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Beautiful Day: The Don Hertzfeldt Q&A.

In which the singular creator of It’s Such a Beautiful Day and the World of Tomorrow trilogy answers 57 questions put to him by the Letterboxd community, about death, gills, snacks, back flips, the best time of day to watch a movie, and the sick pleasure of emotionally destroying people.

Since his first animated outings in the 1990s, filmmaker Don Hertzfeldt has had a way of staring deeply into humanity’s soul via a humble stick figure, and his skill at blending existential questions with situational humor breeds intense reactions. To browse Letterboxd reviews of Hertzfeldt’s animated works is to meet film lovers at a rare, collective gathering point: heaping great piles of love for films that do “the exact opposite of helping with depression”.

There’s something optimistically anti-feel-good in Hertzfeldt’s works; a bleak view of the future, and a frank appreciation of death’s inevitability, that makes viewers urgently want to fix the way they’re living right now. “I’ve built a lot of my life philosophy on the messages of this film,” writes Misty, of his acclaimed It’s Such a Beautiful Day. “It has kicked my ass completely,” writes Dirk of the first, Oscar-nominated World of Tomorrow instalment, “making me angry at myself for letting trivial stuff take over things I love and making me happy I have so very, very much in my life to enjoy and be grateful for.”

The filmmaker’s magic lies as much in the process as the content: “Hertzfeldt is able to make every moment count,” writes Artpig, of the second WoT instalment, The Burden of Other People’s Thoughts, “every line of dialogue, every moment of silence, every note of music, every line of animation.” The World of Tomorrow films, says animation expert Toussaint Egan in our Letterboxd Show animation episode, are “some of the best science fiction films, period”.

And his timing. Oh, his timing. Just as the northern hemisphere days were turning cold, and the drawn-out misery of the pandemic was really taking hold all over again, Hertzfeldt tweeted:

WORLD OF TOMORROW EPISODE THREE everywhere october 9 5pm est 🚀

— don hertzfeldt (@donhertzfeldt)

October 8, 2020

And like that, World of Tomorrow Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime was ours, an overnight gift to the quarantined and bereaved-weary, on Vimeo for all to rent or own. The gifts, they keep coming: a master list of movies that have their fingerprints on the World of Tomorrow universe, and now, in recognition of our community’s love for his films—and in his signature lower-case—the answers to questions asked in an exclusive Letterboxd Q&A.

To make things easier for Don, we grouped similar questions (and have noted which members asked what). Read on for more than you ever thought you might get to know about Hertzfeldt’s process, brain, heart and influences.

Filmmaker Don Hertzfeldt.

From “holograms that yell at you!” to the stunning colors, textures and folds of the blue mountains, to attributes David progressively deletes to make room for memories, would you please give us an insight into World of Tomorrow Three’s world-building process? —Letterboxd in the grand scheme of the series, episodes one and two still felt like baby steps to me. episode three was my first chance to really start blowing things up and exploring this universe. when i’m writing, i don’t want to worry about going over the top or think about structure or meaning or really much of anything yet. writing is playtime, it should be fun and messy. i want to go over the top. there is no top. i don’t want to start thinking too much until i’m rewriting and sorting through it all. thinking too much too soon can get in the way, like being too aware of when you’re trying to fall asleep. when you write a diary entry or a text to a friend, there’s no self-consciousness or creative blocks, you just write. it’s casual and fluid and automatic. but if you’re asked to write a term paper or a screenplay, suddenly all those lights turn off. it can be paralyzing. it’s hard to get to that place of truly not caring what anyone thinks and approach all forms of writing just as freely as writing those immediate thoughts in your diary. but that’s what i try to do.

When you start writing a new piece, do you usually start with a plot idea, a thematic idea, one uniform philosophical notion, or a little bit of each? —Kodiak J. Sanders, Trenz, Mr. Tables i don’t think i ever write in a straight line. i’ll jot down a hundred stray ideas over time, and one day i’ll sit down and see what connections might be made out of them. i really want this scene to be in the movie, so how do i get there? this is a good line, how can i get a character to say it? so the actual story usually only starts to reveal itself when i sit down to logic all these bits and pieces out. hey, in order to connect this strange idea to that strange idea, suddenly there is a very interesting third scene.

I’m astounded by how much the animation and the visuals improve with each instalment of World of Tomorrow. What have you done differently for each one? —Aske Lund, Cringetacular the characters needed to physically perform a lot more in episodes two and three so there were more demands put on the animation. when emily 4 dances or david staggers up a mountain, those sorts of scenes were animated in “ones”, which means doing 24 drawings per second versus my usual twelve. it’s still all 2D hand animation, just more of a classic disney approach that gives the movement a smoother look and a little more room for nuance. and obviously it takes a lot more work. but i hesitate to call such things improvements because i’m not sure i like the idea of different techniques being thought of as good or bad. it’s just another way of doing things. it really depends, sometimes super limited animation can be more effective.

Likewise, Part Three’s sound design is incredible. What conditions did you create it in, and what are all those sounds, and how do you have such an incredible command of the cut-to-silence trick?! —Letterboxd thanks, the sound design is always my favorite thing to do. other than julia’s lines, it’s easy to forget that all the animation starts with dead silence. obviously there’s no sound coming from a live-action set. so adding sound and music to everything, usually pretty late in production, is when all the stuff i’ve been working on suddenly starts to feel like an actual movie. this is not a future that works very well—particularly david’s, which predates everything else we’ve seen so far by a century or two—so you’re hearing a lot of creaky old hard drives booting up, electric distortions, and bent circuits from broken toys.

Emily and Emily Prime in a still from ‘World of Tomorrow’ (2015).

World of Tomorrow used to fill me with existential dread, but now with the current state of the world it’s become more and more comforting in a strange way. Do you feel that at all as you make new episodes? —mariano gg i wish that were possible but when i’m making something i’m usually so close to it i’m unable to see anything but all the things i need to fix.

Can you talk a little bit about sourcing the photo-realistic images for the backgrounds in Part Three? —Jack Moulton most of the environments were 2D images i built in photoshop, usually starting from close-up photos of different textures (like sandstone), all sort of reshaped and puzzle-pieced into something new. an easy to see example was david’s cockpit, which was cobbled together from all sorts of different old aircraft engine and machine parts. the trick in building and lighting these locations was always figuring out where the line was drawn in making these places realistic, but not too realistic for minimal characters to inhabit. i kept landing on a sort of painterly looking middle ground.

If the cloning process in World of Tomorrow existed right now, would you go through that process and create clones of yourself to prolong your life? —tim probably not, that process doesn’t seem to work so well.

If you were put into the world you’ve created, would you buy gills? —Lauren Torres i tend to avoid putting my head under because i almost always get water in my ears so i guess i wouldn’t need them. gills also seem like they’d be a real nuisance to keep clean.

What does love mean, and why do your characters go through so much effort to find it? —Andrew Michalko oh man.

In this year of years, what do you hope people will understand about death and its inevitability (or is it all there on the screen, and if so, that’s okay too)? —Letterboxd understanding death and its inevitability is maybe the most valuable thing a person can do for themselves.

Was the absence of Emily Prime in Part Three a practical decision [Don’s then-four-year-old niece Winona provided Emily’s voice] or an intentional departure from the first two films? —Michael it was both. i couldn’t find a way to fit her in naturally and i also felt like the series needed to start growing in other directions and not rest on the past. episode two had also been really difficult to write, it was so reliant on winona’s recordings, and it felt like the dam was really broken when i was finally able to write without any restrictions this time.

In a series like World of Tomorrow, where you headed in a direction that is a lot more plot-driven than your previous work, how far in advance do you plan? Did you always know this was in David’s past, or are these stories told one at a time? —Ryan Welch, Kodiak J. Sanders, julius, Alex Leon i could tell early on that this wasn’t a story like it’s such a beautiful day with a clear beginning, middle and end, but a much wilder thing that could continue to grow. the openness of it is still what makes it so interesting to me. i have all sorts of notes for the next episodes but if i already knew what would happen in episode nine i think that would take a lot of the air out of the tires and i’d start to feel like i was just connecting the boring dots. while writing, i’ve also had to be aware that there someday might be an episode nine so i can’t go wrecking the timelines before i get there.

