Over the Garden Wall: Building an Aesthetic

              

               

            The Emmy Award-winning mini-series, “Over the Garden Wall,” which aired on Cartoon Network in November of 2014, was a welcome little surprise to both myself and my friend Holly as we watched it together in college, breaking up the usual “Steven Universe” conversations we would have around that time. The show follows the story of two brothers, Wirt and Greg, who have found themselves lost and are trying to get back home as they meet a talking bird, pumpkin-headed villagers, and a whole host of strange, whimsical creatures and characters that try to help or harm them along the way. Spanning a week, with two episodes being aired a night rounding out the 10-episode span by Friday night, the show was just absolutely brilliant from start to end. It should probably come as no surprise then that the creator of the show, Patrick McHale, was one of the many early contributors behind “Adventure Time” and its first five seasons, a show that has acted as ground zero for quite a few now-established showrunners, comic creators, artists, and creative types in general still working in and around animation. Over the Garden Wall has received really nothing but praise and appreciation since airing so while little needs to be said of the quality of the show, this would be the perfect opportunity to speak about themes and aesthetic and how they contributed to the success of Over the Garden Wall and can help other writers strike gold as well.

             Over the Garden Wall is a lovely concoction of yellows, oranges, browns, and similar rustic, earthy colors as it introduces us to a world that seems to live within a story book found in a musty old attic. The primary focus of the show’s aesthetic certainly seems to be an association with classic Americana with some episodes playing with the more lighthearted, Romantic literary influences of the time while simultaneously maintaining the common good-vs-evil elements of such work, which we clearly see in the main protagonist/antagonist relationship between the two boys and The Beast who, appropriate to old folk legends and stories told to frighten children, wants to lure them into the woods. Many ideas crash together to create the show’s overall aesthetic, though, as the show proves itself to be creepy, unnerving, and sometimes downright scary, and then charming, elegant, and nostalgic as the writing dances between haunted gothic houses reminiscent of Poe, paddle boats on a river manned by frogs who play ragtime music, Aesop’s fables-inspired old crones, and even a few good thematic surprises toward the end of the show. Plenty of attention is given to some of the earliest animation styles with an entire episode dedicated to the vintage “rubber hose” style of the artform and the soundtrack is almost like it was fished directly out of the past as it features many techniques that try to recreate older recording styles and music genres that were popular over a hundred years ago. All of these themes come together to create an experience that feels authentic, cohesive, and celebratory of the rich history of American culture, writing, music, and art. With some of the themes of this show roughly laid out and explored, it would be a good idea to understand the concept of theme and how such elements contribute to writing at their most basic.

            The idea of a “theme” is that it’s a sort of overarching element of what you’re working with that is either constantly present in the visual style, such as the earthy, fairy-tale vibe in Over the Garden Wall, an idea that influences and shapes the dialogue and plot, such as the effort to make the writing fit that nostalgic and magical art style, a piece of culture that you’re wanting to highlight throughout, such as the many elements of old-world America seen throughout the show, or any other similar majorly influencing pieces to the overall puzzle that a writer is attempting to put together while drafting ideas for their next project.  Compared to musical harmony and the blending of different instruments, or maybe the mixing of colors to create new palettes, we mix themes to create something new and interesting, often strategically to create a certain mood, to incorporate unusual characters and settings, or to maybe help illustrate a greater idea. Over the Garden Wall is a fantastic example of clever and creative theme blending to arrive at its rich, rustic, immersive aesthetic.

            When sitting down to create a new idea, it’s important to understand the things that you like and are able to break them down into little one or two-word bite-size pieces that you can use as ingredients to then add together and slowly craft your work’s aesthetic. Something as general as “set in space” is a massive theme for your work because it already establishes the general setting of your entire idea. This is where you want to start getting creative, though, and test the waters with odd, unlikely pieces such as, perhaps, “elements of non-western philosophy and religion” mixed in with “knights belonging to ancient orders” and, finally, the simple tried-and-true “sword fights.” Before you know it, you’ve accidentally created Star Wars and have gained millions of fans. Much like George Lucas in this example, having pulled from his childhood cinematic loves, truly the power of themes and aesthetics lend themselves to our inherent, unassailable gift of a unique life lived. In some way or another you, as the creator, are going to enjoy a slightly different set of ideas, themes, and character archetypes than most other people. You will have been inspired by a set of influencing shows, books, and movies that you can borrow from to help you on your path to finding your own voice and creating your own world. The only limit to how unique your work becomes, is how unique you are as the writer and how willing you are to experiment with silly, unconventional, and potentially risky combinations. 

