The Animation Options Blog

The State Administration of Radio, Film and Television (SARFT) announced earlier today that the Beijing Cultural and Creative Industry Cluster Area, the animation film/TV industrial zone in the Xiamen Software Park, and the animation industrial park in the Shenyang High-tech Industrial Development Zone have officially been designated as the fourth generation of national animation industry bases.

There are now 18 national animation industry bases and 8 national animation instruction and research bases throughout mainland China.

This may prove interesting. As reported in the Wall Street Journal, Animation World Network and elsewhere this week, DreamWorks and Indian media company Reliance have inked a deal to create a new $1.2 billion studio.

Like many in the animation industry, I did a double-take, since DreamWorks Animation’s partnership with Thomson Technicolor at Indian animation studio Paprikas is already well-known. So, another DW studio in India?

The distinction is that the deal just announced is between Reliance and DreamWorks Pictures. DreamWorks Animation spun off into its own publicly-traded company in 2004 (with animated films distributed by Paramount, but fully independent). Live-action “studio” DreamWorks Pictures was purchased by Viacom (parent company of Paramount) in 2006, and there’s been no love lost between the DW players and the Paramount folks since that time.

So, here’s the billion-dollar question: will the new DreamWorks/Reliance studio distribute animated films created by DreamWorks Animation at Paprikas? Or will the new studio create its own animation division that will in effect compete with Paprikas - pitting “DreamWorks against DreamWorks”?

Time will tell… or perhaps a commentator will below.

I came across this clip from a Q & A session following my presentation on Disney’s “Chicken Little” at the 2005 International Forum for Digital Media Art in Taipei, in which I respond to an audience member’s question on the significance of vocal performances.

Although brief, it underscores the importance of the animator’s presence at recording sessions.

Last but not least, here is excerpt #4 from my informal presentation on independent film business planning, delivered at the Griffith University Film School in Brisbane.

This clip includes partial coverage my take on the fundamentals of distribution pitches (teaser, comparative analysis, etc…) and the ins and outs of distributor feedback.

Once again, the document that I refer to in this presentation is the Animation Options “Independent Animated Feature Film Development & Production Plan”, which is freely available on the AO “Resources” page.

Cheers! ~KG

Here is excerpt #3 from my presentation on independent film business planning at Griffith University in Brisbane.

In this clip I touch upon test screenings and the greenlight process.

Excerpt #2 from my presentation on indie film business planning at Griffith University in Brisbane.

In this segment, I riff on development funding & business plans, development teams & advisory team and investor presentations.

BTW, the document that I refer to in this presentation is the Animation Options “Independent Animated Feature Film Development & Production Plan”, which is freely available on the AO “Resources” page.

The AO Channel on YouTube now features excerpt #1 from my informal presentation on independent film business planning, delivered at the Griffith University Film School in Brisbane this past May, at the behest of my friend and colleague Craig Caldwell.

As you can see, the kangaroo burger I had for lunch was not doing me any favors.

In yesterday’s Yahoo! Finance section, Anne Altman concluded her article “Tips From A Bitter Temp” with a passage that could have been written by any animator or TD:

Settle in. Master the language. Sip the Kool-Aid. But remember: you could be out on a moment’s notice. I was once denied a dollar-an-hour raise. At first I was insulted. But the next week two execs were canned with no notice, led down the hall like criminals, and spirited out with a “We’ll mail you the contents of your desk.” Young guys right out of college were speechless. Me? I poured myself a bowl of Corn Pops and sat back down in my Aeron chair.

There was a period of time during the 90’s when animation was booming, major studios were warring for talent, and each round of year-end bonuses turned parking lots into “new car dealerships”, with SUVs and BMWs sprouting up like daisies. The salad days, we called them. At the time, it seemed conceivable (particularly to the young ‘uns) that you could spend the majority of your career at a single studio, doing rewarding work with an ever-increasing standard of living, just like our grandparents planned to do with General Motors. Sounds quaint in retrospect, doesn’t it?

Well, the salad days are clearly over, yet many employees still find themselves caught like deer in the headlights when they are suddenly handed those cardboard boxes - especially those who labor under the pretense that they are working for a “family”. Sure, buying into the “family” line gives you a big warm fuzzy during the good times, but it’s all the more devastating when you are abruptly shown the door. Where the studio “family” is concerned, you’re better off regarding yourself as a foster child rather than a blood relative. Or else remembering that it’s the Corleone family.