What were the rocks and the gas pump that Emily fell in love with meant to represent? —Ekaneff she was learning how to love, and like all of us, in her youth she gravitated to a bunch of individuals that were wrong for her.

Aside from the ability to release more frequently, is there something about the episodic structure that you prefer/appreciate, as opposed to creating one larger feature-length film? —SiddFinch1 there’s just more freedom. the traditional running time of a feature film, 90 to 120 minutes, is a totally arbitrary number.

Have you ever considered writing a World of Tomorrow book or graphic novel? —Jay Smith the earliest ideas for world of tomorrow were sloshing around in a graphic novel called the end of the world that came out in 2013. but i don’t have any talent or much confidence in making another book like that. it’s a different world. when i look at someone like chris ware and then look at something like the end of the world, it’s like, “wow, baby made a mess”.

A page from Don Hertzfeldt’s graphic novel, ‘The End of the World’ (2013).

What attracted you to the unique style [of minimalist stick figures]? Is there a sense of intimacy that you feel you can achieve with this simplicity? —Evan Whitford when i was little, before i wanted to make movies i wanted to be a newspaper cartoonist. i think my drawings today might have more in common with newspaper comics than the sort of characters you usually see in animation. comic-strip panels were always composed in a very reserved way because they were generally intended to be skimmed. you needed to be able to read the strip in five seconds so you could be off to read the sports pages and obituaries. the comics pages were also under constant size and space restrictions. so they were minimal by design and the artists reduced their characters to only their most essential parts. there was no room for fussing. charles schulz said “i only draw what’s necessary”. and that’s actually incredibly hard to do. you’re accomplishing so much more with so much less.

i’ve also found that if there’s a scene that’s not playing right and bothering me, most of the time it’s because my composition was too cluttered. i almost always find myself removing things from the frame and trying to pare it down to only what’s necessary. very rarely do i ever think ‘i need to add more stuff in here’. because this shot is only five seconds long and i want you to be looking over here when this moment happens and this character says something, and if you’re distracted by this other flickering junk i put in the corner it’s going to throw everything off.

Animation-aside, which creative medium do you resonate with the most? —Bronkdan music.

How much did you pull from real-life experiences to make It’s Such A Beautiful Day, if any? What research did you conduct into memory? —Gunnar Sizemore, David Sigura, Micah Smith whenever i got a little stuck writing it’s such a beautiful day, i’d go back and reread my journal and pull more things out of it. dreams, conversations, small scenes. reading the journal now, it seems like i stole something from it every few pages. i also heavily researched neurological problems. it’s never said in the movie what exactly’s going on with bill, but i needed there to be a real diagnosis to base the medical writing on. so all the things he’s going through are real treatments or symptoms based on an actual condition. i didn’t want to ever come out and say, “he’s got terminal brain clouds”, or whatever in the movie, because then it becomes a “brain-cloud movie”, and that’s too easy for the audience to compartmentalize and distance themselves from… “brain clouds are so rare, that will never happen to me”. but not being told exactly what’s wrong with bill might help make the story more relatable and universal.

In what ways have you kept your mind fresh creatively? How do you keep yourself from slipping into complacency? —Watchmoviez, Drew’s reviews most creative blocks or stagnation come from anxiety, second-guessing and doubt. over the years i’ve learned to just sort of calm down and trust myself more. it’s like the old aesop fable: when you stop thrashing around in the water, the water becomes clearer and you can see more. if a scene isn’t working right, i can more easily chill out about it these days and trust that i’ll eventually figure it out—because i’ve figured these sorts of things out a hundred times before and i know by now that i’m not the sort of person who’s just going to allow a scene that isn’t working to remain in the movie. there’s a little more panic about that sort of thing when you’re young: “oh no, the movie sucks right now, will it always suck?!” i’ve reached the point where i know that i will not let it suck. and that sort of thinking allows all the movie gears to turn more easily.

Do you have a specific thematic, emotional or other miscellaneous motive in mind when including classical music pieces? —James Y. Lee when i’m listening to music and suddenly the right piece arrives, it’s usually blindingly obvious to me: there’s just no doubt this needs to be in the movie somehow. it’s like the idea has always existed and i’ve just finally uncovered it. it’s the same with writing. when the right thing floats along, it is striking and obvious and into the pile of notes it goes.

How much of your animation style lends itself to experimentation, such as discovering new tricks and pretty shots, that is then discarded if you learn it doesn’t work as intended? —Adam, Jacob i think i’m always experimenting. i figure if it doesn’t work, at least i’ve learned something.

What is the strangest compliment or critique you’ve gotten personally or of your work? —Elliot Taylor i’ve always remembered this one. i am so proud of you came out a couple years after everything will be ok. it was a continuation of that story, so it was basically the first time i had ever made a sequel. and everything will be ok had done really well when it came out. it won sundance and got all these great reviews. so i am so proud of you comes out and i remember reading this review that says, “everything will be ok was probably my favorite animated short of all time. it honestly changed my life. it was funny, sad, beautiful and just so wonderful. everything will be ok, boy did i love it. incredible. two thumbs up. truly, best thing ever. wow. so, unfortunately, its sequel, i am so proud of you, just feels like more of the same.”

A still image from ‘It’s Such a Beautiful Day’ (2012).

Are there any pieces of fiction that have influenced your work that we probably wouldn’t think of? —Gyani Wasp, Mikolaj Perzyna, Aaron McMillan, Harrison, Axel, Cringetacular, The25centman, Hunter Guidry one thing that pops to mind is the phantom tollbooth. my favorite children’s books were the ones with all the fun metaphors and clever wordplay. when i was plotting out episode two i wanted to lean into that, where visiting different sections of emily’s brain would be like milo visiting the land of math, the land of letters, the land of sound, with different looks and logic to it. so we had the bog of realism, glimmers of hope, broken memories, the logic center, and all the stuff in triangle land and square land. i guess that’s a lot but i wish there had been a bit more.

How did your friends and family respond to the “my anus is bleeding” part of Rejected? —Alex Tatterson they were pretty used to me by then.

Do you know of the work of David Firth, the internet animator? His work is also surreal and has dark humor, but more sinister than whimsical. Would you ever consider making an animation in the realm of horror in future? —KEVIИ HДWKIИS i’m afraid i don’t know him. i’d love to make a horror movie. from a certain point of view though maybe it could be argued that most everything i’ve made is a sort of horror movie?

My first tattoo is of Billy from Billy’s Balloon hanging from his ankle and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. How do you feel about people having your work tattooed and do you have any ink from other creatives that have meant something to you? —Elias it really fucking enrages me when people get my stuff tattooed on them. no just kidding. mostly i feel embarrassed but i’m glad you haven’t changed your mind about it yet. sometimes i wonder how many people have.

Have you ever thought about directing live action? —Abeer, Noah Thompson yes.

Is there an update on your feature film Antarctica? —Rylan California it’s one of many things swirling around.

Will you do a remake of Robocop and why not next year? —Simon no, because robocop is already sort of perfect.

Do you ever see yourself directing a large studio film? Or working with a large team to make something with a higher budget, maybe through a crowd-funded project? Or do you just strongly prefer working on your own? —Vteyshev, Monotone Duck sure. i’ve never preferred working on my own at all. it was usually just the only way to ever get anything made. i haven’t had the funding to pay a big crew, or really much of a crew at all. there’s the old saying: you can make something good, you can make it fast, and you can make it cheap, but you can only pick two. if you make it good and fast it won’t be cheap, if you make it cheap and fast it won’t be good, etc. so my only route in hoping to make something good and cheap has been to totally forget about making it fast.

What did you find digital animation added or took away from your work, and what did those changes do for your storytelling? Will you continue using the digital medium when/if you decide to move on from the World of Tomorrow project? —Alec Lai, Slipkornbizkit, Aldo digital just sped everything up. it’s still one person drawing everything, so we need to remember that speed is relative here, but i felt like i went from riding a bicycle to driving a car. there are many pleasant, wonderful things about riding a bicycle but you’re not going to get anywhere very quickly. and i’m not in my 20s anymore, in fact my 20s and 30s were mostly entirely devoured by making movies in what was maybe the slowest way possible. so these days i am appreciating the speed of digital.

