I’ll admit: I went into a screening of “Beowulf” wanting to like it, but expecting to hate it. An hour into the film I had arrived at neither of those destinations, but instead wore an unfocused expression much like our sullen friend there - only with 3D glasses to disguise the boredom. At one point, I even settled into my seat for a quick nap. I thought it might be the tryptophan, but then I remembered that I hadn’t eaten a turkey. I was unfortunately watching one. Which is a shame, because a number of my friends and colleagues put a lot of phenomenal work into this film, and it’s a great accomplishment. But then again, I expect to see “great accomplishments” when I go to the movies (especially at $12.50 a ticket). The technology only gets better and better, and we inevitably grow more proficient with it as we pursue our craft. The thing is, I also hope to see great films… and “Beowulf” is unfortunately not one to write home about.
To be clear, I don’t expect high “Art” from a fantasy/adventure film, but at the very least I do expect my interest and emotions to be engaged. The problem with “Beowulf” in a nutshell is this: the adaptation is flat and pedantic, and the film lacks the visceral presence of real actors that it might otherwise fall back upon in an attempt to save itself. Consider Peter Jackson’s “Lord Of The Rings” trilogy. One could argue that most lines of dialogue in LOTR are no more sophisticated than the clunky eye-rollers in “Beowulf” such as “No wonder my loins are burning!”, but the performances of Ian McKellen, Viggo Mortensen, Elijah Wood et al carry the day - irrespective of the “great accomplishment” in special effects that those films also represent. In fact, the characters were so engaging that I was able to disregard the occasional bad matte, sloppy makeup job or wanky character deformation. As a colleague of mine once observed: “If the audience is being entertained, they’ll forgive anything.”
So, when are performances facilitated by technology, and when are they consumed by it? When is the cinematic language of a film extended by technology, and when is it ironically constrained by all the “unlimited freedom”? This is not a general indictment of performance capture, nor of synthetic actors. Both have their uses and both improve with each outing - although one may consider that the Holy Grail of the perfect synthetic actor is much like the speed of light: we may draw very close through considerable effort, but never quite arrive at it. The Uncanny Valley will always be in our periphery, no matter how much we focus on the prize.
So, let’s get the “easy” technical observations about “Beowulf” out of the way. The quality of the performance capture continues to improve, although it is still plagued with a stiff, herky-jerky quality that looks more “automated” than “organic”. Hands engage objects as though the actors were wearing sophisticated prosthetic limbs, eyes tend to stare vacantly (note to all: please study Weta’s work on “King Kong”), and faces readily lapse into an expressionless waxy mask. Interestingly enough, I thought that these problems were far more evident in the first two acts of the film than they were in the final act, which I understand was largely hand-animated. Is there a connection? Or is it simply that techniques and artistry improved by the end of the film, as they often do? Or is it some combination of the two?
The problem with “Beowulf” is unfortunately one of direction. I love Robert Zemeckis’ films, and respect how he embraces technology, but he seems to be gleefully sliding into the same high-tech amusement park that George Lucas got lost in many years ago. It’s ironic that director Gil Kenan, fresh out of school, displayed a more sophisticated command of performance capture and synthetic actors in “Monster House” than the legendary Mr. Zemeckis does in “Beowulf”. Whereas Kenan danced skillfully with the technology to the benefit of “Monster House”, Zemeckis embraces “Beowulf” like Uncle Al at a wedding after he’s had a few. Look, I understand that I’m watching a 3D film. In fact, the technology and its application have grown so sophisticated that I am happily able to forget I am watching a 3D film, and simply enjoy being present in the environment. So when the director starts throwing things at the screen, like David Letterman dropping watermelons from a rooftop to see how they splatter, I am suddenly and forcibly reminded that I am looking at something as opposed to being in something. I am effectively disengaged. The giddy, “Awesome!!!” factor that motivates this problem is inevitable with any dawning technology, but it’s ironic that we haven’t progressed so far from the early days of motion pictures (before they became “cinema”) when crowds would jam into sideshow tents to gawk at onrushing projected trains.
The insidious problem of disengagement also extends to the performances of the actors. When Crispin Glover crows in the press that, “Every movement you see on the screen is mine!” (like a 2-year-old proud his poop) you see “acting” reduced to its lowest common denominator. The faithful translation of the mechanics of movement has become an “accomplishment” that an actor is pleased to report. Once again, this is not a criticism of the technology itself, but rather a problem of its application and direction. Does Andy Serkis spend much time talking about the “faithful translation of his movement”? No. As much as possible, he discusses his characters and their motivation. And you see the results onscreen. When this much time, money and effort is invested in a film, a director owes it to the audience, to the crew and to themselves to make the story, the characters and the experience count! Anything less is a disservice and a waste, and could ironically result in an indictment of the technology much as lackluster story development resulted in the damning of 2D animation earlier in this decade.
Sony Imageworks Visual Effects Supervisor Jerome Chen makes a couple of telling comments in the December 2007 issue of Animation Magazine. The first is when he observes of “Beowulf”: “The minutia involved was pretty mind-boggling. This is a thousand times more detailed than Polar. It was the hardest movie I’ve ever made, definitely.” He goes on to say, “I had no idea we’d end up like this. We set out to be more stylized, but as a result of seeing the performances from the actors translated onto the digital characters, the look became more real.” Which begs the obvious question: upon that realization, why not just shoot the real actors? If “Beowulf” is being approached as a film, the best interests of story and revenue may well call for that “brave” decision. However, if “Beowulf” is being approached as a science project, then perhaps it makes some sense to proceed down the rabbit hole into the Uncanny Valley. But it certainly doesn’t make “cents”. 
A few years ago, a producer once told me that he regarded performance capture as “listening to the Beatles through a pair of crappy speakers.” Without a doubt, the “speakers” have improved since that comment. But given the opportunity, I still prefer my bands live. Or else, like Gorillaz, with some style.
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.