Even more shocking to many so-called “staff” is when they find themselves caught in the undertow of exiting “project hires”. I spoke to one such individual recently who was stunned to receive his exit packet along with the “temporary” employees. He thought he was “staff”, but learned the hard way that in an “at-will” world, we’re ALL temp. When push comes to shove, you will be pushed and shoved.

Which isn’t to say that you can’t remain gainfully employed (whether at one studio or a series of them), make a good living and create a satisfying career for yourself. Just don’t get lulled into the “security” of the Velvet Coffin (as one Burbank studio has been wryly referred to). As long as you’re mindful of the words of Charles De Gaulle, that “The graveyards are full of indispensible men,” you’ll at least see it coming.

In the meantime, have a bowl of Corn Pops and get back to work!

At the SIGGRAPH 2008 conference in Los Angeles this past week, I saw one of the the most depressing student films ever made. It was shown during a panel I participated in entitled, “Teaching Computer Animation For Results”, hosted by my old friend Craig Caldwell of the Griffith University Film School in Brisbane. Each of the four presenters focused upon an educational segment (I drew the “graduate” straw). The short film in question was screened during the undergraduate level portion. In it, a flabby animator pulls an all-nighter in his cubicle. He stares at the cavorting cartoon character on his monitor and wearily laments, “I use to like bears.” Noticing that his coffee pot is empty, he gets up to leave his cube in search of more java. But his ergonomic chair blocks his exit - subtly at first, and then with mounting confrontation. The animator’s desperate attempts to escape this nightmare prove futile as he is forced back into the chair - which “soothingly” rubs his shoulders as he sobs uncontrollably before his unsympathetic monitor: slave to the mis en scene.

The beat outline for this film was described as follows:

• An animator pulls an all-nighter during crunch time
• He notices that he is out of coffee
• The animator tries to leave his cubicle to get more
• He is prevented from doing so by his chair
• The animator learns that there is no time for coffee during crunch time
• He learns that he should do his work without complaint

Somebody slit my wrists now… please. Frankly, I’d expect this sort of “story” from an animation school in North Korea - not from one located in the Southeastern United States. Needless to say, the student filmmaker has probably already been gobbled up by a major studio who is happy to see that someone “gets it”. Who wouldn’t want an employee who “understands” that they can’t leave their cubicle for a cuppa?

Now, I’m no pollyanna. As an animation industry vet, I’ve seen the good, the bad and the ugly. I’ve put in my share of overtime - burning the midnight oil on studio assignments and independent projects alike. I’ve dealt with work-induced RSI, back pain, stress and exhaustion. I know the realities of our business, and it’s not all kittens and unicorns (even when we may be animating kittens and unicorns). So, I wasn’t bothered by the fact that the film’s hapless protagonist didn’t get to take his prescribed union coffee break, or was probably working unpaid OT, or had clearly let his health and personal life go to pot in the service of a menial “effects wizard” position. What bothered me was the loss of fire in the belly, underscored by the opening gag line: “I used to like bears.” Here was a self-portrait (or soon-to-be self-portrait) of an artist whose spark was extinguished, who was forced to sit at his desk and feed the machine without pause like one of those human Duracells in “The Matrix”. There’s nothing wrong with “paying your dues”, but NOT at the cost of your soul.

Ironically, this was a perfect segue into my own segment on the graduate level. The three hallmarks of a graduate education in computer graphics & animation as I see them (based upon my tripod of experience as a graduate student, professor, and recruiting animation supervisor) are as follows:

• Building a bridge: to the industry, academia and/or private practice
• Learning how to learn
• Finding your voice

In addressing these points, the seminal question that I posed to the SIGGRAPH audience was this: “What are you preparing your students for?”

• …a job?
• …a career?
• …or a vocation?

While these three are not mutually exclusive, they are hierarchical. There’s certainly nothing wrong with a job. We all need one - coming in handy as they do for little things like clothes on your back, food in your belly and a roof over your head. But one can easily shlep along from job to job without any sense of a career arc, which is the next level up. Preparing a student for a job involves training, while preparing a student for a career requires education: if job preparation addresses the buttons and menus, then career preparation addresses the concepts and principles underlying those buttons and menus. And vocation preparation addresses the vision that these functional aspects serve. The distinction between career and vocation is that between artisan and artist: the distinction between the hand and the heart. And even the major studios need more of the latter, whether they know it or not.