If you could have a conversation with any filmmaker, dead or alive, who would it be and why? —ToBeHonest, Cringetacular if i could resurrect one of my heroes from the dead i think i would feel terrible wasting his time forcing him to have a conversation with me. he might also just sit there, covered with graveyard dirt, screaming in horror.

What is the best time of day to watch a movie? —Sammy night. i always feel a little nuts coming out of a movie and the sun is still up.

What’s your all-time favorite science-fiction film, and why? —Letterboxd 2001. because come on.

What is your favorite of Julia Potts’ films, and why? —Letterboxd i like the one with the severed foot.

Are there any animated films that you felt had a profound impact on you as a child? —Sprizzle probably fantasia. and ray harryhausen stuff. whenever there was a sunday-afternoon movie on TV, my brother and i learned that if in the opening titles there was a credit for “special effects” we should keep watching because we might eventually see something cool.

Which one of your movies is your personal favorite? —Jakob Böwer, RodrigoJerez i don’t know. sometimes it’s the newest one because it’s usually the one with the most experience behind it and therefore feels like it has the fewest mistakes. but then over time i realize they’re all riddled with mistakes. of the it’s such a beautiful day pieces, i think my favorite has always been i am so proud of you. and then i’ll see reviews that say “clearly the second chapter is the weakest one”, and i’ll think, man you guys don’t know what you’re talking about.

One of Don’s layout sketches for ‘I Am So Proud of You’ (2008).

What’s your favorite Pixar film? —Jordan inside out.

What film would you want to be the last one you watch before you die? —Gavin honestly if i’m in the process of dying i hope i won’t be watching movies at all.

Do you have faith in humanity? —Connor Kriechbaum not often.

What is something that worries you about where humankind is headed? —Felix_Bouchard social media.

What is the most valuable thing you have ever lost? How often do you think about it? —Siminup well now i’m getting sad.

Can you do a back flip, mister Don? —Doug maybe with the help of a catapult.

What is your take on the after life? What do you think happens to us when we die? —Luisdecoss i guess that it’s probably a lot like our memory of what the year 1823 was like.

Do you want anything from McDonald’s? —Andrew Rhyne only if i’m in an airport and desperate.

What’s your favorite meal or snack? —Pfitzerone, Evan lately in quarantine i’ve been discovering this particular breakfast burrito.

How’s your quarantine life, Don? —Ivan Arcena it’s okay thanks. eating lots of breakfast burritos.

Hi! I can’t believe you’re going to read this. I am currently filled with an unparalleled amount of joy, wow. This is a long shot but here I go. I’m 17 and your (self-proclaimed) biggest fan. I’ve seen It's Such a Beautiful Day eight times now and every single time I pick up on more details. I’ve watched a few of your interviews and in the AFS one about Rejected you said that the louder you play a movie, the funnier it is. On my seventh watch of It’s Such a Beautiful Day I hooked my laptop up to three huge speakers and I must say—you were so, so right. I made a video essay about the movie. Lol, I’m not sure if this will get to you but Michael Jordan once said something about missing shots or not taking shots or maybe about tequila, I am unsure but I know it was important. Thanks MJ. Not you, Mr Jackson. I’m sorry Ms. Jackson…

I actually do have a question, sorry about the rambling. Every single time I watch the guy at the payphone flip his pencil and go “fantastic, fantastic” I cry. And I think what really does it for me is that “we’ll finally have our day”. Earlier in the movie, Bill’s co-worker talks about how all of time is happening at once. So what I constantly ask myself is if the guy at the payphone is simultaneously having his day and waiting for it. And I’m no longer speaking to that one specific example or even to the movie as a whole but I guess I’m wondering if the idea of all events happening at once comforts you?

In Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut writes: “The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.” When I read this I immediately thought about your movie. I think the idea of all of time happening at once makes all of life feel less important but more special. You know? Anyway, I suppose I’d just like to know what inspired the lines about time in the office scene. This isn’t much of a question, more an incoherent ramble but thank you so, so much for all you’ve done. I feel so incredibly inspired and so deeply moved by your work and I know that so many people in this comment section and around the world would agree. I can’t believe I’ve been given the opportunity to ask something. It really is such a beautiful day. :) —Eli Osei (co-signed by Vooder) that old guy at the payphone was someone i saw at the laundromat once and he borrowed my pencil and the whole thing just played out like in the movie. i just thought it was such a perfect little scene that i’d just witnessed. anyway, the idea of time being a landscape and everything taking place “at once” just came straight out of a science magazine. i don’t know how, but apparently it’s been more or less proven to be true? we perceive time in one direction, but the past and the future are always all around us. think of it as though we’re driving our car through a landscape. even though the mountains we saw ten minutes ago are behind us now, it doesn’t mean those mountains have ceased to exist. they’ve only ceased to exist from our point of view. we’ve only just driven past them. the mountains, like your childhood, are still going on back there. anyway, i had never heard of that before and thought it needed to be in a movie.

A still from ‘World of Tomorrow Episode Two: The Burden of Other People’s Thoughts’ (2017).

Are you a fan of Kurt Vonnegut by any chance? It may be coincidental, but I love how you both utilize science-fiction settings and concepts like being “unstuck from time/memory” to explore the human condition. I feel his writing and your animation are both capable of making me laugh wholeheartedly one minute and weeping genuine, sorrowful tears the next. —Vooder i’m embarrassed to say i’ve never read him and i’m told on a regular basis that i should. that all started after i am so proud of you came out with those discussions about time being a landscape. but i almost only ever read non-fiction. it’s a long story. but now i’m almost afraid to ever read vonnegut after all these years of build-up.

Hey Don, this is really cool. I don’t have as much of a question, more of a comment. It’s Such A Beautiful Day has gotten me through a lot of hard times, being in middle school sucks, I think everyone knows that: and your movie has made life just a wee bit better for me. It also gave me the inspiration and motivation to finish my first feature! Thanks lots. Love from Indiana —Blood Mountain: Experimental Cinema <3 hey thank you. yeah middle school was pretty much the deepest pit of hell. there’s this old saying, “if you find yourself in hell, keep going”. and i’ve never understood that saying. “keep going”, because, i guess, you can always just go deeper into hell?

Hi! Has the vitreous humour in your eyes started to deteriorate and have you experienced floaters within your eyeballs? If not, that’s okay. Just remember it’s part of life, so don’t get scared when it happens! Just keep moving on! But if you do have them, follow-up question: Do you think it’s funny that the body of vitreous fluid that allows your sight to be clear is called the vitreous humour, and when it detaches it’s anything but humorous? I find that pretty humorous myself, in, like, an ironic way. —Clbert1 i actually blew a blood vessel in my eye a couple weeks ago and the whole thing turned bright blood red. it didn’t hurt or anything, i just walked into the room all disgusting and my girlfriend was like, “what the fuck?!” and then the next day i had further weird eye problems. i just went to the eye doctor yesterday. i think i will be fine but i was thinking, wouldn’t it be like the most heavy metal thing ever for my biography if i just suddenly went BLIND? “and then in 2020, HE WENT BLIND.”

Will Intro ever be released to the general public outside of theater screenings? —Melissa okay yes you’ve talked me into it. on that note, i noticed that the poster of intro used on letterboxd is a weird fake and i’m not sure where it came from. someone just used a picture from rejected. if fake posters are to be made i would prefer it if they used a picture from raiders of the lost ark or something.

Do you have plans to combine the World of Tomorrow shorts into one feature-length film à la It’s Such a Beautiful Day? —David Sigura, Sam Stewart, An_Person no, it’s going to be much longer than a feature-length.

Will we ever get a ‘Hertzfeldt 4K Collection’? Or at least a Blu-ray with It’s Such a Beautiful Day and all episodes of World of Tomorrow? —Teebin, HippityHoppity there is actually already a blu-ray for it’s such a beautiful day. up next we’ll do some sort of world of tomorrow blu-ray of the first three episodes. but 4k is too many k’s. you don’t need that many k’s.

