
In the new Robert Zemeckis film, The Polar Express, Chris Van Allsburg's dreamy illustrations are animated by way of a new three-dimensional CGI technology called "performance capture." In this process, real actors (Tom Hanks plays most of them) are wired with small sensors attached to a network of digital cameras that simultaneously record three-dimensional facial and body movements in 360-degree views. (In production shots, the sensors themselves are attached to the actors' faces, making them look as though they've been overcome by a rather advanced case of digital acne.)
Meanwhile, Pixar's latest foray into cinematic invention captures more than just performance, and is, therefore, incredible for a number of reasons not least of which is the fact that it's not even remotely time-pegged to Christmas.
So what's so incredible about The Incredibles? It's not the brilliantly detailed portrayal of modern superhero culture writ large. It's not the witty, demented parody of celebrity hero-worship positioned against the rampant passivity of civilian laissez-faire. It's not their agility, their bravery or their will, their strength or their stamina, or even their ability to produce force fields at the dinner table.
No: what's incredible isn't performance capture but another phenomenon altogether. What's incredible about The Incredibles is the art of design capture. Because when it comes to nailing design, the "Is" have it.
The Incredibles dwell in a kind of extraordinary dystopia, at once a celebration and an exaggeration of Eames-era modernism. Flanking either side of their suburban abode are split-level houses whose bland facades are punctuated by rows of tailored boxwoods: they're robotic stand-ins, a kind of horticultural mutation of Stepford-wife stupor. Inside the house, chairs and tables sport blonde, Danish wood finishes, a mid-century palette further amplified by hints of color: chartreuse upholstery and avocado appliances form the perfect backdrop for a duo of wizened heroes who've been retired from active duty.
Yet as the pace quickens and the action builds, the design does too. Slick designer vehicles (think Philippe Starck on steroids) transport us to new architectural destinations: here are sites dotted by grand concrete allées, framed by volcanic window treatments and walls of perfectly gridded weaponry. Even Syndrome, the villain's sensurround computer screen is well-designed, boasting well-kerned Bank Gothic letterforms within an icy blue-grey interface. It's design run amok, at once exquisite and terrifying: Fritz Lang's Metropolis meets Frank Lloyd Wright's Imperial Hotel in Japan.
Yet beyond the fear factor, design is also featured as deliriously comical. Arriving at the estate of Edna Mode, visitors are led up a manicured hillside to an International Style house of uncertain provenance. Edna's diminutive size (she admits to three-foot-eight) makes the scale of her minimally furnished home seem even more preposterous: from the Miesian lobby to the Bulthaup-inspired industrial kitchen (and let's not forget the George Nelson benches) it's an aesthetic travesty: design beyond reach. Edna herself is a kind of cross between the diminutive actress Linda Hunt and the design impresario Murray Moss with dashes of Anna Wintour and Edith Head thrown in for good measure. In Edna's domain, design manifests as a kind of Napoleonic obsession. A devout minimalist permanently clad in monochromatic shades of black and grey, she's the ultimate cartoon embodiment of design. True to form, a glance at her profile reveals that while Mr. Incredible's special power is "strength" and Elastigirl's is "flexibility," Edna's is simply listed as "designer."
The Zemeckis film has, of course, its own artistic merit: one scene at the North Pole features an Elf-manned command center, with an enormous obelisk made up of hundreds of round-edged black and white television screens, allowing the elves to monitor a world of sleeping children. (More echoes of Fritz Lang here.) But performance capture leaves you feeling like someone introduced an auto-pilot feature in Photoshop: in the end, it's all too mechanically perfect, and no amount of dreamy illustration or, for that matter, piped-in Bing Crosby holiday favorites can fill the void.
Pixar's technical contribution to computer animation is the art of texture mapping which, like performance capture, raises the bar for what's visually achievable from storyboard to silver screen. But special effects are only half the battle and, at Pixar, they're the second half. One has only to acknowledge the attention to morality (The Guardian's Oliver Burkeman and Peter Conrad have both called it "Nietzschian") and consider the characters funny, flawed and yes, flabby to understand that at Pixar, the play's the thing. But that's not all: take one look at their signature character the deliciously anthropomorphized Luxo lamp and you'll agree that design looms large in this new world vision. And thanks to Edna Mode, we now we have our very own superhero to prove it.
