I still remember the feeling. I was but a tiny four-year-old, and I was spending the night away from my parents for the first time. I was sitting on my grandma’s couch, cuddled up in blankets with my siblings, watching Snow White run through a creepy, haunting forest. I was terrified.
Sixteen years later, not much has changed. My friends still tease me – I can’t stand gore, pain, evil or blood, so much so that the first time I watched “The Hunger Games,” I had my best friend tell me when to close my eyes during the killings. (You’re a real one.)
However, with growth comes intellect, and although I’m still as sensitive as ever to anything that feels wicked (real or imagined) I’m now able to appreciate the work that went into movies like “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”
Ironically, the very first Disney movie I ever remember watching was also the first of its kind in a different way: it was the very first full-length, traditionally hand-drawn animated feature film produced by Walt Disney. 750 artists spent many painstaking hours laboring over each and every frame until its magic was finally unleashed. It was lauded with praise from the likes of Judy Garland, Charlie Chaplin, Shirley Temple and ended up being the highest grossing-film of 1938. It clearly has withstood the test of time, as evidenced by a small child (me) watching it in 2009, more than seventy years after its release.
OK, history lesson aside, hand-drawn animation has clearly evoked emotions in viewers of every age for decades. There’s just something so romantic and nostalgic about how a human hand formed the faces of such beloved characters, such as Snow White. But recently, the tide has been turning. No longer does this type of animation dominate the industry. The more recent favorites like “Frozen” and “Inside Out” are animated almost entirely by computer. At first glance, this seems to be unproblematic. What’s wrong with saving hours of work? You may ask. However, the problem is not just an efficiency issue. I argue it is part of a broader cultural shift to value product over process, performance over people and achievement over “stopping to smell the roses.”
Geez, Sasha. It’s not that deep.
Really? Because it’s through every trial and error – mistakes and redos, successes and failures – that we find first what it means to be human and second how to live a life of fulfillment.
Think with me for a second about these early artists who worked on such lovely Disney classics such as “Bambi”, “Lady and the Tramp”, and “Beauty and the Beast.” They slaved over something that they didn’t know would work at all. For all they knew, each of those projects could be a flop. And the amount of effort they put in with no guarantee of reward is almost ridiculous. That’s your hand-is-cramping, brain-is-fried, have-nothing-left-to-give kind of work. That’s “I’m ripping up this sheet of paper, Michael Scott-style, I’m so frustrated” kind of work. And it’s this very struggle that endears me to these movies: no one can tell me that Bambi’s face and expressions were that adorable on the first try.
Now, please listen to the contrast: someone logs onto their computer. Through a program, they are able to adjust their drawings much more quickly and efficiently. No more starting over! No more paper ripping! Super practical! I get my nights to myself, and my brain cells are intact. We are for this, right?
In some instances, I would say yes. But in this case, it is CGI’s very effectiveness that makes it lose its allure. Now, don’t hear me incorrectly. I am not saying that CGI does not require any effort or skill. CGI artists are still artists, nonetheless. But what I am saying is that when we outsource something that could be done by humans to a machine, we lose something important in the process.
First, we lose the value of the experience of being imperfect and trying again. Sure, there may not be half as many mistakes in CGI animation as in hand-drawn, but mistakes are often the only evidence that a real, oxygen-breathing person was there. We’re so afraid of making an error that we don’t ever express our individuality – the little quirks and touches that truly make us us, and therefore no one can truly know us. That is what was so beautiful about hand-drawn animation – every single frame shows the mark of a unique artist, and you feel like you learn something about each of them with every movie you watch. But where, I ask you, does CGI show struggle? The very sleekness of movies such as “Frozen” is part of what makes them feel distant to me. They no longer feel so deeply human.
Secondly, is it not through experience of doing something that we find both true satisfaction in our abilities and in life? I mean, I can throw pre-baked cookies in the oven any day. Or, I can take the time to measure out ingredients, get flour on my nose, lick the spoon, laugh with whoever is in the kitchen, discover the depth of my patience when those cookies turn out tasteless and then, finally, hit upon the right ratios for the perfect, mouthwatering bite.
Which is more satisfying? Deep down, we know the answer. Yet more and more, society is trading in savor for speed. We go at a rip-roaring pace through our lives and wonder why, at the end of the day, we feel a little hollow. Maybe it’s because we don’t take the time to let our work shape us as people, or to truly inhabit our experiences instead of finding ways to make them end.
There’s a reason why Scripture says to walk with God. When you walk, you don’t get to your destination quickly. But was that ever the point?
I don’t know about you, but I want to live inside my experiences, not bypass their potential to shape me. And a practical way to do that will be curling up on my couch this Saturday and celebrating those who did by rewatching “Snow White.”
This is so great!!!