Would you ever consider comprising an OST album of all the songs you used and mixed from your films? —PhiloDemon i don’t think so. i read that for many years cat stevens resisted releasing his original songs from harold and maude on any records because he thought they were more special if you could only ever hear them in the movie. i like that.

Do you get a sick kind of pleasure from emotionally destroying people with your movies? —MaxT26 yep.

What’s been your ongoing experience of the outpouring of joy and love of your work? —Henry gratitude. how sad for me if, after all this work, nobody was watching at all.

Related content

Don’s invaluable Twitter thread about “old-school animation camera stuff”

A Few of the Fingerprints on the World of Tomorrow Universe: a list of influences curated for Letterboxd by Don Hertzfeldt

Modest Heroes: the Letterboxd Showdown for indie animation

The Drawn Cinema: Analena’s list of rough animation, pencil textures, watercolor effects, dynamic brushes and other poetic artistry.

Beloved Indie Animation: a list by Gui

Animated Sci-Fi and Fantasy: an extensive list by Stonefolk

‘World of Tomorrow Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime’ is available now through Bitter Films on Vimeo.

#don hertfeldt #world of tomorrow #it's such a beautiful day #animation #hand-drawn #hand drawn animation #2d animation #animated film #animated short #emily prime #david prime #science fiction #sci fi animation #animated sci fi #letterboxd

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antialiasis · 7 years

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FAR TOO EARLY THOUGHTS ON GROUNDHOG DAY THE MUSICAL

Because I am, ahem, a little actually full-on obsessed with this thing right now. Damn you Tim Minchin and your delicious deliciously dark serious humour.

(Far too early because I have not seen it and have no idea what I’m talking about and am trying to judge exclusively from listening to the soundtrack a lot, ahaha clearly I am Qualified to comment on it)

So in lieu of being able to actually see the musical, I rewatched the movie the other day, and along with some repeat listens to the soundtrack, it gave me Thoughts.

The movie is a fairly straight comedy. There is an element of existential horror to the premise, but it’s pretty much entirely played for laughs. Phil accepts the bizarre situation he’s in without much fuss aside from comical confusion and annoyance. There is, yes, the suicide montage (the most memorable part of the movie by far for me, because I am me). But it’s kicked off by the absurd, hilarious sequence where Phil kidnaps the groundhog, steals a car and then dramatically drives it off a cliff. “He might be okay,” Larry comments before the car explodes, then, “Well, no, probably not now.” Definitely played for laughs, and while the following montage isn’t comical in the same way until after the end (”I really, really liked him. A lot.”), it’s too short to actually whip back from comedy to any kind of serious emotional impact.

The premise of Groundhog Day interestingly invites the viewer to consider how the people around them are also people living their own lives, whose lives might be positively or negatively impacted by one’s own actions - Phil gets to know the life story of practically everyone in Punxsutawney, and eventually his character growth comes in the form of deciding to be a positive force in the lives of all these people - at least for this one day. But it is a bit of a shame that despite this premise, the supporting characters in the movie are pretty one-note and not very fleshed out - Rita gets to be a real, developed person who reacts to Phil in organic and fairly believable ways, but characters like Ned Ryerson are just standard exaggerated comedy people, who we get to see being exaggerated comedy people in a few different variations. It’s hard to truly get a sense that Phil has come to care about these people, because the movie doesn’t make them seem like actual people, just obstacles in his path that he eventually learns his way around. (Or, if you appreciate video game analogies, they are pretty much just NPCs with little sidequests that he’s learned to speedrun). As a result, I actually find his character development less convincing than it could be - there are really good moments that strengthen it (when he realizes on the day that he’s honest with Rita about what’s happening that she’s an infinitely better person than he is, and when he tries to save the homeless man), but the actual bit with him trying to help everyone in town falls flat in comparison, becomes a mere comedy routine rather than giving a real sense that he’s changed as a person.

So, what I’ve noticed from the soundtrack of the musical version is that it takes the premise a lot more seriously than the movie ever did, which is pretty exciting. Phil’s suicidal despair is actually dwelt on a bit and gets a pretty serious song exploring his tortured mental state as he tries to kill himself repeatedly - I also gather that his first suicide attempt involves him shooting the groundhog and himself with a gun, which definitely sounds a lot less comical than the version in the movie, although I can’t confirm that myself (God I want to see this show). And the second act appears to go to pains to spotlight at least two of the supporting characters (Nancy and Ned) as real people with their own rich inner lives, not simply props in Phil’s personal universe, which I imagine probably makes it a lot more genuine and rewarding when Phil starts to truly treat them that way. I really dig that; I hope that’s what they were going for and that it’s doing more of that (although obviously they wouldn’t have time to give a spotlight to every bit character).

ANYWAY. The soundtrack. I have listened to it enough to start to really appreciate the songs. Here are my favorites, not in much of a particular order.

Hope

Obviously. This song was written for me specifically, thank you Tim. Even if it weren’t about suicide, it’s a beautiful song and I love Andy Karl’s voice.

Favorite lyrics:

After acid and gas and guns and razors and rope, you may want to live but baby, don’t give up hope - I have buttons okay. In fact I’m pretty sure I have a special button just for characters listing off suicide methods, in pretty much any context; I seem to recall this just always gets me. Why? Who knows, but either way, FFFF

And in your head that leaden dread, the fucking roads have all been trod and there’s no way and there’s no God and God, oh God, this goddamn weather will last forever - leave it to Tim Minchin to punch me in the gut with precision F-strikes and repeated invocations of God.

Day Three

I just like listening to his mounting incoherent desperation. It makes me grin helplessly. Again, I have buttons. Also, the actual music is glorious, taking Day One and twisting it around and making it sound hellish and sinister. It’s great.

Favorite lyrics:

No. No. No! No! Come on! Don’t ring! Do not ring! Do not-- God, this--the hell’s happening? This--goddamn! God... damn! Somebody! Okay. I can figure this out. Figure it out, come on! Christ! Come on! Oh, damn it! Oh, God! What the hell! Help me! - yes, good, this is exactly what I wanted from this musical, A++

Day One

This one’s just really catchy. I have had it stuck in my head for days (specifically the first half, what I think people refer to as “Small Town, U.S.A.”, although on the track listing it’s just Day One).

Favorite lyrics:

And I’ve no qualm at all with your small-town people, I admire their balls getting out of bed at all to face another day in a shithole this small - just look what a gloriously condescending dick he is.

If I Had My Time Again

I really love this song musically, but the lyrics are even better; Rita with all her dreams and ambitions and desire to do things better is such a fantastic contrast to exactly how inane and self-centered Phil’s activities have been. I’m assuming this is played as the trigger for his character development, and it’s exactly spot-on. In the movie he just says that she’s such a much better person than he is; the musical shows it, in a way so achingly clear that there’s just no way for Phil to not see it himself.

Favorite lyrics:

Rita’s I always dreamt of learning how to dance / it’s so exciting / a new beginning every morning / to have the time to strive for more, interlaced with Phil’s Sometimes I go out without pants / I slept with 90% of women in Punxsutawney between 18 and 84 / and one dude when I was bored - Phil, striving for more.

Similarly, Rita’s I always fancied learning how to climb / I’d study math / and search for meaning / and run up hills / and learn to paint / just to know I can simultaneous with Phil’s I once masturbated seven times / in the bath / in one evening / it wasn’t fun but still / a man my age / it’s nice to know I can / it’s nice to know I can - w o w. Who wouldn’t slink back and rethink their entire life after this. (Also, it’s hilarious.)

And if you knew the endless nights that I have wasted getting wasted contemplating different ways to suicide - never mind me, just me and my buttons again.

One Day

I actually mostly love this one musically, but it’s also just a great ramble from Rita developing her character, and alongside its humour it establishes she has a bit of a romantic fantasy going on beneath a lot of layers of cynicism, setting up why she might nonetheless end up falling for a guy in the space of a day.