Which brings me to the subject of the animation industry’s relationship to academia - a dissertation in itself, but something that I will touch upon briefly here. On my flight to Taipei a couple days ago, I was flipping through the latest issue of 3D World magazine, and came across an article in which industry “pressure group” Games Up? was bemoaning the skills crisis in UK games development, and laying blame squarely at the feet of UK schools and universities. In the first place, let me observe that the stance of “pressure group” is very telling, and significantly different than that of “support group”. A “pressure group” is a pointed finger, while a “support group” is a helping hand. And guess which one is superior in terms of intention, commitment and results? My suspicions regarding the attitude of the companies in question were confirmed by a subsequent comment in which an art director spoke ruefully of CG candidates with “salary issues”. Note to companies: like it or not, when demand exceeds supply - as it clearly does in the landscape addressed by the CG World article - any “salary issues” belong to YOU, not your prospective employees. That sword cuts both ways.

The article posed the question: “Are graduates up to the job?” I’d like to turn that right around and ask: “Are companies up to the job?” Are companies willing to partner with schools to create mutually-enriching programs? Are companies willing to democratically support the percentage that is “irrelevant” to them, in order to more effectively seed and leverage upon the percentage that is “relevant”? Are companies brave enough to pleasantly surprise themselves by looking for talent outside of their cookie cutter preconceptions (anyone remember the days before “digital content departments”, when CG artists came from the ranks of biology, architecture and dance programs)? Are companies forward-thinking enough to realize that what they want today is not necessarily what they need tomorrow? And are companies committed enough that if they can’t find what they need today, they don’t just stand there pointing fingers from the self-satisfied ring of their “pressure group”? Rather, they invite schools into their circle: they get involved. It’s a symbiotic relationship, and the more prescient studios - such as Sony Imageworks with their IPAX program - are already wise to this.

That said, I’ll advance the “radical” liberal arts notion that there’s more to an education than turning out “a good little worker bee”. As a student, you should ask yourself: “Do I want to be a drone, or a trailblazer?” And as an institution of higher learning, you should examine yourself: “Do we want to turn out graduates who slot neatly into the job opening of existing production companies, or do we want to turn out graduates who revolutionize the industry, and knock those companies on their @sses?” What is the more inspiring goal? Which philosophy best serves our students (and ultimately our industry) in the long run?

And to the kid and his instructors responsible for the short film about the animator trapped at his desk, take it from a seasoned pro: there’s ALWAYS time for coffee!

Recently, a young animator posted the following question on the Animation Nation bulletin board:

I am wondering, if there is a really famous artist coming into your studio to give a talk on animation - when I say famous, I mean really famous - is it really a good idea to show them your portfolio and try to make contacts, especially when you just came out from school and started all new and fresh in the studio? I have been trying hard to learn “networking” like everyone tells me to. But I find it sometimes embarassing to try to show your portfolio to these great artists. They are all nice people, but there are zillions of people like me who want to show them their work, and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable since they are all so busy. And I also feel doing so kind of makes them feel I want to get a job from them, when I actually just want to show my work and like to know what they think, and yeah, probably get some contacts? And plus, they are so famous, who would pay attention to me who just came out?

My advice was rather pointed:

Just walk up at the end of the talk, introduce yourself, and pay them a compliment. Make it short and sweet, and then get the hell out of the way so the next person has a moment. Nothing is worse (for everyone, including the invited artist) than someone trying to glom on with their portfolio at a public event. It’s desperate and pathetic. And if you were pulling that at a studio under my employ, your @ss would be out the door so fast, your head would spin!

The poor kid said that I “scared” him… which was exactly my intention - not to be cruel, but to hopefully dissuade him from making the common mistake that so many do when it comes to networking.

Networking is about RELATIONSHIPS, not about glomming on to big names. It’s about creating and maintaining personal connections, and it’s ironically most meaningful and effective when you don’t want anything. Nevertheless, so many people embarrass themselves and exhaust the goodwill of others by swarming at public events: “gnatworking”, I call it.

