, flat tangent play blast. I am proud of the poses that I have created, and believe that they express the range of emotions that Moom experiences, from confusion, through panic, frustration and relief. 

        Despite my animation not being finished, I was pleased by the generally positive reaction to my work. The group were supportive, giving helpful feedback, as well as highlighting aspects that they had enjoyed, such as Moom's melodramatic attitude, how his eyes open at the end, and the dramatic, dynamic poses, which make use of most of the controllers.

        However, it was suggested that the extreme change Maya had to perform between these poses could be causing some of the problems with the flattened tangents. I will need to revisit some of the keyframes and create additional in-between poses, to give Maya greater guidance in how Moom should be moving.

        There are a few aesthetic factors I need to resolve before the submission deadline. While some of my classmates had constructed impressive environments for their animations (walls, window views and even background characters) I had always intended to keep my set fairly simple. I need to add in a floor, shaded to look like wooden floorboards, and a spotlight, to help mimic the warm, intimate atmosphere of a romantic bistro.

        I also found it useful to take into account the feedback given to my peers whose animations were more developed than my own, and hopefully incorporate these suggestions into my own work. A common theme seemed to be the use of overlapping action and follow through, to make the characters' movement seem looser, more flowing and natural. We had experimented with this technique in the segmented pendulum study task.

        Although I will try to incorporate this important principle of animation into my work, I am quickly running out of time, and am afraid I may only be able to achieve an animation in which Moom moves smoothly, without any unwanted back flips. I had ambitious hopes and expectations of how I hoped my animation would look, but now realise that I need to set realistic goals for what I can achieve in the time remaining. After all, Maya is a huge and complex piece of software, and we have only just begun our learning journey. No one can become an expert in a matter of months.

Increased Flexibility Of CG Animation

        Aside from the artistic and creative benefits offered by 3D CG animation, there are also logistical benefits. 

        Traditionally, with stop motion or hand drawn animation the entire team works in the studio together, within close proximity to one another. If one of the puppets breaks, it can then be replaced and fixed, a set can be redressed, a frame reworked; changes can be made cohesively, everyone is on hand and production can run smoothly.

        Digital animation, on the other hand, has the potential for greater freedom. If everything exists as a digital file rather than a physical artifact, it can easily be shared among artists across the globe. The modeller, rigger, texture artist, shader writer and animator no longer need to be in the same country. It eliminates the problem of commuting; an animation studio can make use of the best talents from the four corners of the globe.

        Additionally, when a character (or indeed setting or prop) is made digitally, it can be stored indefinitely. Unlike a latex puppet, it will not decay or ruin over time. There will be no need to redraw or recreate a character as it will be there safe and ready to use in the event of any sequels or spin offs. Indeed, a digital model of a character could just as easily be be used in the creation of a video game as an animated film. 

        Similarly, once a digital object is created, there are no limitations regarding the number of copies that can be made. With stop motion, a number of duplicate puppets are made, in case of breakages, but also in order than a character can be used on several stages by several animators working on different scenes. In theory the more puppets, the more scenes can be animated simultaneously, but puppets are expensive. Any duplicate props will also need making one by one, by hand, keeping an eye on consistency and continuity. Even more impractically, any copies in hand drawn animation, must be laboriously redrawn. Copying a digital file is infinitely quicker, not to mention cheaper, which are sadly important considerations in the production of an animation.