Favorite lyrics:

And I’d rather be alone if the only other option is succumb and settle down with some condescending clown with a great rating from some dating service, some self-professing Mr. Perfect, another narcissistic legend made a million out of hedge funds, another sexually ineffectual self-obsessing metrosexual pseudo-intellectual getting drunk and existential every time the Steelers lose a game - Tim Minchin in full form.

ANYWAY, I am a little obsessed, hopefully I can think a little less about this now that I’ve gotten some of it out of my system.

#groundhog day #groundhog day the musical #tim minchin #ramble #comedy #review #kind of #my buttons #adaptations #groundhog day musical

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spotlightsaga · 7 years

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Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews... F is For Family (S02E04) Night Shift Airdate: May 30, 2017 @Netflix @GaumontTV Ratings: Privatized @BillBurr @mikepriceinla Score: 8.75/10 @FYeahBill @FIFFNetflix TVTime/FB/Twitter/IG/Tumblr/Path/Pin: @SpotlightSaga **********SPOILERS BELOW********** 'Is my house clean?' No seriously, I'm gonna look up and you take a look in. I need to know... Can't go trouncing about town, especially the notorious 'Cocaine Cowboy City' of Miami with powder around the edges of my nostrils. I wouldn't think anyone, in any decade of existence, would want an onlooker seeing them trading coke for anything right out in the open... Whether that's in a record store, yes they still exist & I'm sure they would love a visit, or a street corner... I'd suggest visiting the record store over the street corner. Just as walking, talking, 'Teenage Turmoil', 'Trepidation Tornado' (Yeah, I'm also a sucker for wordplay), Kevin Murphy (Justin Long) is looking to make it big in what he sees as almost a dream world of sorts as a bonafide rockstar, he spots his well connected, high rolling neighbor, who is very much a part of that dream world, bribing an aggressively apprehensive DJ to play a pop record with a picture of a 'Teen Heartthrob' holding an adorable puppy on the front... But hey this is where they are in their lives. Pretty sure I've been lower. Vic (Sam Rockwell), along with the rest of the cast, has so much more room to breathe now that the series has been extended from 6-Episodes to the nicely rounded off number of 10 entries for S2. However, this means that Vic can no longer simply be that hurricane of a character, representing the perfect storm of carefree 1970's hedonism and indulgence. Suddenly, there are consequences for his actions and we are peaking into a long, dark tunnel where Vic is on the verge of an 'existential crisis'. No, there are no immediate repercussions for any of Vic's self destructive behaviors quite yet anyway, but the forlorn fates are written all over his face. Right now he's much closer to what we would refer to the point of 'existential dread' than we would call a full blown 'existential crisis'. The writers are smart though, they're giving you a peak of his cards without letting you see his full hand and that will surely create a helluva payoff when it it's finally time to pay the piper. That's a stark difference from a character that was once a quick, in & out, 2-D slice of animated comic relief. When it comes to television, cinema, film, real life, whatever... 'Existential' and 'Crisis' are literally my two favorite words in the English language, not only because they are so beautiful when paired together, but more so the fact that it's one thing Im actually good at. I know that's a really weird thing to be proud of, excited to dive into, or even claim to be 'good at'... But with all the LSD & DMT I've consumed in my life, I believe I've had more self-induced existential crisis and egodeath(s) than most of the worlds population. It's not just hallucinogenics and weird dissociatives, or even a finely tuned education in psychology & sociology that have made me an expert and lover of all things 'existential', it's also real life experience in all things crisis... Inner, outer, dramatic, and otherwise... I've always been dramatic, I got it from my mother, and her adoptive Mother... They are whatever is slightly above the 'every southern woman' version of Bette Davis & Joan Crawford. Everything is a spectacle, darling. Anxiety attacks are full on broadway performances, complete with Tony Awards, a nice Southern 'Wink', and a long list of 'Thank You's at the end... Oh and trips to the mall that start out sweet & fruitful and end in sheer terror. My Step-Father is more like the American Cherokee version of a cross between Tim Allen & Jim Gaffigan, if that makes sense. He has a traditional, signature style of humor that is both clean & observational and masculine & sometimes surprisingly crass, mainly due to his dual nature and long hard road from the cesspool of a nasty rock bottom to the heights of being a pillar of his community. There was a time in my life where these attributes all made me angry, just like Kevin. At that rebellious teenage age, if someone says go, you stop and if they say stop, you go. If a parental figure or an adult influence that we look up to makes a mistake, as a young adult many times we hold them to it unfairly... As if they're supposed to be perfect because they are the adult. As kids, we want to meet them halfway with unrealistic expectations. Essentially that's because adults meet their children and particularly teenagers with unrealistic expectations, themselves. Can't expect a toddler not to touch a hot stove, can't expect a little kid not to pick their nose (or worse), can't expect a teenager not to do usual teenager stuff, and we can't expect our parents to always remember all of that in times of stress. Looking back now (and let's hope Kevin moves forward to this place soon), I know that I learned the most from watching my parents make mistakes and subsequently finding a way to fix it, by any means necessary. Kevin is already sick over his issues with his dad, so he's practically ready to give up when he sees Vic forking over line after line until DJ Howlin' Hank (Josh Adam Meyers) would say he loves any record Vic gave him to play (yes, that includes records with vinyl covers that feature kids holding puppies that look like they "fell out of Donnie Osmond's pussy"). When one reaches the epiphany that hard work, talent, and actually being cool isn't what gets them to top, a breakdown of some sort is to be expected. Personally I've had this specific epiphany more than once (complete with influential dramatic Hollywood Breakdown), so a nice soul searching, ego shattering session of smoking weed (or simply insert alternative mind expansion drug here) his friends refer to as 'Oregon Gold dipped in Columbia River Salmon Piss' out of a baby doll made into a pipe is just what Kevin needs to push him to a point where he's ready to face this new, harsher, cruel world to get their band's ultimate goal achieved... Being played on the radio, preferably by DJ Howlin' Hank... Because, you know, at least they are 100% sure what it takes to make 'Hank Howl' (thanks, Vic)! So off the clueless teenage trio goes to score some blow. This should be good. Kevin has currently written off his father, Frank (Bill Burr), for his inability to accept a certain kind of defeat... Or better yet, I should say... Face his humility for a greater good and 'bite the bullet' at the unemployment office. He sees his father's stubborn pride as a weakness, when really like any human attribute, it's technically both a positive and a negative. The fact that Frank is lying to Sue (Laura Dern) about it, makes it all 100x worse, though... Creating a mountain blocking any possible view to see the silver lining. Frank taking a humiliating, lower paid job, just to avoid a handout is silly and ultimately a bit insane, but at least Frank is trying to do something instead of curling up into a corner & folding. Still, the whole ironic arrangement is not lost on us. Don't think for a moment that we won't be on the lookout for bumper stickers being sold at 'Hot Topic or 'Urban Outfitters' that say "Ask me about my Loser Husband's shit job!" Frank's insecurities and paranoia are officially at an all time high. His new boss Smoky (Michael Kenneth Williams) shows Frank the restrictive ropes of the world of vending machines, its many perks, and how to "Shove it. Slam it. Twist the lock. Stick the key inside your sock." Why can't the key just be on the key ring? Simple. "Because the rhyme came first, system came later." Frank is killing it, but an accident with the lock on the back door (see how important those rhymes are), ends up with the bag of change they've been collecting falling out of the back of the truck and finding it's way all over the dirty urban street. Frank goes into survival mode, scouring the street like a hardworking crackhead to recover the change. As this is happening, Kevin is out looking to score $10 worth of coke in the same seedy downtown neighborhood. Last time I checked $10 won't get you a bag of coke, and I live in a city where cocaine is easier to get than the attention of a bartender, and cheaper to get than a simple single liquor cocktail. These three young clowns mistake a pimp for a drug dealer and one of the funniest scenes of the series commences when the 'white' they are all so ready to score turns out to be an obese, Caucasian, $10 prostitute that has difficulties keeping one of her titties inside of her blouse. As the trio scrambles to escape the low rent hooker who offers to 'fuck them all if they have a sandwich bag', they end up passing Frank digging for nickels on the side of the street. Ok, ok... This is obviously the worst possible scenario for Kevin, but his frustrations lead him to march into the radio station with his band's demo tape in hand, demanding to be heard. Fuck the system, right? Everything might be going to shit for the characters in the Netflix Original 'F is For Family', but when you are down on your luck and you don't even know why you're stuck in a meaningless, chaotic existence... Suddenly an existential crisis becomes your best friend. Frank's embarrassing dedication to picking up the change in the street leads him to secure the job of no one's dreams, Sue has a sudden idea for a product invention when going through the mundane process of drying out her lettuce while making dinner salads, and Kevin's frustration & desperation pay off after the boys tune in to hear Vic use a two syllable taste of their song to introduce the weather segment. To three young boys with a pipe dream that's like the equivalent of being featured on MTV's 'Total Request Live' in 1999. Recently I've watched a friend go through a horrible incident and face their mortality. Suddenly that person is trapped in an existential nightmare... 'What's any of this worth if it really doesn't lead to anything, if we are all biding our time on this earth until the Grim Reaper comes-a-knocking anyway?' And that's just the base of it. We've all got our existential and emotional baggage to deal with, but it's the unexpected moments when you're at your lowest point that suddenly remind us that even tho we might all just be going through the motions and repeating history over and over, sudden sparks of light can suddenly reignite your passion for life... Its as all as easy as that, or as difficult as that, whichever way you want to look at it. Like Frank said in the beginning of FIFF's 'Night Shift', "I woulda killed myself, but I don't want to haunt my own house." **********Written By: Kevin Cage********** Special Thx: TVTime, Bill Burr, Michael Price, Jerry Wilson, Kat Holiday, Chad Rigsby... Dedicated to: Denver G. Pratt http:://www.tvtime.com http://www.spotlightsaga.com http://www.facebook.com/SpotlightSaga http://www.facebook.com/groups/ArtsEntertainment