Comments [34]
11.15.04
12:36
The theme of the movie (trying to recapture the 'glory-days') was well depicted I thought.
The architecture, costumes, ESPECIALLY all the "printed' props from the insurance company's logo to the "wall of fame' were spectacular. Even the names of the superheroes were clever...I mean c'mon...Gazer Beam? Tradewind? HA!
11.15.04
02:01
11.15.04
05:18
11.15.04
09:06
1. My wife and I went and saw "The Incredibles" the day after the election, an attempt to escape our depression of having to endure the current presidential admission for four more years.
It was the perfect antidote -- for two hours, anyway.
2. All of Pixar's movies tend to focus heavily on aesthetics (obviously), with a pretty deep and informed sense of design history. (For instance, the variety of monsters in "Monsters Inc." brought the work of J. Otto Seibold, Charles Addams, Maurice Sendak and Jim Flora to mind, among others.)
But for "The Incredibles" specifically, I think the near-obsessive emphasis on design was partly due to the fact that this was Pixar's first foray into a human-led story (as opposed to the characters being toys, bugs, monsters or fish), and they correctly opted for a stylized, comic-book feel that would be more palatable to audiences than a realistic depiction of people.
To lessen the cartooniness of it all, employing a delirious but sophisticated array of design in every aspect of the movie -- from the leaves of the tropical trees to the shape of the enemy robots, and culminating in the cutely insufferable Edna Mode -- was really smart and effective, particularly in wrangling the attention of adults into the film (which is another Pixar specialty).
3. I actually had Design Observer in mind while watching the end credits (having just read the "Napoleon Dynamite" post here beforehand), which were as truly exuberant and playful as any movie graphics I've seen, a real treat.
At the end of the movie, in typical moderne fashion, familiar images are flattened, smoothed and altogether distilled into their sexiest, boldest, most colorful fundamental forms, moving from one graphic collage to another at breakneck speed over a raucous 007-esque score in a notably two-dimenisonal format. It's akin to Kuntzel + Deygas' terrifically executed opening sequence in "Catch Me If You Can" -- but way more rad, at least to me.
Given the amount of attention (and study) that film intro title sequences are receiving at present, I've wondered why ending credits are almost never given the same innovative, detailed treatment by filmmakers. (An educated guess: the vast majority of movie audiences never stick around for them. You can almost hear the studio head bellowing: "Why waste money on fancy credits -- the one part of the movie people are sure to walk out on?")
The end faux-bloopers in "Toy Story," etc., have always been a crowd favorite -- and a hilarious po-mo leap in the context of animation -- so it doesn't surprise me that the smarties at Pixar concentrated on this usually ignored cinematic area.
4. Even more than its ground-breaking, industry-changing visual work, Pixar's cinematic success has been predicated on the simplest, oldest and most important tool: a good story.
For light, pop, blockbuster cinema, the writing in Pixar movies has (to me anyway) been consistently terrific, or at least more so than 99 percent of every other movie that's hit the No. 1 box-office spot for the last 15 years. (It may not be masterpiece quality a la "Glengarry Glen Ross" or "Annie Hall," but it sure beats the pants off of "Dumb and Dumberer 2" and "Booty Call.")
The crafting and development of a good plot, characters, dialogue and overall message has been a lead concern for Pixar, as they're smart enough to know that eye candy goes nowhere -- and makes little profit in ticket sales -- without the backbone of a solid story.
This is why Pixar, with its six fine movies at present, is still batting 1.000 with me, and why it serves as one of my many inspirations from a design and writing standpoint. (Even my most anti-establishment, subvert-the-mainstream-and-destroy-the-monoculture pals begrudgingly admit that Pixar movies are quality stuff.)
Bringing this point back to graphic design -- and without stretching it too much -- I think Pixar's model is a concrete example of form following fucntion: that, aside from purely decorative work, a lovely visual style without strong, evocative -- or at least comprehensible -- content is an empty shell.
