Glukoza’s been spinning her high-pitched nasal rhymes since 2002, but it’s the video for her single Schweine [Pigs] that caught my eye, initially. A 3D animation like most of her videos, the story takes place in a world overtaken by Nazi pigs, where brave Glukoza stands up to their tyrannical ruler.
And the song itself? Incredibly catchy, actually. The lyrics are decidedly girl-power much like in the rest of her repertoire - refreshing against the slew of saccharine pop sluts plaguing Russia’s airwaves. You watch now:
Glukoza Nostra, where Glukoza wears a hot Matrix-inspired outfit and kicks ass with what is best described as Gunkata
Sneg Idet [It’s Snowing], Where Glukosa gets melancholic, wears glowing boots and plays with her dog in the snow
Nevesta [Bride], where Glukosa wears white, carries Katana blades and battles an evil dinosaur
Nenaviju [I hate], where Glukoza is liberated by a breakup and floats along a Tokyo-inspired metropolis
Thanks to Jhonen McPiggensteen, possessor of all pig-related knowledge, for the link.
This was one hell of a day, mm? Many thanks to our guest posters for providing crunchy brain sustenance for all! And now, as you loosen your bootlaces in preparation for the evening, it’s time to take a moment and appreciate these elegant anime robots.
I’ve been hearing about Ergo Proxy for ages but didn’t start watching until last week. Just 4 episodes in so far, I’m admiring the perpetually dusky post-ecodisaster utopia and identifying with the heroine’s utilitarian fashion sense. Of special interest to me, however, are the Entourage AutoReivs - as their name implies they are robotic companions to each citizen and help with everything from shopping to driving to occasional protection.
More stylized in appearance than the humanoid Companion models also present in the world of Ergo Proxy, some autoreivs vaguely resemble bearded men, and others have the shape of a statuesque female, hair pulled back into a strict bun. Despite the appeal of an autoreiv’s services one should remember that they store all of their owners’ data and monitor their actions. Could Big Brother be near? And beware Cogito, the self-awareness virus - it seems to be spreading across Romdo Dome City and all autoreivs are subject to infection…
Spaniard Teruel Segundo de Chomón y Ruiz (1871-1929), a lesser known film pioneer with a particular fondness for hand-tinting his work, came to renown working for the Pathé brothers in the 1900s. While much of his work is directly informed by Méliès, Chomón’s distinctive aesthetic and deadpan humor set him apart and set a precedent for the surrealists Buñuel and Dalí. He also invented the film dolly.
The Golden Beetle (1907) is Chomón at his most delightfully innovative:
I learned of Chomón while watching the fantastic Landmarks of Early Film, Vol 1 collection, which also includes shorts by the Lumières, the aforementioned Méliès and some very early Kinetoscope movies. You can pick up a secondhand copy on Amazon for 20 bucks.
Waaaaugh! Why didn’t anyone tell me about Skywhales? This is incredible. Have you seen it? What about you there, in the back, wearing the Dragonriders of Pern tee shirt? Ever heard of Skywhales? Yeah?
DAMN it. I’d never even heard of Skywhales until just now. What a huge, unsightly gap in my nerducation.
My old friend Adam Lamas and I were just wasting many precious hours of life watching catshavepsychoticepisodes on Teh YooToobz when suddenly he asked “wait, time out, have you seen Skywhales?” Nope, never heard of it. He made with the clickies and I promptly spilled bongwater wine all over myself.
My manta ray is all right.
Completed in 1983, Skywhales is an animated short about a race of green-skinned humanoid aliens who live on a floating island in the upper layers of a gaseous planet’s atmosphere. To survive, they hunt enormous manta ray creatures in pedal-powered airships. As this fansite author puts it, Skywhales “is a window onto an alien way of life–language, culture, taboos… as complete a picture as a short film has ever painted, and its final revelations are nothing short of haunting.”
And how! The “boo bee boo boo bee” stuff is a bit grating at first, but hang in there. It’s epic, as Nadya would say. Uber, even. Circle of life. See it! Skywhales! (Sorry, I just really like saying that. “Skywhales!” While making jazz hands.) But seriously. It’s gorgeous and poignant and disturbing. Like your mom. With a mohawk.
Skywhales!
Skywhales! Directed by Derek Hayes and Phil Austin and produced for Channel 4.
The oldest known folk song of Japan is called Kokiriko-Bushi. Villagers in secluded Gokayama used to perform it in honor of local Shinto deities.
A wonderfully daft electro-pop wizard who goes by Omodaka came up with the idea to revamp the song with chiptune vocals and Stevie Wonder-isms. He then handed the track over to the equally wonderfully daft animator Teppei Makki, who made the following video. It features a breakdancing marionette skeleton cutting a rug with a dexterous disembodied hand and assorted Residents reminiscent eyeball-headed women at the cosmic discotheque. Enjoy:
Hey, remember when Disney didn’t suck and blow simultaneously?
