Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Full Chapter Pixar S America The Re Animation of American Myths and Symbols Meinel PDF
Full Chapter Pixar S America The Re Animation of American Myths and Symbols Meinel PDF
https://textbookfull.com/product/america-s-free-market-myths-
debunking-market-fundamentalism-1st-edition-joseph-shaanan-auth/
https://textbookfull.com/product/the-english-embrace-of-the-
american-indians-ideas-of-humanity-in-early-america-1st-edition-
alan-s-rome-auth/
https://textbookfull.com/product/can-you-sing-the-star-spangled-
banner-cloverleaf-books-tm-our-american-symbols-rustad/
https://textbookfull.com/product/america-s-response-to-china-a-
history-of-sino-american-relations-warren-i-cohen/
Curating America Journeys through Storyscapes of the
American Past Richard Rabinowitz
https://textbookfull.com/product/curating-america-journeys-
through-storyscapes-of-the-american-past-richard-rabinowitz/
https://textbookfull.com/product/improbable-scholars-the-rebirth-
of-a-great-american-school-system-and-a-strategy-for-america-s-
schools-1st-edition-david-l-kirp/
https://textbookfull.com/product/the-tower-of-hanoi-myths-and-
maths-andreas-m-hinz/
https://textbookfull.com/product/america-s-pastor-billy-graham-
and-the-shaping-of-a-nation-graham/
https://textbookfull.com/product/intellectual-radicalism-
after-1989-crisis-and-re-orientation-in-the-british-and-the-
american-left-sebastian-berg/
PIXAR’S
AMERICA
The Re-Animation of
American Myths
and Symbols
DIETMAR MEINEL
Pixar’s America
Dietmar Meinel
Pixar’s America
The Re-Animation of American Myths and Symbols
Dietmar Meinel
Department of Anglophone Studies
University of Duisburg-Essen
Essen, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany
vii
viii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ix
x CONTENTS
Bibliography 219
Index 231
CHAPTER 1
From anxious sheriff dolls, obnoxious race cars, bleeping and buzz-
ing garbage compressors to irritable old men; from cities powered with
the screams of children, rat-infested cottages to post-apocalyptic garbage
landscapes; from the elaborate sounds of “speaking whale” to the immo-
bilizing shout of “squirrel!,” the world of Pixar expands “to infinity, and
beyond.” As soon as the little desk lamp Luxor Jr. hops onto the screen,
audiences of all ages eagerly await to be drawn into an oddly familiar, yet
unexpectedly distinct, universe. As Pixar’s digital animation is so beloved,
even ill-tempered ogres, singing princesses, and sabre-toothed squirrels
obsessed with acorns are often assumed to populate their world as well.
When Ed Catmull and Alvy Ray Smith co-founded Pixar Inc. along
with thirty-eight other founding members and investor Steve Jobs in 1986,
however, the world was not Pixar. Actually, outside the film industry, few
people had heard of the small company and its previous work. Even in
Hollywood, many would have probably been hard-pressed to describe
what these few individuals contributed to the blockbuster trilogy Star Wars
(1977–1983) or why high-tech entrepreneur Steve Jobs invested five mil-
lion dollars in some forty computer scientists with PhDs. About ten years
later, as audiences of all ages flocked to the theaters to see the first film pro-
duced entirely with the use of computers, the world had begun changing.
© The Author(s) 2016 1
D. Meinel, Pixar’s America,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-31634-5_1
2 D. MEINEL
But the Pixar Image Computer could never fulfill these expectations.
Plagued with technological inconveniences and limited commercial suc-
cess, the computer became a funding sink for Pixar and Jobs. Although
in dire financial distress, Pixar stayed in business because in the late 1980s
the company had expanded its portfolio by developing film software
and producing TV commercials. For example, the Computer Animation
Production System (CAPS) computer program, useful to color ink-and-
paint cells, was an immediate success with the Disney Studios. Later, the
RenderMan and IceMan software—developed to enable the rendering
of 3-D graphics and the digital processing of photographs—eventually
came to transform computer animation and special effect productions.
