Full Animation: Lamarre’s The Anime Machine and the Movement of Characters

By Miranda Desbiens

Introduction

Full Animation is the sixth chapter in section one of The Anime Machine, written by Thomas Lamarre. Published in 2009, this book explores Lamarre’s theory of animation in relation to media theory, placing it not as an artistic medium but rather one of technology, relating it to the apparatus in order to situate it within the study of cinema. Outlined in chapter two, Animation Stand, Lamarre applies his theory to the concept of full animation, covering the use of rotoscoping in early Japanese animation to help rookie animators determine the amount of frames necessary to accurately draw a character’s movement. Using rotoscoping as a segue way into the sense of energy and weight required in character’s movements, Lamarre also distinguishes key frames from in-betweens and clean up, all the while placing these within the multiplanar machine, favouring the concept of compositing over character animation. While the universality of full animation is illustrated through examples of Hiro Miyazaki and Walt Disney alike, Lamarre focuses more on Miyazaki and Otsuka’s style and technique, pulling their inspiration from limited animation into the discussion. This culminates in the technique Miyazaki uses to make his characters in Castle in the Sky fly. As a whole, the chapter reinforces Lamarre’s stance from Animation Stand that animation must be considered within the technological realm.

Summary

The chapter opens with a loose definition of full animation, explaining that it signifies the amount of drawings needed to create the fluid movement of characters (Lamarre 64). Were it to mimic the frames of live action movements, 24 frames per second would be required. However, time and budget constraints have forced animators to adapt this number to fewer drawings per second, many averaging out at 18 frames per second, also known as the Disney average (64). To help animators accurately depict movement in the necessary number of frames, rotoscoping is used to create a reference point.

Rotoscoping consists of filming actors performing the movements on film for animators, who in turn use the footage to determine how many of the 24 frames per second are necessary to recreate the movement in drawings (64). The benefit of rotoscoping is the sense of “cinematic fullness” (64) that it allows animators to achieve all while removing the need to guess the number of frames necessary to accurately depict a movement. It can be used both in order to create a sense of accuracy to live action cinema and to deviate from it, using the base images to then exaggerate gestures and expressions (65). From the digital standpoint, motion capture technology equates to a sort of live action equivalent of rotoscoping, with sensor points creating data that is then digitally “drawn” on (65). These added layers of movement and colour make the image multiplanar. This can create a dizzying effect, as seen in Richard Linklater’s Waking Life, where the characters and landscapes are drawn in a way that is constantly in movement and detached (65). This deviates from the traditional notion of full animation, where character’s movements are seen as even more dynamic against a static background (66).

However, movements are not just limited to living organisms and landscapes. The concept of animism, in which a sense of spirit is capable of manifesting anything present in an animated movie (66), is possible in an age of technology as the “…force implicit in the succession of mechanical images is stunted into the animation of characters and objects” (66). Lamarre then transitions into the idea of fluid movement in full animation, where a character’s movement is meant to be drawn over the layer of landscape to remain grounded in it, as opposed to having the different layers of the image move in place of the characters. Moving the layers instead would result in limited animation (66).

Full animation is understood as the standard for animation from an art perspective, Walt Disney and Hiro Miyazaki alike following it (66). The first coloured feature-length Japanese animated film, Hakujaden, was released by Toei Doga in 1958, a studio founded on the premise of rivaling Disney and exporting Japanese culture worldwide (66). Rotoscoping was heavily used for the production to help train the newly employed animators, although it was very costly and time consuming (67). Squash-and-stretch technique was employed for the sequences with the film’s panda, as rotoscoping proved too difficult with a live animal (67). The animal sequences of the film also demonstrate the unique ways in which animators will approach a scene. Lamarre highlights this to segue way into the energies emitted through a character’s movements, regardless of how many frames per second are used.

Animators such as Otsuka would often use their own bodies to mimic the movement of the characters, having “…already conceptualized (the drawings) cinematically in the sense that they understand their own movements in terms of frames” (68). From this, Otsuka would draw 4 frames: the beginning of the movement, followed by the end, and then two frames in-between (68). Forming the “key frames” of the movement, a flip-through of the pages provided an idea of how the full movement would look once animated. Otsuka would teach this concept through the example of a boy lifting a hammer in order to help young animators understand the sense of energy necessary to complete such a movement, asking them to notice how the shoulders and knees might respond to the weight. The emphasis on energy and dynamism is stressed in order to help ground the movements realistically, keeping the characters from appearing as robotic (70).

In traditional cel animation, the key sketches are sent to assistants upon completion in order to create the in-between sketches as well as clean up the linework of the images. For fear that a sense of energy and implied mass will be lost as the contours of an image become more refined in clean-up, key animators will exaggerate body strength and the weight of the objects that the characters possess, resulting in the refinement creating the intended energy (71). Otsuka and Miyazaki would also insist on tasking rookie animators with the in-between frames as they naturally possessed more energy than the older animators and would be able to transfer that energy to the animation (71). The sense of implied mass desired in these images is necessary to help ground a character within their world, letting them respond to its forces. This insistence places full animation in “response to the multiplanar machine” (71).