Invader Zim: Jhonen Vasquez and the Author's Presence

           

           

            It seems like retro is most definitely in style as yet another old, beloved cartoon series is staging a comeback in the near future.  “Invader Zim” was a bit of an oddball in the Nickelodeon lineup when it debuted back in 2001, constantly skirting the line between acceptable and controversial with its dark themes, disturbing imagery, and misanthropic sentiments glazed heavily over the entire show.  It may not have been so surprising, though, that such an unusual, risky show garnered quite the loyal little cult following in its time and practically kept Hot Topic in business for the next decade afterward.  While jarring and crude at times, Invader Zim was absolutely deserving of the praise as it displayed an art style that was truly unique and carved a niche cleanly into a demographic of viewers who identified closely with the creator, Jhonen Vasquez, on his thoughts on the world, on people, and the stark ways in which he brought these ideas to Invader Zim.  It is in this way that Invader Zim is a perfect case study of a work of fiction that embodies the author brilliantly.

            If you’ve ever done any research into Vasquez, you’ll find that he is also the creator of a comic strip named, delicately, “Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.”  As a matter of fact, Vasquez is often primarily listed not as a cartoon showrunner but as a “comic book artist” and it would come to no surprise that if one truly wanted to see inside the mind of Vasquez, one would turn to the much-less-restricted medium of comics instead of the closely scrutinized Nickelodeon show.  Where Vasquez had to tone himself down in Zim, he most certainly did not have to with Johnny the Homicidal Maniac or its spin-off comics, “Squee!” and “I Feel Sick.”  Pushing his work onto television and into the homes of families all over America was, in retrospect, an incredibly unlikely scenario given his resume of overtly mature work, but someone at Nickelodeon felt like taking a chance on him and thus, Invader Zim was born.  It may only take a single episode of the show, however, to help understand why the man behind its creation is also quoted as saying that the shift from working alone to working with a whole crew at Nickelodeon was an “absolute misery” (Shattuck).

            A deeply ingrained theme in Invader Zim is one of a very general misanthropy, or a certain disdain for humanity and society.  It’s hard to imagine a better character for exploring such ideas than an actual alien from another world trying to blend in, make it day by day in a world full of strange, disgusting, idiotic humans, all the while plotting to take over Earth.  Zim spends his days attempting to subdue the people of Earth in preparation for the main fleet from his homeworld to come in and finish the job, as any good invader does.  Human characters through the show are often portrayed as filthy, stupid, disgusting, and downright braindead.  The seething hatred for mankind weaves in and out of the show very naturally and fuels most of the jokes and plot points.  Capitalizing on its theming, the show relies on a good mix of crude, shocking, random, and often absurd jokes both verbal and slapstick.  The show is an animated collection of all the things that made Jhonen Vasquez the man he was at the time of its creation, and is the absolute most direct example I can think of when trying to find a cartoon that bleeds the same color as its creator. 

            So then, the question would be if this is an effective, desirable strategy when creating a work of fiction, yourself.  The success of Invader Zim is hard to dispute, and there are cultural artifacts scattered all throughout America and abroad of the tiny green alien on stickers, backpacks, T-shirts, lunchboxes, chain wallets, and much more. The show connected with many people for, likely, many different reasons.  Pouring yourself into your work is not only a viable strategy but is, for many people, an automatic, subconscious fact regardless.  Indeed, I do not believe that it is possible to create a piece of work that divorces you, as the creator, entirely from it.  You can, however, make a conscious effort to distance yourself and attempt a narrative from a lens unfamiliar to your experiences if you so desire.  At its core, this is what it means to create art.  We present our interpretations of the world we live in to our peers and all these other humans sharing the experience of life on Earth (even IF you happen to think they’re all awful, short-sighted, disgusting wastes of space), so that we may learn from one another or gain some valuable insight into what it means to live, love, and make art in the first place.  It becomes, then, a very personal decision on just how much or how little one injects their own personality, beliefs, and emotions into their work.  In spite of the fact that these themes are often considered negative, pessimistic, and unwanted, Invader Zim stands tall as a testament to the viability and success of socially deviant content creators everywhere and helps prove that there is truly an audience for everything.