Even as the programs established Pixar as a leader in technological innova-
tion, their 3-D rendering and image processing software remained “niche
product[s]” (Price 100). With their technological knowledge and experi-
ence, however, Pixar was able to gain a foothold in the market for televi-
sion advertisements—having acquired some reputation for their software,
the company produced several TV commercials. Starting in 1989, Pixar
was able to create and increase revenue in this way to offset its losses in the
hardware and software business. But by 1991 the annual deficits compelled
Jobs to shut down the hardware production entirely and to concentrate
all of the company’s resources on expanding its software development and
advertising productions.
While the RenderMan software continues to define Pixar’s technologi-
cal superiority in the present, its days of producing commercials are long
gone. Today, audiences love, cherish, and admire Pixar for its many feature-
length computer-animated films. While the first-ever full-length computer-
animated film Toy Story (1995) delivered the company from its financial
distress in 1995, in those early years only a few people believed in Pixar
as a film company: Ed Catmull possessed the technological vision, Steve
Jobs provided the funding (although Jobs did not believe in the idea of a
cinematic endeavor [cf. Price 104]), and John Lasseter offered the creative
talent. A former student at the California Institute of the Arts (CalArt),
Lasseter had been trained in the late 1970s by those artists he admired
most: longtime Disney animators. Although Disney employed Lasseter
in the early 1980s, his growing fascination and passion for digital anima-
tion found no resonance at the studio.1 When his superiors persistently
ignored the ideas of the young animator and eventually shelved his project
The Brave Little Toaster, in January 1984 a frustrated Lasseter joined the
Graphics Group at Lucasfilm. His collaboration with Catmull proved to
6 D. MEINEL
to stir interest in films through novel visual imagery coincided with and
profited immensely from the shift to the blockbuster production system
in Hollywood in the late 1970s. With Jaws (1975), the Indiana Jones
(1981–1989) and the Star Wars (1977–1983) trilogies, Steven Spielberg
and George Lucas had fundamentally transformed the film business—and
the people at Pixar were deeply shaped by (and had shaped) the transition
from the New Hollywood period to the blockbuster era, as James Clarke
reasons in The Films of Pixar Animation Studio (2013):
aspirations and ideals at Pixar, beyond the individual training and involve-
ment of John Lasseter and his admiration for The Walt Disney Company.
In their first collaboration with Disney, Toy Story (1995), the Pixar employ-
ees learned a huge amount from their cel-animation heirs, appropriating
the financial, organizational, and artistic approaches to a point where sev-
eral of Disney’s senior executives professed “that Pixar had made a film
that contained more of the ‘heart’ of traditional Disney animated films
than they themselves were making at that time” (Price 155–156). In her
enthusiastic review of the film for The New York Times, journalist Janet
Maslin welcomed this dedication to the Disney animation tradition as “[t]
he computer-animated Toy Story, a parent-tickling delight, is a work of
incredible cleverness in the best two-tiered Disney tradition” (Maslin).
In fact, many film critics celebrated Toy Story for “the purity, the ecstatic
freedom of imagination, that’s the hallmark of the greatest children’s
films” and its appeal to an all-age audience: in the words of Entertainment
Weekly, its “spring-loaded allusive prankishness […] will tickle adults even
more than it does kids” (Gleiberman). This fascination with Toy Story fur-
ther included the technological savvy of the production with its combi-
nation of “three-dimensional reality and freedom of movement that is
liberating and new” (Ebert). Writing for the Chicago Sun-Times, Roger
Ebert described his viewing experience as “a visionary roller-coaster ride”
and foretold “the dawn of a new era of movie animation” (Ebert).
