Steph Spams

Coco is a beautifully animated movie about family. While plenty of live-action movies cover this same topic, there’s just something about Coco being stylized in such a way that it makes the experience better. Animated movies have a magic that just cannot be replicated in strictly real life, but it can draw upon real life. You see, movies like this are able to utilize both the fantasy of cartoon and grittiness of real life together to create a purposeful contrast that’s visually striking. For a better understanding, let’s take a closer look into specific design choices of the movie. Coco uses artistic animation during the scene where Dante changes from his regular dog form to his spirit guide form. While Dante the dog is cartooned in proportion, the art of the animated movie gives his body a rough skin texture.  Dante’s regular dog form has little to no fur, so you are able to see much of his skin, including moles and discolored patches. His muscle movements also stand out sin

Tim Burton has a bizarre style of imagination, his auteur, that makes his films recognizable among audiences. Burton is known well for his creepy character design, and similar types can be found in both his animated and live action movies. Edward, for example, is very thin, pale, and has long fingers, or, rather, scissors for fingers. This design captures the audience in the same way another character of his, Jack Skellington, does. Jack, while animated, shares Edward’s pale complexion, think and lanky build, and long, skinny fingers. While Jack does not have scissors for hands, they are instead bone, giving a similar sharp and exaggerated appearance. Both characters wear elaborate black outfits and have bulging eyes, or, rather, in Jack’s case, eye sockets. Both of these characters are also misunderstood by society around them, a common trait of the protagonist in all of his movies. Tim developed much of these characters, namely Jack and Edward, in school, and perhaps

What a surprisingly good “coming of age” story. I watched American Graffiti recently, a movie set in 1962 following multiple interlocking subplots with the various characters. It’s more character driven than anything. The group splits off into their own plot lines for development during what has to be the longest night to ever sit through. In fact, the entire movie is comprised of these splitting subplots. Sometimes they overlap, influencing each other by causing some minor conflict, or moving another character’s story forward by showing up just at the right time. But, other than what feels like the occasional cameo, each character’s story seems to function independently. So, what connects them, if it isn’t exactly the plot tying them together? What seemed at first to me as the most annoying, static-blasting quality of the movie turned out to be my favorite part. The subplots can all influence each other, but outside of those quick instances, the stories tell separately. S