            Invader Zim will be returning to Nickelodeon on a date yet to be announced in a one-hour long television movie featuring the entire original voice cast for the main characters of Zim, Gir, Dib, and Gaz with Vasquez himself fulfilling the role of executive producer.

-------------------- 

Work Cited

Shattuck, Kathryn (2001-03-25). "Fishbowl Fairies and an Alien in Exile". New York Times. Retrieved 2008-10-28.

Steven Universe: Telling More With Less

When someone sits down to write an extended work like a novel, large webcomic, or television series, the first problem that may become very quickly apparent is that it is a massive undertaking as far as preplanning goes. I have had a story brewing very slowly over the past couple years with an incredible friend of mine and I am amazed that, even now, we run into problems and issues that need resolving with our characters and world before we can keep moving forward.  This having been said, however, there is a particular writing philosophy that has influenced me tremendously that I wanted to share with everyone that I learned from simply watching “Steven Universe.”  Some authors may feel the desire or even an absolute need to get incredibly detailed and intricate with their narrative, which is absolutely fine. I’ve had it proven to me, however, that when done correctly, a good story can be told with a rather simplistic plot.

 

A few years ago when Steven Universe started, Holly (my previously mentioned friend/writing partner) and I sat down to watch the series together and stuck with it from the beginning because it seemed to have a lot of promise from the very start. The dialogue was organic, the animation and backgrounds were unique and gorgeous, but perhaps most importantly, the story was absolutely slathered in intrigue. This is largely what kept us talking about the show and coming back each week for another episode.  When one thinks about a show with “intrigue” though, it’s probably not unreasonable to think of intricate or even complicated live-action shows in primetime slots.  Steven Universe, however, is somewhat of an outlier.  The writing trick that the crew behind SU employ is that of taking a little bit, and stretching it out into a lot.

The key philosophy that seems to drive the methods and narrative structures used by the writing team for SU is actually pretty simple.  They introduce their world, characters, and details about both extremely slowly to the audience as to maximize the value of each major reveal.  Questions as simple as “what are the Crystal Gems” and “where are they from” were not answered until the show was fairly deep into its first season.  Even by the end of the show’s spectacular season one finale, audiences had only surface knowledge of the conflict and overall story that the show would go on to gradually reveal over the lifespan of the series. Without spoiling anything, I will say that the overall story of Steven Universe (as much as we know so far at least) could probably be summed up in about two sentences or less. The pacing, though, is what makes Steven Universe stand out from the crowd as a show with truly great suspense and intrigue.

To put this into practice for yourself, you have to start small. Imagine, if you will, a tiny circle. Inside that circle is the absolute most basic elements of a story or a world that you want to create. This tiny little circle contains as little information for the reader/viewer as the names of the main cast, where they are, a rough idea of what they do on a daily basis, and some sort of conflict. This is essentially exactly how Steven Universe began its adventure through its story. Very, very slowly over time, this circle begins to expand outward as it gradually brings in answers to questions.  The main antagonist is revealed, then shown to be a grunt as opposed to this new antagonist a few episodes later who even she is revealed to be of lesser importance than the next villain in true anime-inspired cartoon goodness. We eventually start hitting key moments such as “why are the Crystal Gems here” and “how does fusion work.” The more time that passes, the more elements of the world is revealed, and yet the story remains compact and simple.  Sheer excellence in pacing is what made Steven Universe so good for a first time viewing.

So then it is with that having been said that I encourage any other writers out there to take a note from this and consider using this strategy a bit for yourself if you find yourself at a brick wall. Perhaps you already have your entire story written and you don’t even realize it. You just have to simply stretch it out a bit and make those big reveals as important and exciting as you possibly can.

Jack is Back! Could He Help Usher in a Possible New Future for American Animation?

(Potential spoilers for Samurai Jack and Legend of Korra ahead)

After a long twelve year wait, Genndy Tartakovsky’s “Samurai Jack” has finally had its 5^th season premiere on television in order to bring the series to the conclusion that fans have so desperately wanted since the original series ending back in 2004. On the Adult Swim programming block as opposed to the younger audience focused Cartoon Network, Jack found a home again. This past Saturday, about thirty thousand people watched the first episode on Adult Swim’s official stream, where I was watching, and I’m sure plenty more watched on the actual cable channel.  The load on Adult Swim’s stream server as people tried to ask Tartakovsky questions during the thirty-minute Q&A he held just before the episode was enough to bring chat down for most of the actual episode.  The enthusiasm in the chat during the hours leading up to the new episode, as Adult Swim ran a marathon of the original Samurai Jack series, was a testament to just how beloved this cartoon was for many of the viewers.  The episode itself was a tasteful mix of old and new Jack, and the series as a whole has the potential to help push American animation in a new direction.