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violetsystems · 6 years

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#personal

I met up with my mom at the train yesterday and hung out for her birthday in my neighborhood for Day of the Dead. She turned 69 and has been letting her hair grow out white. She looks very pretty these days and seemed really happy to be taking pictures of the parade with her kindle. I grew up dancing with her to old disco records and sometimes I can tell you it was torture. I literally had to learn dance steps over and over by rote so she could practice for dancing in the club with my dad. There was some famous song in Spanish that was not Despacito playing from a open trunk in the procession. She would bounce around every once and awhile. I remember she was really into this band when we all visited Jamaica together when I was twelve. I was less than enthused back then. Now it’s nice to see everything just kind of fit in place in the open here. Like I’m not hiding some dark secret somewhere. I never was. People just like to talk shit about people like they have nothing better to do. I go out and shop for groceries like anybody else. I ran into Beau Wanzer in the supermercado. We talked about how we played Vancouver together awhile back. I hung out in Richmond. I told him I felt Richmond was the closest I could get to China legally and that I really loved China. That’s no lie. I was in the elevator the other day and somebody was talking about socialism. I just outright said I was communist. Maybe it was the other way around. Either way it was in context of knowing the drill sometimes. I often like to quote the Joker when he says we live in a society. I actually don’t know if the joker said that or if it was a meme. After a run this week I passed by some asshole reciting lines as the Joker in some monologue on the street at seven am. Insult to injury, he went on to explain that he was not the Joker. The nerve of that asshole. Chicago is free enough to do that I guess. But I live in a community. And the many onion layers of those communities that trust me enough to be myself have their own expectations of me. Some of them are realistic. Some of them cross the line. Some of them I stomach because nobody is resisting. But privacy is something I’ve always held the line with. Because the grim truth is the only person who knows what’s going on with me most of the time is me. And sometimes even then I have no clue. How is that even safe? For me it generally isn’t in some situations and I have no choice but to act accordingly to make it so. And for me it’s to not react and walk away. Everybody wants to get a reaction out of you these days for sure. The truth is you get a reaction from me. Almost every week.

For some people closest to my heart, you get a reaction from me instantly. And for some people who don’t even care enough to understand I’m a human being, you get nothing but static. To quote a fading undercover shirt I bought in Tokyo years ago at this point “We like noise. It’s our choice.” How that static or noise is created for myself the last few years has been through street wear. I’ve lived to see enough iterations of it and amassed quite a large collection of Japanese centric pieces. I wear them out. Literally. Until they crack, lose their context, fall out of fashion and back into it again. Undercover is one of the worst and cruelest jokes for me. I often reference that Daul Kim was the first person to call out Jun for lack of casting diversity. Everybody knows I care very deeply about Daul from a sociopolitical and feminist perspective. She is still a strong voice thanks to the internet and places like this. Years ago I saw somebody I admired and was inspired by that ended her life too soon. Always fighting something. Always feeling alone in the process. That to me was a sign of resistance that I did not understand. I used her as an anchor to understand Korea in a very different way. It led me on my travels to meet people and hear their suggestions of what I should pay attention to. It was a long and often arduous journey. Starting in the basement of the comfort women museum in Seoul and ending somewhere lost in a Day of the Dead parade with very little changing. The statements are always there. Maybe the person saying them changes a bit. But people still don’t listen. They still don’t want to believe. They still don’t want to let you speak for yourself. Because it contradicts things and brings up the delicate balance between exploitation and making an artistic statement about the real problem. It all follows me around like a ghost sometimes. Like I’m a curry stained container that took a joke way too far. Or maybe I’m just a very genuine and focused person that has been abused day in and day out for a series of months. Years maybe. Just like some of the women I most admire and am inspired by to be something better for myself. Better for them. Better for everyone. But definitely not a victim. I’m not really a victim anymore. To tell the truth I don’t think anybody really knows what I am anymore. My mom said my apartment was starting to look like a real adult lived there. She then proceeded to point out exactly how many magic cards I had collected since we last spoke. I told her I needed to amass a strong army to fight the coming darkness. Which makes me sound like some type of legendary Warlock from the Underworld growing vines in my kitchen to protect what I hold dear.

It’s not satire or performance anymore that I do actually care. It’s also not a far stretch to understand that not too many people are capable of caring about me. Circumstances being as extraordinary as they are and the powers I resist seamlessly day to day without much of a yawn I also don’t see myself caving in or stopping anytime soon. That’s the grim reality people start to see when the cold creeps in. That I’ve survived so many winters alone at this point that I’ve become the living embodiment of Kurt Russell in the Thing. This apartment filled with plants is my sole outpost. I’ve really been happy focusing on stuff I planted years ago now indoors. I get to see the cycle up close and personal in my kitchen with the occasional house centipede challenging my view. I can get anywhere in the city by train in a moment’s notice. I took the train home the other day to drop off the rent. I ran into the same people on the way back. Sometimes that’s fate. Sometimes that’s fucked up. Either way this is Chicago. I live in America. I keep myself free. I stay accountable and apparently sometimes people like to feel what it’s like to be around it in public. So much so that I don’t know that I feel all that out of place flying to New York on a Saturday and visiting all the places I haven’t been to in ages. Then fly back home on a Sunday evening and head back to work on a Monday like nothing ever happened. Maybe even Monday morning. I’ve done it before. A couple of times. And I still have thirty six vacation days left that I have no idea how or where to spend until next July. If I can just survive whatever alien invasion exists just out of reach. Where you don’t know who is friend or foe. I don’t know that I actually care too much these days. It’s easy enough to tell in my dash. I don’t have a lot of existential dread other than what gets reflected here. People seem to not mind too terribly. I wake up every day and do it over again. I still think just as much if not more about you. I know it’s all sort of obtuse. All I know is being consistent has patterns to it much like visions. Wherever my mood has been trending all the winter is going to do is amplify the warmth of it. I’ll spend most of it watching things grow in the window of my kitchen. I’ll also spend a good portion of it in my down fit nike jacket from Switzerland. All wrapped up like a present. Air tight and solid as fuck. <3 Tim

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go7ravel · 6 years

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The ‘Busy’ Trap

By Tim Kreider

If you live in America in the 21st century you’ve probably had to listen to a lot of people tell you how busy they are. It’s become the default response when you ask anyone how they’re doing: “Busy!” “So busy.” “Crazy busy.” It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint. And the stock response is a kind of congratulation: “That’s a good problem to have,” or “Better than the opposite.”