In Design Oberserver terms, without the foundation of (and direct connection to) strong content, a magnificent graphic treatment will inevitably ring shallow and lack any power but immediate impact, and will only have as much depth and effect as the average viewer's attention span will allow.
That's what those of us who aren't blessed enough to work at Pixar -- allegedly one of the greatest employers in the nation -- can learn from them: more than just tickle the collective optic nerve, the visuals we make should, by and large, attempt to speak to people and have some connection to a broader statement, to some degree.
Sure, I know: DUH. That's basic 101 stuff for everybody here, and exactly what we're all striving for. But that little reminder helps me get out of bed every morning and labor over layouts and stuff for 10 hours straight -- and still be enthralled throughout.
11.16.04
12:34
11.16.04
02:54
Perhaps if John Kerry had been produced by Pixar he'd be the President Elect.
11.16.04
06:31
11.16.04
09:35
11.17.04
07:47
11.17.04
09:00
A better candidate for Pixar's key contribution might be the introduction of programmable shading, which is representative of the thoughtful design and architecture of Pixar's software. The flexibility and degree of control it provides are key to the realism (or artificiality) of Pixar's images.
The design philosophy is discussed in an interview with one of Pixar's software architects, Rob Cook.
11.17.04
10:59
11.17.04
01:55
The reason for such a sublime feature is the succint realization of every design aspect related to film in general and to the comic book genre upon which the Incredibles is based. There are no weak scenes or distracting filmed humans to worry us and something about adult minded cartoons just makes it that much easier to relax and enjoy (everybody should watch Sealab 2021 to see the extreme of what I mean).
Also, the robot was the perfect synthesis of form, function, and process, and is probably one of the coolest inhumane henchman ever.
11.17.04
02:24
11.18.04
02:08
11.18.04
03:07
It may be worth noting that the director, Brad Bird, was the voice of Edna; he may collect crazy designers the way some people collect Venini.
11.21.04
07:21
11.21.04
04:01
Other than that detail I quite agree with Jon Resh's analysis...in retrospect. I was having too much fun to dissect the movie while watching. I particularly enjoyed the quick thefts of visual themes from other movies, like Spider Man's upside down smooch.
11.22.04
10:41
11.22.04
09:29
11.23.04
12:05
Check out the "Art of Incredibles" book if you want to see what's behind this team. They're the best designers in film today--animated or not.
11.24.04
12:27
I NEVER LIKED THE BIG GUYS 'STEROID-CHIN' WHICH
HAS BEEN 'DESIGNED' TO DEATH,WITH OTHER 'V' SHAPED SUPER-HEROS BODIES,AND ON THE + SIDE, I LOVED THE LITTLE 'ONE EYED' GIRL,AND REALLY LIKED THE LITTLE LADY THAT LIVED IN AN HUGE MANSION AND DESIGNED THE COSTUMES,AS SHE HAD THIS GREAT ACCENT
+ CLEVER SARCASTIC LINES,ALL IN THAT THICK EUROPEAN ACCENT.
SAD TO SAY, I FELT I WAS IN A VERY GOOD VIDEO GAME,PART OF THE TIME,BUT HAD NO OBJECTIONS,EXCEPT WAS THINKING ; DID EISNER DEMAND THIS FOR LATER-COMMERCIAL EXPLOITATION FOR VIDEO GAMES-NOT GOOD.NO WONDER PIXAR DUMPED THEM.AND DID DISNEY DEMAND THAT THEY THROW IN ONE 'BLACK CHARACTER' DUDE,(ICE MAN-I LIKED HIM) FOR THE 'BLACK APPEASMENT AUDIENCES' WHO MAY NOT SEE IT IF THERE WERE NO BLACK SUPERHEROS?
JUST ONE TIME, I WOULD LIKE TO SEE A MOVIE THAT DOES NOT PANDER TO MASS MARKETING 'INSERTS' WHICH ARE GLARINGLY OBVIOUS IN MOST ANIMATED FLICKS.