The animator who asked the question above actually has the answers already. He knows that the artist is extremely busy, he knows that he’s one of many people who want a piece of the artist’s time, and he’s aware of the uncomfortable “grasping” impression that his portfolio flapping could give. Yet he can’t help himself.

Now most individuals approached in these situations will be extremely nice and accommodating. (I always am - spending a great amount of time after speaking engagements looking at portfolios and laptops.) But I can tell you from experience that nothing is more appreciated than when someone introduces themself, says a few words, hands over a business card or a DVD, and then moves along. You don’t want to get on someone’s “life-is-too-short” list, especially when they’re coming off a long presentation, trying to make sure that they don’t leave anything behind at the podium, and hoping to find the nearest bathroom.

Beyond introducing yourself and offering a leave-behind, there’s nothing you have to show in that moment that can’t wait until later. It’s not as though the artist in question is going to see your work, have their mind blown, and helicopter you off to their secret volcano studio. If it’s feedback you’re after, you can get it via email if the artist is so inclined. And if it’s a job you’re after, handing over a demo reel or providing the URL of an online portfolio will do just fine. In fact, you may be barking up the wrong tree altogether - especially with the “famous” artists who often aren’t the ones who can (or will) help you. And in a workplace situation, you certainly run the risk of making a treasonous impression on your current boss by showing your portfolio to an invited guest - especially if they are trying to scrape you off of their leg so they can get to your employer’s catered lunch.

So, back to our animator’s question. Permit me to embellish on my blunt forum response with these additional suggestions:

1.) During the Q&A segment of an artist’s presentation, ask the following question: “I’m sure that there will be many questions about this great presentation that you won’t have time to answer here. Could we please have your email address so that we may correspond with you at your convenience?” This will accomplish two (potentially three) things: one - your fellow attendees will love you for asking, two - whether or not the artist provides their email will tell you something about the type of person they are, and three - if they consent, you’ll have their contact information. And once you have it, don’t abuse it! Keep your inquiries short and sweet, and don’t pester if replies are not forthcoming. People are busy. (For what it’s worth, I always include my email address at the end of every seminar, lecture or presentation. It’s a good habit for speakers to acquire.)

2.) If you REALLY must show the artist in question a sample of your work in the moment, then you might try the following (rather cheesy) idea: do a great drawing of the artist, sign it with your email address, and write something along the lines of “To _______________, thank you for being such an inspiration to me!” Keep it small, frame it, and hand it to the artist at the end of their presentation. In short, make it easy for them NOT to throw it away. I once gave Ray Harryhausen a signed & dedicated copy of my independent animated short “Henry’s Garden” as he was signing a copy of his compilation DVD for me. I’m sure he probably tossed the disc, but it doesn’t matter. He truly is an inspiration to me, and I wanted him to have it. And of course, Ray was very nice about it.

3.) The “gold standard” of networking: LUNCH. You may not get that “famous artist” to meet with you (due either to limited time or limited inclination), but you never know unless you ask. Email an invitation, ask them to name a time and place at THEIR convenience, and be sure to tell them that it’s on you. I make it a point to lunch with one or two people a week, on every link of the animation food chain - from production assistants to CEOs (NOTE: not only “famous artists”, but also current and future movers and shakers). The information, connections and opportunities that I’ve acquired in exchange for plates of pasta has been invaluable.

4.) Get on a professional networking site. I prefer LinkedIn, and have received many productive leads from my active utilization of it. Relevant niche sites include vfxConnection, but I find LinkedIn to be the most comprehensive. It’s all too easy to get sucked into maintaining redundant profiles on multiple sites, so choose carefully. And keep in mind what the point is. You don’t want to abuse the service by connecting with strangers in a desperate (or arrogant) bid to hoard connections for connections sake - like Scrat stroking his nuts in “Ice Age”. You see this from time to time online, with some individuals proudly wearing their obsession like a mantle: “Johnny Blowhard, The LinkedIn Lizard King: 6000+ Connections!” Whatever, dude.

5.) Be helpful. Do things for others, for no apparent reason other than to be colleagial. The good karma will come back around to you from unexpected directions, in ways that you cannot anticipate but you will definitely appreciate.

In short, remember that networking is not about making contacts, it’s about building relationships. So, go ahead and drop me a line! I’ll be happy to hear from you.

Kevin Geiger
Animation Options LLC
kevingeiger@animationoptions.com