Notice it isn’t generally people pulling back-to-back shifts in the I.C.U. or commuting by bus to three minimum-wage jobs who tell you how busy they are; what those people are is not busy, but tired. Exhausted. Dead on their feet.

It’s almost always people whose lamented busyness is purely self-imposed: work and obligations they’ve taken on voluntarily, classes and activates they’ve “encouraged” their kids to participate in. there busy because of their own ambition of drive or anxiety, because they’re addicted to busyness and dread what they might have to face in its absence.

Almost everyone I know is busy. They feel anxious and guilty when they aren’t either working or doing something to promote their work. They schedule in time with friends the way students with 4.0 GPA’s make sure to sign up for community service because it looks good on their college applications. I recently wrote a friend to ask if he wanted to do something this week and he answered that he didn’t have a lot of time but if something was going on to let him know and maybe he could ditch work for a few hours. I wanted to clarify that my question had not been a preliminary heads-up to some future invitation; this was the invitation. But his busyness was like some vast churning noise through which he was shouting out at me, and I gave up trying to shout back over it.

Even children are busy now, scheduled down to the half-hour with classes and extracurricular activities. They come home at the end of the day as tired as grown-ups. I was a member of the latchkey generation and had three hours of totally unstructured, largely unsupervised time every afternoon, time I used to do everything from surfing the World Book Encyclopedia to making animated films to getting together with friends in the woods to chuck dirt clods directly into on another’s eyes, all of which provided me with important skills and insights that remain valuable to this day. Those free hours became the model for how I wanted to live the rest of my life.

The present hysteria is not a necessary of inevitable condition of life; it’s something we’ve chosen, if only by our acquiescence to it. Not long ago I skyped with a friend who was driven out of the city by high rent and now has an artist’s residency in a small town in the south of France. She described herself as happy and relaxed for the first time in years. She still gets her work done, but it doesn’t consume her entire day and brain. She says it feels like college –she has a big circle of friends who all go out to the café together every night. She has a boyfriend again. (She once ruefully summarized dating in New York: “Everyone’s too busy and everyone thinks they can do better.”) What she had mistakenly assumed was her personality –driven, cranky, anxious and sad –turned out to be a deformative effect of her environment. It’s not as if any of us wants to live like this, any more than any one person wants to be part of a traffic jam or stadium trampling or the hierarchy of cruelty in high school –it’s something we collectively force on another to do.

Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day. I once knew a woman who interned at a magazine where she wasn’t allowed to take much hours out, lest she be urgently needed for some reason. This was an entertainment magazine whose raison d’etre was obviated when “menu” buttons appeared on remotes, so it’s hard to see this pretense of indispensability as anything other than a form of institutional self-delusion. More and more people in this county no longer make or do anything tangible; if your job wasn’t performed by a cat or a boa constrictor in a Richard Scarry book I’m not sure I believe it’s necessary. I can’t help but wonder whether all this histrionic exhaustion isn’t a way of covering up the fact that most of what we do doesn’t matter.

I am not busy. I am the laziest ambitious person I know. Like most writers, I feel like a reprobate who does not deserve to live on any day that I do not write, but I also feel that four or five hours is enough to earn my stay on the planet for one more day. On the best ordinary days of my life, I write in the morning, go for a long bike ride and run errands in the afternoon, and in the evening, I see friends, read or watch a movie. This, it seems to me, is a sane and pleasant pace for a day. And if you call me up and ask whether I won’t maybe blow off work and check out the new American Wing at the met or ogle girls in Central Park of just drink chilled pink minty cocktails all day long, I will say, what time?

But just in the last few months, I’ve insidiously started, because of professional obligations, to become busy. For the first time I was able to tell people, with a straight face, that I was “too busy” to do this or that thing they wanted me to do. I could see why people enjoy this complaint; it makes you feel important, sought-after and put-upon. Except that I hate actually being busy. Every morning my in-box was full of emails asking me to do thing I did not want to do or presenting me with problems that I now had to solve. It got more and more intolerable until finally I fled town to the Undisclosed Location from which I’m writing this.

Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets. The space and quiet that idleness provides is a necessary condition for standing back from life and seeing it whole, for making unexpected connections and waiting for the wild summer lightning strikes of inspiration –it is, paradoxically, necessary to getting any work done. “Idle dreaming is often of the essence of what we do,” wrote Thomas Pynchon in his essay on sloth. Archimedes’ “Eureka” in the bath, Newton’s apple, Jekyll & Hyde and the benzene ring: history is full of stories of inspirations that come in idle moments and dreams. It almost makes you wonder whether loafers, goldbricks and no-accounts aren’t responsible for more of the world’s great ideas, inventions and masterpieces than the hardworking.

“The goal of the future is full unemployment, so we can play. That’s why we have to destroy the present politico-economic system.” This may sound like the pronouncement of some bong-smoking anarchist, but it was actually Arthur C. Clarke, who found time between scuba diving and pinball games to write “Childhoods’ End” and think up communications satellites. My old colleague Ted Rall recently wrote a column proposing that we divorce income from work and vide each citizen a guaranteed paycheck which sounds like the kind of lunatic notion that’ll be considered a basic human right about a century, like abolition, universal suffrage and eight-hour workdays. The Puritans turned work into a virtue, evidently forgetting that God invented it as punishment.

Perhaps the world would soon slide to ruin if everyone behaved as I do. But I would suggest that an ideal human life lies somewhere between my own defiant indolence and the rest of the world’s endless frenetic hustle. My role is just to be a bad influence, that kid standing outside the classroom window making faces at you at your desk, urging you to just this once make some excuse and get out of there, come outside and play. My own resolute idleness has mostly been a luxury rather than a virtue, but I did make a conscious decision, a long time ago, to choose time over money, since I’ve always understood that the best investment of my limited time on earth was to spend it with people I love. I suppose it’s possible I’ll lie on my deathbed regretting that I didn’t work harder and say everything I had to say, but I think what I’ll really wish is that I could have one more beer with Chris, another long talk with Megan, one last good hard laugh with Boyd. Life is too short to be busy.

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frightfullyfantastic · 7 years

Text

Lazy

By Tim Kreider

If you live in America in the 21st century you've probably had to listen to a lot of people tell you how busy they are. It's become the default response when you ask anyone how they're doing: "Busy!" "So busy." "Crazy Busy." It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint. And the stock response is a kind of congratulation: "That's a good problem to have," or "Better than the opposite."

This frantic, self-congratualtory busyness is a distinctly upscale affliction. Notice it isn't generally people pulling back-to-back shifts in the ICU, taking care of their senescent parents, or holding down three minimum-wage jobs they have to commute to by bus who need to tell you how busy they are; what those people are is not busy but tired. Exhausted. Dead on their feet. It's most often said by people whose lamented busyness is purely self-imposed: work and obligations they've taken on voluntarily, classes and activities they're "encouraged" their kids to participate in. They're busy because of their own ambition or drive or anxiety, because they are addicted to busyness and dread what they might have to face in tits absence.

Almost everyone I know is busy. They feel anxious and guilty when they aren't working or doing something to promote their work. They schedule in time with their friends the way 4.0 students make sure to sign up for some extracurricular activities because they look good on college applications. I recently wrote a friend asking if he wanted to do something this week, and he answered that he didn't have a lot of time but if something was going on to let him know and maybe he could ditch work for a few hours. My question had not a preliminary heads-up to some future invitation: This was the invitation. I was hereby asking him to do something with me. But his busyness was like some vast churning noise through which he as shouting out at me, and I gave up trying to shout back over it.