THIS WAS THE BEST-YET ANIMATED FLICK I HAVE SEEN, BUT THERE IS MUCH MORE TO IMPROVE UPON,WHICH I HPOE AN UNFETTERED PIXAR WILL CREATE,FOR THE FUTURE. I DID LIKE WHAT THE MOVIE HAD IN TERMS OF 'FLOW' AS IT KEPT ONE ALERT INTO THE NEXT GREAT SET-SCENE. DAWK
11.24.04
09:24
I was pleased to pick up the Abe Vigoda/Godfather reference. Like so many things in the film, it appears to be there just for the sheer joy of it.
If you haven't seen it yet, Brad Bird's previous film, The Iron Giant, is well worth checking out. All the visual trappings aside, Bird has a real talent for creating characters you really care about, and putting them into a story that has more in it than meets the eye.
11.26.04
10:19
Pixar is continuing the traditon of avoiding "realistic" humans, which, so far, nobody has succeeded in creating with computers. These days, as you can see with Polar Express, the humas are too realistic; they look like creepy barbie dolls. I wonder if Pixar will ever make the jump, and if it does, how successful the images will be.
11.27.04
10:52
Now to the point, first I would like to agree some what with Helfand about the visually over stimulating "Polar Express", I was bombarded with television comercials claiming this to be the most advanced movie of its kind, and that I would never believe the amazing CGI based animation, i find that a little trite and honestly will not even see this film in the theater, and maybe only rent it when it comes out, I was not impressed by the trailer, i didn't notice anything special that i have never seen before, my eyes didnt explode in amazement from Tom Hanks incredible acting either.
But what is incredible is that pixar bring people to life without digital acne. The designers are so advanced they can create facial expressions, life like hair, body movements and even the notorius "Shirt grab" which is really something incredible for animators to do. i think it's awesome that they can produce a better film while still keeping some amount of simplicity. Dont get me wrong, there is nothing simple about The Incredibles, but compared to the extreams of Polar Express... Why does Robert Zemeckis feel we need preformance capture and 360 degree movement to be enthused. The Incredibles takes the perfect amount of technicality mixed with the right amount of explosions and fun loving retired superheros to entertain and impress us. And there were no creepy elves involved anywhere.
besides what better way to capture our attention then to create a super hero character who is a designer ( how did they know what i wanted to be when i grew up). In conclusion I think that as designers we can take so much more appreciation in the cars, interiors, and right down to the flowers designed in The Incredibles, than the mind blowing, seizure enducing special effects of Polar express. if you go to see this movie, pay attention to the hair of each character, how it falls and moves. And pay attention to the insides of each home and building, the cars and landscapes, when one character grabs anothers shirt, and try to appreciate how much designing actually went into this movie. Most importantly though enjoy it.
11.28.04
04:38
11.30.04
01:20
On another note,
+ It's an awesome movie. Shows how much good design pays.
+ its deep design savvy
+ Don't forget that the head of Pixar is a man who knows the value of design: Steve Jobs.
I have a hard time with "design" being attributed to The Incredibles' success as a good movie. Storytelling, (virtual) set design, character development, talented actors and amazing - and powerful - 3d renderings are what make this movie great. Let's not get giddy and lump all of these together into this precious word of ours as everybody does with product, industrial, fashion and even hair design... unless we want to start calling janitors designers as well: designing cleanliness.
Certainly, this is a lighthearted post by Jessica and, like others, I absolutely enjoyed the movie. Thumbs up!
11.30.04
09:18
I thought it fabulous.
harrymancini-jamesbond-martinis-pinacolada-horns'n'marimba-brashsleekness.
Added so much to the boffo visuals.
I'm going back to hear the movie again.
12.01.04
03:06
What is the purpose of making an anminated person look real? Ok, maybe someone is trying to make a point. Well, I love Pixar and believe that they will continue to have longevity because they understand the theory of design.
12.07.04
12:33
12.14.04
11:52
12.31.04
01:16
01.01.05
06:43
02.12.05
04:38
In this film, I love the people's sensation, scene, bugbears. The scene is so sublime.
With the great imagination.
03.14.05
03:06