With the immense critical and commercial success of Toy Story, Pixar
blazed a trail for computer-animated film and quickly inspired other film stu-
dios to launch or develop their animation department. The last twenty years,
therefore, have seen a tremendous increase in computer-animated films as
these movies matured into a viable and lucrative avenue for profit in the
industry. Within the diverse and popular field of computer-animated films
today, Pixar competes with a variety of other studios for audience attention
at the box office. While in the 1990s Pixar profited from the novelty of com-
puter animation, the last two decades have seen intensified competition in the
market: 20th Century Fox has produced the tetralogy Ice Age (2002–2012),
Sony Picture Animation Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs and a sequel
(2009, 2013), Universal Pictures Despicable Me and two sequels (2010,
2013, 2015), and Walt Disney Animation Studios Tangled (2010), Wreck-It
Ralph (2012), and Frozen (2013). Among the numerous competitors to
Pixar, the DreamWorks Studios with their Shrek (2001–2010) tetralogy and
the Madagascar (2005–2012) trilogy5 have been particularly successful in
developing a recognizable and individual brand of animation. From its first
animated feature, Antz (1998), DreamWorks explicitly intended “to pro-
EXCEPTIONAL ANIMATION: AN INTRODUCTION 9
duce films that were hipper, smarter, and less sentimental than the tradi-
tional Disney animated film, aimed at an audience of children assumed to be
more intelligent and sophisticated than Disney had apparently long assumed
children to be” (Booker, Hidden Messages 142). While DreamWorks may
seem similarly well suited for an exploration of the aesthetic and narrative
complexity of animated films, just as all previous examples speak to the flour-
ishing and diversity of computer-animated films independent of any particu-
lar production company, this book concentrates exclusively on Pixar—not
because the studio still maintains a leading position at the box office6 or in
the technological field but because Pixar has, over the decades since its foun-
dation, developed into a synonym for animated film.
While commercially still the most successful studio, Pixar has also
become a cultural icon unmatched by its rivals. The technological innova-
tion and aesthetic appeal of the company has not merely created a highly
visible brand and household name for animation; in its exhibition on digi-
tal animation, the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) exalted the Pixar
Animation Studios to canonical status. As Roberta Smith summarizes
the Pixar: 20 Years of Animation exhibition in The New York Times: the
MoMA “has mounted the largest, most object-oriented exhibition in its
history devoted to film: a show about the runaway phenomenon of digital
animation. Well, some digital animation. O.K., the digital animation of
one hugely successful, pioneering company, the Pixar Animation Studios”
(Smith). In addition to the numerous feature-length and short films, the
MoMA also exhibited “more than 500 drawings, collages, storyboards
and three-dimensional models by some 80 artists” (Smith) to display the
variety of visual designs and art integral to (Pixar’s) animated film produc-
tions. Since the show traveled to Great Britain, Japan, Australia, Finland,
South Korea, Mexico, and Taiwan—and its follow-up exhibition Pixar: 25
Years of Animation went to Germany, China, and Italy (cf. Pixar: 25 Years
of Animation 182)—the retrospective celebrated the studio as a mediator
of high art, innovative technology, and commercial success globally.7
Studios in 2006 for 7.4 billion dollars and John Lasseter became chief
creative officer of Pixar and Walt Disney Animation and principal cre-
ative advisor at Walt Disney Imagineering (a section working closely with
the Walt Disney theme park division), people increasingly perceived the
previously independent studio as “convey[ing] an ideology that is rather
similar to the mainstream ideology of Disney films” (Booker Hidden
Messages 78). Although not yet charged with disneyfying (or pixarfying)
popular culture,8 the Pixar Animation Studios encountered increasing dis-
approval which accused their films of simplification, superficiality, sanitiza-
tion, and trivialization. For example, in his Disney, Pixar, and the Hidden
Messages of Children’s Films (2010), Keith M. Booker condemns Pixar’s
A Bug’s Life (1998) for expressing conventional and conservative ideas:
The film […] delivers a message about the power of collective action and
even potentially yields a radical class-oriented political message, with the ants