These planes tend to defy the physical laws of nature, so an emphasis in gravity is essential in order to situate the characters. Were the emphasis of movement to be placed on the planes instead of the character, the character would appear to be weightless, floating or flying over the background (72). This technique can occur in cinema as well, however its use in early cinema has shifted with time, forcing the moving image into camera movement. (72). Cel animation works differently with camera movement, pushing the moving image into the area of compositing (72). Lamarre insists on compositing over character animation in order for the reader to understand animation not as an art form but as a technology (72). Full animation masks the gap between planes, for when emphasis is placed on drawing movements and not moving drawings, the focus shifts to character animation and not the gap between the planes (73). Lamarre uses Disney as the prime example of this and his ability to create “…fully realistic and fully realized…” (73) movements, which makes for a “…substantial body in a substantial world” (73). Full animation and closed compositing are necessary for this substantial world to be sustained (73).

As digital animation merged with cel animation, an emphasis was made on digital movement and depth within a cel animated world. Many of these attempts were box office failures however, nonetheless digital companies such as Pixar would use cartoonish characters in a world of volumetric depth, while others would resort back to flattened layers (73). Otsaku and Miyazaki did not employ full animation to the Disney average, as their backgrounds in television animation with constrained time and budgets motivated them to employ the techniques of limited animation (74). While Otsaku would shift the weight and center of gravity of his example of the hammer wielding character by switching between planes, in his work on Conan he animates the character running forward by tilting the body’s axis, switching the body into different planes (74). This retains the energy of the movement without the need for implied mass (74). Discussing Miyazaki’s work on Castle in the Sky, Lamarre highlights his use of open composition and sliding planes to create the character’s flight scenes. By angling the axis of their bodies the way Otsuka does with Conan, his characters are able to respond to the environment around them all while floating across the scenery (76).

Lamarre concludes this chapter by highlighting Miyazaki’s ability to keep his characters grounded in their world, comparing the way he opens character animation to the animatic interval with the way the multiplanar machine is able to “free thought and save bodies from technological predicament” (76).

Major Concepts

Full animation: This chapter heavily explores full animation, as the title suggests. Interwoven throughout each example and concept, Lamarre uses the goal of fully realized images to explain how animators both adhere to and deviate from its expectations.

Rotoscoping: This technique allows for animators to base character movements off of the work of live action performers, acting out the scenes on film as a reference point. Assuring accuracy in movement, Lamarre uses rotoscoping from both a historical standpoint and as a way to help introduce Otsuka’s ideology of dynamism, energy and realistic grounding in character’s movements.

Key Frame: These are the drawings used to outline the most prominent moments in a character’s movement. Creating the first and last image of the movement as well as a couple images in between allows key animators to get a general sense of how the full movement will look following the work of the in-betweens and clean up.

Multiplanar Machine: This is outlined in The Anime Machine’s introduction as and “abstract machine”(Lamarre xxvi) that combines the technical and the abstract. In this chapter it is used within the context of planes, and how Otsuka’s sense of character grounding aims to work against the sliding planes that make a character seem weightless upon movement.

Influences and Context

Although published in 2009, The Anime Machine contains reworkings of some of Lamarre’s previous essays. While not explicitly a reworking, his 2002 essay From Animation to Anime: Drawing Movements and Moving Drawings predates several of the concepts and examples used in Full Animation, such as rotoscoping, Hakujaden and Castle in the Sky (Lamarre 331, 342). Considering that the most recent film referenced in Full Animation is The Triplets of Belleville from 2003, one can assume that much of Lamarre’s groundwork for this chapter is rooted in From Animation to Anime. Providing further elaboration on the sense of reality live-action images hold over animation, Lamarre discusses how animation has often been perceived as conforming to the movements and expectations of different realities (333). Acknowledging that live-action holds the upper hand in “recomposing” movement in film (333), he places the responsibility of recoding movement to anime films (333). These claims are a very clear precursors to Lamarre’s statements in Full Animation, as the live-action movement vs animated movement debate sets up his discussion of Otsuka’s teachings of energies and dynamism to properly ground animated characters within their reality (69).

As Lamarre mentions in Full Animation, commentators were speculating the death of cel animation when box office numbers showed fully digitally animated films succeeding over features that combined volumetric depth with cel animation techniques (73). Miyzaki’s films were still successful, however in the seven-year gap between these two publications there is indeed a shift in which techniques were being both used by animators and favoured at the box office. The continued strong presence of Pixar and Dreamworks Animation grew significantly between 2002 and 2009, ushering fully digital animation into the mainstream. Disney would also follow suit releasing their last tradition cel animated features, The Princess and the Frog and Winnie the Pooh, in 2009 and 2011 respectively. Lamarre’s focus on anime during a time of change in western mainstream animation serves as a reminder that cel animation is not only still in use but also still of financial value, although mainly arriving from outside the United States (Lamarre 73).