Deep down, most of us suspect that ol’ Uncle Walt was a sexist, racist, feeb-informing Machiavellian rat king. (Still, who doesn’t love Pinocchio?) And while there’s no doubt Disney’s recent corporate merge with Pixar and subsequent shakedown (leaving prodigies Lasseter, Catmull and Jobs steering the ship) will bring back much of the first company’s long lost artistry, the question bears repeating: have the past 20 years of Disney output have blown epilepticpygmy goats,or what? Wtf happened?*
Never mind. Let’s focus on the semi-positive and take a look Disney’s chaotic neutral, pre-sucky years. I know I’m not the only one with fond recollections of the many offbeat live action flicks Disney produced in the late 70s and early 80s. Uncle Walt was in cryogenic deep freeze and the company’s heyday was fading, but gems like TRON, Something Wicked This Way Comes, and most poignantly their ridonkulous sci-fi space epic, The Black Hole all have a special place in this gal’s personal What Made Me Weird lexicon.
Yvette Mimieux gets some much-needed laser surgery.
Produced on the heels of Star Wars’ popularity, The Black Hole is one of Disney’s last gasps of cornball genius. Sure, it’s got problems. No originality, for starters. As one reviewer put it “[this is] nothing but a ‘creepy old house’ movie set in space.” Also, the screenwriters seem to have been unsure what demographic they were writing for, resulting in a plot that insults adult viewers’ intellects while still managing to scare the ever-loving crap out of children (and making The Black Hole the first PG-rated film in Disney history). Hokey dialog and unfortunate wardrobe choices abound. But if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times; you can’t go wrong with Ernest Borgnine. If that’s not enough to entice you, there’s John Barry’s amazing score, the incredible scale models and sets, scene after scene featuring beautiful, richly colored matte paintings of deep space, and Anthony Perkins getting the Cuisinart treatment.
Best for last, the Maximilian <3 Reinhardt 4-Ebber (In Hell) ending:
Every once in a while something so amazing slips past us that we can but weep in mourning of lost time, once the Amazing Thing is discovered at last.
I remember mention of The Mysterious Explorations of Jasper Morello when it was first released in 2005 but it was tragically lost in the rumbling noise of the Internet, before I could watch it. The IMDB synopsis of this gorgeous silhouette animation is as follows:
“Set in a world of iron dirigibles and steam powered computers, this gothic horror mystery tells the story of Jasper Morello, a disgraced aerial navigator who flees his Plague-ridden home on a desperate voyage to redeem himself. The chance discovery of an abandoned dirigible leads Jasper through unchartered waters to an island on which lives a terrifying creature that may be the cure for the Plague. The journey back to civilization is filled with horrors but in a shocking climax, Jasper discovers that the greatest horror of all lies within man himself. “
Today by pure chance I re-discovered this gem of animation on the ol’ YouTube and am about to buy the DVD to finally put an end to my ignorance. Has anyone here seen this?
It happened well over a decade ago, but the memory is crystal: my best bud Gooby Herms, fellow purveyor of All That Is Wackadoo, leaped up from the threadbare couch bellowing “holy crap, you’ve never seen the Billy Nayer Show?!” With a table top drum roll, he popped his scuzzy bootleg of The Ketchup and Mustard Man into the VCR and pressed play. My jaw hit the floor… repeatedly. I’ve been an idolator at the shrine of BNS ever since.
When bandleader Cory McAbee and company released The American Astronaut in 2001, I knew the world was in for it:
Space travel has become a dirty way of life dominated by derelicts, grease monkeys, and hard-boiled interplanetary traders such as Samuel Curtis… this sci-fi, musical-western uses flinty black and white photography, rugged Lo-Fi sets and the spirit of the final frontier. We follow Curtis on his Homeric journey to provide the all-female planet of Venus with a suitable male, while pursued by an enigmatic killer, Professor Hess. The film features music by The Billy Nayer Show and some of the most original rock n’ roll scenes ever committed to film.
While these days everything Disney isn’t exactly perceived as cutting edge, things were different back in the day. Just think of gloriously creepy Fantasia and Pinocchio, both the fruit of Disney’s collaboration with Bauhaus painter Oskar Fischinger.
Disney intended to continue bringing in artists to further expand his studio’s horizons, and Destino was meant to be his next step in that direction. Salvador Dali thought very highly of Disney and cherished the project, completing for it 2 paintings at 135 sketches. A surrealist love story conceived and subsequently shelved in the 40s, Destino was finally unearthed, finished and released in 2003 on orders of Walt Disney’s nephew.
Update! If you’re in LA, you can see Destino for yourselves at LACMA through January 6. Thanks for the tip, 5000!
Though personally I would have preferred Dali traveled in time and worked with Peter Chung, this remains a fine testament to both Dali and Disney’s former glory. One more video beyond the jump.
Cinemagician Georges Méliès is best known for his groundbreaking films Trip to the Moon (1902) and The Impossible Voyage (1904), both loosely based on the stories of Jules Verne. Following their colossal success, the prolific cinematographer made hundreds more trick film fantasies like this charming short, Princess Nicotine (alternately titled The Smoke Fairy). It’s no wonder he earned the title Father of Special Effects.
EDIT: Oh noooo… did a wee bit more research on this clip. It’s actually NOT Méliès! Princess Nicotine was directed by J. Stuart Blackton, who also created the first animated film. Woops! My bad.