playing the role of the exploited proletariat and the grasshoppers playing the
role of the bourgeoisie, who feed on the labor of the workers without doing
any productive work of their own. The ant victory thus becomes a virtual
workers’ revolution except, of course, that the film itself is not at all inter-
ested in delivering this message, instead focusing on the very mainstream
American story of the lone individual (Flik) who makes good and saves the
day, delivering independence to the ants (who maintain their own royalist
internal political structure). The political issues raised by A Bug’s Life are
thus unlikely to deliver an effective radical message to young viewers. (82)
uses animals to trap children, not to liberate them. The language he employs
is nothing less than a form of manipulation. He invites children into a world
which appears to offer freedom of movement and creation, into which they
enter fearlessly, identifying with creatures as affectionate, trustful, and irre-
sponsible as themselves, of whom no betrayal is to be expected, and with
whom they can safely play and mingle. Then, once the little readers are
caught within the pages of the comic, the doors close behind them. The
animals become transformed, under the same zoological form and the same
smiling mask, into monstrous human beings. (Dorfman and Mattelart 41)
For Dorfman and Mattelart this entrapment extends beyond its young
audience as the “‘American Dream of Life’” (95) imposes its “monstrous”
view of other cultures and countries upon their (reading) inhabitants. In
this logic, Latin Americans, for example, come to see themselves as infan-
tile and unruly due to their illustration as infantile and unruly in Disney
comics. Following a Marxist perspective, Dorfman and Mattelart conclude
that “Disney expels the productive and historical forces from his comics
[as much as] imperialism thwarts real production and historical evolu-
tion in the underdeveloped world” (97–98). With their often compelling
reasoning, Dorfman and Mattelart fostered a Cultural Studies tradition
of reading cartoons and comics—and mainstream American culture—as
imperial texts promoting cultural, political, and social norms.
This Marxist analysis developed within an academic tradition that under-
stood popular culture to be an essential part of an ideological apparatus.
The work of Louis Althusser in the late 1960s and early 1970s, with its
notion of interpellation, not only came to mold the study of culture at that
time but fundamentally shaped the study of popular films for later genera-
tions. For the French theorist, ideological (and state) apparatuses interpel-
lated individuals into subject positions as these “cram every ‘citizen’ with
daily doses of nationalism, chauvinism, liberalism, [and] moralism” and
“drum into [the children] […] a certain amount of ‘know-how’ wrapped
in the ruling ideology” (On Ideology 28–29).
14 D. MEINEL
Ea quæ dari impossibilia sunt, vel quæ in rerum natura non sunt, pro
non adjectis habentur.
Those things which cannot possibly be given, or which
have no existence in the nature of things, are
considered as things not included.
Extra territorium jus dicenti impune non paretur. Idem est, et si supra
jurisdictionem suam velit jus dicere.
One cannot with impunity obey one executing justice,
beyond his province; the same happens if one
presumes to administer justice beyond his own
jurisdiction.
Furiosi, vel ejus cui bonis interdictum sit, nulla voluntas est.
The will of a madman, or of him who is interdicted from
the administration of his goods, is nothing.
Furiosus solo furore punitur.
A madman is punished only by his own madness.
G.
Generale dictum, generaliter est intelligendum.
A thing said in a general sense, is to be understood in
a general sense.
Hæredi favetur.
Favour is shewn to an heir.
Id certum est quod certum reddi potest, sed id magis certum est
quod de semetipso est certum.
That is certain which can be rendered certain, but that
is more certain which is certain of itself.
Id quod nostrum est, sine facto nostro ad alium transferri non potest.
That which is ours cannot be transferred to another
without our own deed.
Idem est facere et non prohibere cum possis, et qui non prohibet
cum prohibere possit, in culpa est.
It is the same to do and not to prohibit when you can;
and he who does not prohibit when he can prohibit, is
in fault.
Illud quod alias licitum non est, necessitas facit licitum; et necessitas
inducit privilegium quod jure privatur.
That which is not lawful in another case, necessity
makes lawful; and necessity induces a privilege which
is taken away by the law.