In a behind the scenes video leading up to the premiere of the new season of Samurai Jack, Tartakovsky brings up the question that many people were curious about concerning just how much he was going to take advantage of the new tone, themes, and violence allowed in the show thanks to the last season airing on Adult Swim instead of Cartoon Network.  His response was that he did, of course, want to put this new artistic license to use, but that he did not want to stray too terribly far from the tonality and theming of the original series.  Even though he now can certainly show blood and approach situations from a much more adult-oriented perspective, he mentions that he still wants this last season of Samurai Jack to be something that viewers can hopefully sit down and watch with their own kids some day.  The result has proven itself to be a very interesting mix of what made the original series so charming, and the new ability to show a darker Jack. 

The old cinematography of Samurai Jack, inspired heavily by 70’s films as Tartakovsky stated in his Q&A, is alive and well as we’re treated to a very Star Wars-y opening sequence in a desert canyon, complete with strange little creature being focused on long enough to make a noise.  This directing continues as one would expect throughout the episode, lending a wonderful maturity to the series as it always has.  Jack’s new look is strikingly different.  He is first seen on a motorcycle gunning down robots, wearing full armor, and sporting a long, scruffy beard.  Taking place fifty years after the end of last episode of season 4, it is clear that time has been unkind to Jack and his purpose has become muddled.  His new look seems to perhaps suggest that of a Ronin, a Samurai that serves no lord or master.  Throughout the episode we are shown that Jack is struggling against himself and his guilt at the thought that he has abandoned his father, mother, and people that he vowed to return to from the future and save from Aku.  This internal struggle is a very different sort of Samurai Jack than what we’ve seen in the previous seasons so many years ago, and makes available to the crew an array of new themes that this season may potentially explore.

Thankfully, those old Jack vibes are still around as we’re introduced to the villain of the episode: a wise-cracking, singing robot assassin named Scaramouch sent by Aku to track down Jack, voiced by none other than Tom Kenny. As one would expect, Tom Kenny brings to life another ridiculous, over the top, fun and quirky character that fits right in with the original plethora of similar antagonists throughout the old seasons of Jack.  A large portion of the episode is devoted to their fight, which both reveals that Jack has somehow lost his legendary sword and ends with Jack essentially executing the Tom Kenny bot to show us that we are, indeed, dealing with a Jack that follows a very different set of morals than the one we all grew up with over a decade ago.  Sadly, there was no glimpse of Aku and his new voice actor, Greg Baldwin, who also took over for Mako in Legend of Korra, although we are treated to a new collection of trained assassin women who will surely prove to be the main recurring antagonists throughout the season.

One thing that Genndy mentioned during his Q&A was that he was ultimately unhappy with the current state of the animation industry in America and seems hopeful to perhaps continue working with Adult Swim even after Samurai Jack finishes as he said that his experience with Adult Swim thus far has been one of the best of his career.  If I had to make a guess, Genndy is wanting to push more serious, artistically focused animation in America and if I’m right, that is exciting because I absolutely agree with and support him in his endeavor.  While I was still in college working on my undergrad degree, I wrote a senior thesis over the current state of the animation industry in America and how I felt that, eventually, we would start to see a gradual shift to more serious animated programs geared toward adult audiences that did not rely on comedy.  Adult animated drama has been plentiful in Japanese animation, but severely lacking in America and I feel that Samurai Jack is our first glimpse into a radical shift in what is popular in animation here at home.  If this is true, Tartakovsky’s next project could very well be another animated, dramatic Adult Swim animated series that is geared toward an older audience.  Regardless, this helps open the door for any aspiring animators who have been wanting the chance to find an audience for a more serious, drama-focused animated show on an American network.

All in all, Samurai Jack met my expectations, which were somewhat shaky because the work that Tartakovsky directed in Hollywood during his recent years working with Sony Pictures Animation has not been my favorite.  The show, however, seems to be off to a great start and my faith in Tartakovsky has absolutely been renewed under the assumption that he has finally been given the creative freedom to do things his way again and we’re all enjoying the result with a new, much less content restricted 5^th season of Samurai Jack.