In regards to the context around Lamarre’s theories and research, his general academic work “…centers on the history of media, thought and material culture” (McGill.ca) within the lens of Japanese media and East Asian Studies. This places his take on animation’s role in film criticism under a very specific lens and context. There is mention of non-Japanese animators and studios, however his theory of the apparatus is heavily influenced by the technological practices of specifically Japanese animation. This is evident in his nods to the freedom of technology found throughout the chapter, such as the mechanical succession of images (Lamarre 72) and the use of technology such as rotoscoping and compositing to capture images (72). Lamarre’s academic knowledge in media theory largely shapes his outlook on animation, insisting on its framing as technological and not artistic (72).

Speculation

Lamarre is very set in his ways about the need for animation to be considered from a technological standpoint, and while the systematic nature of the image succession and the technology used to capture it does justify this, I fear that his claim in this particular book and chapter is ultimately a disservice to the medium. There is a shift between From Animation to Anime and Full Animation in the language Lamarre uses to describe animation. Referring to it initially as “a film art” (Lamarre 333) in From Animation… to describe the frame by frame workings to recompose movement, he later states in the chapter Animation Stand how animation must be considered from a technological standpoint and not an artistic one in order to understand it as moving images (Lamarre 12). This of course does make sense, however there are aspects that I wish to challenge, such as the negligence of the artistic process in favour of the apparatus, the contradicting nature of finding freedom in technology, and his stance that an art approach may be perceived as a disservice of some sort.

While rotoscoping was indeed used as a technology to assist the animators of Hakujaden, the key and in-between sketches were the result of the hands-on work of the animators. Yes, they were creating a succession of images, however this succession only becomes mechanical upon the photographic capture. As they are flipping through the pages to study the movements they are creating, they are not subjected to the apparatus; they are moving the images through art, without the immediate need for it to be captured through technology. When discussing the mechanical succession of images Lamarre often employs the term “forced”, as if we have reason to be surprised that the succession of drawn images has not naturally come to be. However, handing the medium off to the machine only reinforces this idea that we must consider the image succession in this manner. Furthermore, Lamarre’s suggestion that “the multiplanar animetic machine thus promises a way to free thought and save bodies from their technological predicament” (76) creates a huge contradiction in his previous claim. While stating that technology is the superior way to classify animation, he implies a sense of restriction to be found in technology, as if it is something to escape from even though the means of escape are through technology regardless.

I fear that Lamarre fails to realize that his classification of animation as technological not only taints the legacy of the medium but also highlights the problem with using apparatus theory to define cinema. His claims in Animation Stand root his positioning as ensuring that animation is regarded among the same ranks as live-action films, unable to be perceived as lesser if it is not considered as an art form. This not only suggest that the reality presented in live-action films is the only plausible world for spectators to witness, but also does a disservice to film as a whole if we are to look at all films as a matter of technology and not art. This is a debate that is not in my current capacities to fully resolve, however I wish to bring up a few points. For one, the camera as the centerpiece of film diminishes the art of both animation and live-action performances. It is true that it is thanks to the camera, and by extension the projector (Metz 49) that we are able to be spectators to a film and enwrap ourselves within that film’s reality. However, it is not merely technology that is able to bring the film to life. By reducing animation to a mode of technology, Lamarre suggests that it is only the capturing of the images that matter, and not the creation of these images in order to be captured. Furthermore, he reduces the importance of performance by implying that the succession of images is forced. Referring back to his elaborations on rotoscoping, we see how the common aim of the animators who used it was to create movements that appeared natural and accurate to live-action movements. To suggest the succession of these movements to be forced is to counter the entire concept rotoscoping and its role in helping to establish fluidity and accuracy in movement. It also suggests that the succession of movements is only possible thanks to the camera, diminishing the artistry required to create a sense of movement and dynamic energy in the images.

Overall, I worry that the desire to not classify animation as art out of fear for diminished praise only reinforces the idea that the artistic value of cinema pales in comparison to its technological offerings. The camera only serves to capture the image the way the pencil brings the artist’s drawing to the page, for regardless of the medium it is the artistic inspiration that brings the piece to life. Lamarre’s claims are arguably more concerning in the present day state of mainstream animation, as the popularity of cel animation continues to diminish in favour of fully digitally animated film, forcing the medium to adhere to technology.

WORKS CITED

Lamarre, Thomas. “From Animation to Anime: Drawing Movements and Moving Drawings” Japan Forum, 2002

Lamarre, Thomas. “Animation Stand” and “Full Animation” The Anime Machine, University of Minneasota Press, 2009

Metz, Christian. “Identification, Mirror” The Imaginary Signifier: Psychoanalysis in Cinema, Indiana University Press, 1981

McGill University, Department of East Asian Studies https://www.mcgill.ca/eas/thomas-lamarre