I recently learned a neologism that, like political correctness, man cave, and content-provider, I instantly recognized as heralding an ugly new turn in the culture: planshopping. That is, deferring committing to any one plan for an evening until you know what all your options are, and then picking the one that's most likely to be fun/advance your career/have the most girls at it -- in other words, treating people like menu options or products in a catalog. Even children are busy now, scheduled down to the half hour with enrichment classes, tutorials, and extracurricular activities. At the end of the day they come home as tired as grownups, which seems not just sad but hateful. I was a member of the latchkey generation, and had three hours of totally unstructured, largely unsupervised time every afternoon, time I used to do everything from scouring The World Book Encyclopedia to making animated movies to convening with friends in the woods in order to chuck dirt clods directly into one another's eyes, all of which afforded me knowledge, skills, and insights that remain valuable to this day.

The busyness is not a necessary or inevitable condition of life; it’s something we’ve chosen, if only by our acquiescence to it. I recently Skyped with a friend who had been driven out of New York City by the rents and now has an artist’s residency in a small town in the South of France. She described herself as happy and relaxed for the first time in years. She still gets her work done, but it doesn’t consume her entire day and brain. She says it feels like college — she has a circle of friends there who all go out to the cafe or watch TV together every night. She has a boyfriend again. (Sh once ruefully summarized dating in New York: “Everyone is too busy and everyone thinks they can do better.”) What she had mistakenly assumed was her personality — driven, cranky, anxious, and sad — turned out to be a reformative effect of her environment, of the crushing atmospheric pressure of ambition and competitiveness. It’s not as if any of us wants to live like this, any more than any one person wants to be part of a traffic jam or stadium trampling or the hierarchy of cruelty in high school; it’s something we collectively force one another to do. It may not be a problem that’s soluble through any social reform or self-help regimen; maybe it’s just how things are. Zoologist Konrade Lorenz calls “the rushed existence into which industrialized, commercialized man has precipitated himself” and all its attendant afflictions — ulcers, hypertension, neuroses, etc. — an “inexpedient development,” or evolutionary maladaptation, brought on by our ferocious intraspecies competition. He likens us to birds whose alluringly long plumage has rendered them flightless, easy prey.

I can’t help but wonder whether all this histrionic exhaustion isn’t a way of covering up the fact that most of what we do doesn’t matter. I once dated a woman that interned at a magazine where she wan’t allowed to take lunch hours out, lest she be urgently needed. This was an entertainment magazine whose raison d’etre had been obviated when Menu buttons appeared on remotes, so it’s hard to see this pretense of indispensability as anything other than a form of institutional self-delusion. Based on the volume of my email correspondence and the amount of Internet ephemera I am forwarded on a daily basis, I suspect that most people with office jobs are doing as little as I am. More and more people in this country no longer make or do anything tangible; if your job wasn’t performed by a cat or a boa constrictor or a worm in a Tyrollean hat in a Richard Scarry book I’m not convinced it’s necessary. Yes, I know we’re all very busy, but what, exactly, is getting done? Are all those people running late for meetings and yelling on their cell phones stopping the spread of malaria or developing feasible alternatives to fossil fuels or making anything beautiful?

The busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness: Obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day. All this noise and rush and stress seem contrived to drown out or over up some fear at the center of our lives. I know that after I’ve spent a whole day working for running errands or answering emails or watching movies, keeping my brain busy and distracted, as soon as I lie down to sleep all the niggling quotidian worries and Big Picture questions I’ve successfully kept at bay come crowding into my brain like monsters swarming out of the closet the instant you turn off the nightlight. When you ty to meditate, your brain suddenly comes up with a list of a thousand urgent items you should be obsessing about rather than simply sit still. One of my correspondents suggests that what we’re all so afraid of is being left alone with ourselves.

I’ll say it: I am not busy. I am the laziest ambitious person I know. Like most writers, I feel like a reprobate who does not deserve to live on any day that I do not write, but I also feel like 4 or 5 hours is enough to earn my stay on the planet for one more day. On the best ordinary days of my life, I write in the morning, go for a long bike ride and run errands in the afternoon, and see friends, read or watch a movie in the evening. The very best days of my life are given over to uninterrupted debauchery, but these are, alas, undependable and increasingly difficult to arrange. This, it seems to me, is a sane and pleasant pace for a day. And if you call me up and ask whether I won’t maybe blow off work and check out the new American Wing at the Met or ogle girls in Central Park or just drink chilled pink minty cocktails all day long, I will say, “What time?"

But just recently, I insidiously started, because of professional obligation to become busy. For the first time in my life I was able to tell people, with a straight face, that I was “too busy” to do this or that thing they wanted me to do. I could see why people enjoy this complaint: It makes you feel important, sough-after, and put-upon. It’s also an unassailable excuse for declining boring invitations, shirking unwelcome projects, and avoiding human interaction. Except that I hated actually being busy. Every morning my inbox was full of emails asking me to do things I did not want to do or presenting me with problems that I had to solve. It got more and more intolerable, until finally I fled town to the Undisclosed Location from which I’m writing this.

Here I am largely unmolested by obligations. There is no TV. To check email I have to drive to the library. I go a week at a time without seeing anyone I know. I’ve remembered about buttercups, stinkbugs, and the stars. I read a lot. And I’m finally getting some real writing done for the first time in months. It’s hard to find anything to say about life without immersing yourself in the world, but it’s also just about impossible to figure out what that might be, or how best to say it, without getting the hell out of it again. I know not everyone has an isolated cabin to flee to. But not having cable or the Internet turns out to be cheaper than having them. And nature is still technically free, even if human beings have tried to make access to it expensive. Time and quiet should not be luxury items.

Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence, or a vice: It is an indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets. The space and quiet that idleness provides is a necessary condition for standing back from life and seeing it whole, for making unexpected connections and waiting for the wild summer lightning strikes of inspiration — it is, paradoxically, necessary to getting any work done. “Idle dreaming is often the essence of what we do,” writes Thomas Pynchon in his essay on Sloth. Archimedes’ “Eureka” in the bath, Newton’s apple, Jekyll and Hyde, the benzine ring: history is full of stories of inspiration that came in idle moments and dreams. It almost makes you wonder whether loafers, goldbrickers, and no-accounts aren’t responsible for more of the world’s great ideas, inventions, and masterpieces than the hardworking.

"The goal of the future is full unemployment, so we can play. That’s why we have to destroy the present politico-economic system.” This may sound like the pronouncement of some bong-smoking anarchist, but it was in fact Arthur C. Clarke, who found time between scuba diving and pinball games to write Childhood’s End and think up communications satellites. Ted Rall recently wrote a column proposing that we divorce income form work, giving each citizen a guaranteed paycheck, which sounds like the kind of lunatic notion that’ll be a basic human right in about a century, like abolition, universal suffrage, and 8-hour workdays. I know how heretical it sound in America, but there’s really no reason we shouldn’t regard drudgery as an evil to rid the world of if possible, like polio. It was the Puritans who perverted work into a virtue, evidently forgetting that God invented it as a punishment. Now that the old taskmaster is out of office, maybe we could all take a long smoke break.

I suppose the world would soon slide to ruin if everyone behaved like me. But I would suggest that an ideal human life lies somewhere between my own defiant indolence and the rest of the world’s endless frenetic hustle. My own life has admittedly been absurdly cushy. But my privileged position outside the hive may have given me a unique perspective on it. It’s like being the designated driver at a bar: When you’re not drinking, you can see drunkenness more clearly than those actually experiencing it. Unfortunately the only advice I have to offer the Busy is as unwelcome as the advice you’d give to the Drunk. I’m not suggesting everyone quit their jobs — just maybe take the rest of the day off. Go play some see-ball. Fuck in the middle of the afternoon. Take your daughter to a matinee. My role in life is to be a bad influence, the kid standing outside the classroom window making faces at you at your desk, urging you to just this once to make some excuse and get out of there, come outside and play. Even though my own resolute idleness has mostly been a luxury rather than a virtue, I did make a conscious decision, a long time ago, to choose time over money, since you can always make more money. And I’ve always understood that the best investment of my limited time on earth is to spend it with people I love. I suppose it’s possible I’ll lie on my deathbed regretting that I didn’t work harder, write more, and say everything I had to say, but I think what I’ll really wish is that I could have one more round of Delanceys with Nick, another long late-night talk with Lauren, one last hard laugh with Harold. Life is too short to be busy.

#lazy #busyness #busy #life

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