by Jake Bourgeois, Contributing Writer
I’ve always had a soft spot for animation. More years than not, at least a couple of animated features find their way onto my top 10 list. So, I’m setting out to shine a light on some films that may have passed you by. The idea with Animation Celebration is to take a look at some underseen gems — so no Toy Story or Frozen here.
Let’s get started.
Flee made history at this year’s Oscars for its unique mix of nominations for International Feature Film, Animated Feature Film, and Documentary Feature. So, I wanted to see if I could take a look at a choice inspired by that film.
Aside from its haul of nominations, the fact that Flee was a feature-length animated documentary is unique enough. There aren’t a ton of those around, but when it comes to animated documentaries, using them as a way to explore military topics seems to be a popular tool. Perhaps the most famous other feature example is Waltz with Bashir, about the director’s time in the Israeli army. Even as you move to shorts, Walt Disney got in on the act with some World War II propaganda Victory through Air Power. It’s in the realm of shorts that we find another example of innovative animated war time propaganda: 1918’s The Sinking of the Lusitania.
If you’re thinking to yourself that the Lusitania sounds familiar, it should. The British-owned steamship was torpedoed on May 7, 1915, killing 1,915 people — including 123 Americans. The act helped to stoke anti-German sentiment in the United States and, as the Library of Congress notes, is a turning point in the history of modern warfare. The man behind the film, Winsor McCay, is one of the early masters of the animated art, creating comic strips for the papers, political cartoons, and his animated films, which also include Gertie the Dinosaur.
As previously stated, this is a propaganda film, so that should be taken into account as watching. One of the narrative title cards (or intertitle) setting up the attack stated that Germany had, “benumbed the world with its wholesale killing, then sent its instrument of crime to perform a more treacherous and cowardly offense.” Not a statement anyone would characterize as even-handed in the slightest. Acknowledging the film’s point of view is certainly something that should be taken into account when watching this movie. However, the feat of animation is something still worth examining.
Before getting into the actual animation aspect of the film, it starts off with background of McCay being shown some items and interesting facts about the work — including how much work went into the nearly two-year project. According to the film, 25,000 drawings had to be made to complete the 12-minute film, which only has animation starting at about the 1:40 mark. There’s also context on the intertitle cards, which intercut the animation (including an “in memoriam” portion for a few of the notable passengers). That means maybe half of the film’s run time is animated. Think how much work had to be done just to get the mere minutes that the film produced.
Our first glimpse of animation starts with the sea, and (as the cards tell us) is where McCay’s work on the animation began. Though simplistic, the waves show good solid movement. However, there are some profile shots of the boat where the sea is just white against the shadow of the ship, where it doesn’t quite work as well. Likewise, when the U-boat is shown approaching, the way in which the top of the boat descend below the surface is quite smooth for such early animation and a credit to the early use of cel style animation.
When it comes to the actual attack itself, it very much steps up the flair for the dramatic, both in the animation and the orchestral score accompanying the pictures. The animated film hyped as the only recording of what happens, but it’s here where you can see his background as an animator and cartoonist. Fish dodge the torpedo under water and the attack itself looks very cartoon-y with how the explosion is rendered. Despite some of the overwrought music, rhetoric, and cartoonish animation, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t effective. The animation after the second torpedo is allowed to just play out a little more and is thus more effective. The depictions of those abandoning ship as it goes down is still powerful.
The film was the longest work of animation at the time of its release and was innovative for its use of cel and was selected for preservation by the National Film Registry in 2017. Is the tone of the film problematic, viewing it through modern eyes? Obviously. We’ve all gotten a thorough lesson in the importance of looking at where our information is coming from with a critical eye over the last few years. However, as long as you can recognize the biases in the narrative aspect of the film and eye-roll your way through the rhetoric, The Sinking of the Lusitania still provides an excellent example of early innovative animation worth spending a few minutes on. It’s considered a classic for a reason.
I’m excited to continue to geek out on some great animated work you may not have had a chance to catch. Haven’t exactly pinned down what I’m looking at for next month, but I look forward to bringing you a something new.
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