Image
File
: by Peter T. Chattaway
It’s not the sort of thing an animation n
_ aficianado wants to admit, but if you p
arrived’about 70 minutes late for the
Ridge 7 Theawe, , Friday
_ latest offering from the Spike & Mike he
franchise, you wouldn't have missed
_ awhole lot. This is the first Festival to
_ be compiled without any input from
_ Mike, who died of pancreatic cancer Beatn
_ before last year’s tour could get
underway, and at times one can’t help
_ but think that he took most of the Her
- talent-scouting smarts with him. There
_ is good news, though: even if you.
_ missed the first 70 minutes, the be
_ Temaining show would still be worth — sc
the price of admission.
It’s not that the films on display this
year are bad, per se. But with few
exceptions, they feel like lacklustre
experiments in technique, with no soul
— dare I say animus? — to make them
_ truly come alive, At times I was
reminded of those late-19th century
_ filmstrips in which naked people
walked back and forth, up and down
stairs, and every now and then flung a
javelin at somebody, Interesting
studies in motion, to be sure, but after
a while you want something more: a
story, say, or a hint of personality.
"Some of the lazier offenders in this
regard are the “pet” cartoons.
_ Watching Three After Thoughts,
Sophie, and Fluffy (whose Tinker-Toy
anatomy is anything but) is like
- watching someone else’s home
seven minutes, which is fine if you like
his stuff (and I do), but those who reli
haven't acquired a taste for his i
minimalistic approach will likely be
bored.
Some of the choicest eision: a
no more than one or two minutes.
Kebabaluba is a maddeningly brief
introduction toa Turkish donair vendor;
no sooner have we warmed up to him
than the tale ends. Passages builds on
the shifting-scenery gimmick by ripping
its paper background into drifting Arctic
floes that the hand-drawn characters
must navigate. And then there’s Pacifier.
Sharp stuff. And, along with the
delightful Gagarin (in which a i
Plympton riffs on his Nose Hair for 5
June 1996
if, and sone Rube Gol d berg
devices (check out the porridge : cannon
and their bungee-jumping window-
washing service). And just to make
things even more interesting, Wallace
may have found the love of his life in
Wendolene Ramsbottom. But the
towering, villainous bulldog is just a tad
obvious, and emblematic of this
Festival’s misguided emphasis on
mechanics over soul. Park got
caterpillar tries to fly before its time), a eyed bl
welcome sien | that a animators in the
A yingl mita
yingl hot epes a
tam
The Celluloid Closet of Yiddish film
by B.C. Allen
Recently I was the victim of one of
those Artsy Fartsy “Let’s dissect a film,
see how it makes us feel and then go for
Latte Mochas and decaf Americanos.”
Thanks Rachel!
To be honest, I don’t know the first
thing about Yiddish film, especially any
gay and lesbian subtext in it. I wasn’t
sure what to expect, maybe some
hidden meaning in that which we
see everyday. Let’s face it, almost
everyone has seen a film or two
and how many see it for what it
is really worth? There is always
something hiding, like the
erection in Disney’s Aladdin.
And who could miss the lusty
puppet love between Bert and
Ernie?
The focus for the evening was
on various Yiddish films, such as
Yidl Mit Fidl, Amerikaner
Shadkhn and Der Vilner Shtot-
Khazn. Both Yidl Mit Fidl and
Der Vilner Shtot-Khazn were
filmed entirely in Yiddish in
Eastern Europe, so were a bit
more difficult to follow.
Amerikaner Shadkhn(American
Matchmaker) was filmed in New
York and is well known for its
music.
Being unfamiliar with the
Yiddish culture, I can only trust
what Eve Sicular (researcher and
historian) presented about the films.
Unfortunately Eve Sicular has left
Vancouver as has her presentation.
However, if you hear of any events of
this sort, I encourage you to give it a
chance—you might learn something.
Discovered on
the Web
“TRASH THE TR
CONSPIRAC) (
or knock ed-off? ©
a _ graphic from the comedy central website
4
Edited Text
: by Peter T. Chattaway
It’s not the sort of thing an animation n
_ aficianado wants to admit, but if you p
arrived’about 70 minutes late for the
Ridge 7 Theawe, , Friday
_ latest offering from the Spike & Mike he
franchise, you wouldn't have missed
_ awhole lot. This is the first Festival to
_ be compiled without any input from
_ Mike, who died of pancreatic cancer Beatn
_ before last year’s tour could get
underway, and at times one can’t help
_ but think that he took most of the Her
- talent-scouting smarts with him. There
_ is good news, though: even if you.
_ missed the first 70 minutes, the be
_ Temaining show would still be worth — sc
the price of admission.
It’s not that the films on display this
year are bad, per se. But with few
exceptions, they feel like lacklustre
experiments in technique, with no soul
— dare I say animus? — to make them
_ truly come alive, At times I was
reminded of those late-19th century
_ filmstrips in which naked people
walked back and forth, up and down
stairs, and every now and then flung a
javelin at somebody, Interesting
studies in motion, to be sure, but after
a while you want something more: a
story, say, or a hint of personality.
"Some of the lazier offenders in this
regard are the “pet” cartoons.
_ Watching Three After Thoughts,
Sophie, and Fluffy (whose Tinker-Toy
anatomy is anything but) is like
- watching someone else’s home
seven minutes, which is fine if you like
his stuff (and I do), but those who reli
haven't acquired a taste for his i
minimalistic approach will likely be
bored.
Some of the choicest eision: a
no more than one or two minutes.
Kebabaluba is a maddeningly brief
introduction toa Turkish donair vendor;
no sooner have we warmed up to him
than the tale ends. Passages builds on
the shifting-scenery gimmick by ripping
its paper background into drifting Arctic
floes that the hand-drawn characters
must navigate. And then there’s Pacifier.
Sharp stuff. And, along with the
delightful Gagarin (in which a i
Plympton riffs on his Nose Hair for 5
June 1996
if, and sone Rube Gol d berg
devices (check out the porridge : cannon
and their bungee-jumping window-
washing service). And just to make
things even more interesting, Wallace
may have found the love of his life in
Wendolene Ramsbottom. But the
towering, villainous bulldog is just a tad
obvious, and emblematic of this
Festival’s misguided emphasis on
mechanics over soul. Park got
caterpillar tries to fly before its time), a eyed bl
welcome sien | that a animators in the
A yingl mita
yingl hot epes a
tam
The Celluloid Closet of Yiddish film
by B.C. Allen
Recently I was the victim of one of
those Artsy Fartsy “Let’s dissect a film,
see how it makes us feel and then go for
Latte Mochas and decaf Americanos.”
Thanks Rachel!
To be honest, I don’t know the first
thing about Yiddish film, especially any
gay and lesbian subtext in it. I wasn’t
sure what to expect, maybe some
hidden meaning in that which we
see everyday. Let’s face it, almost
everyone has seen a film or two
and how many see it for what it
is really worth? There is always
something hiding, like the
erection in Disney’s Aladdin.
And who could miss the lusty
puppet love between Bert and
Ernie?
The focus for the evening was
on various Yiddish films, such as
Yidl Mit Fidl, Amerikaner
Shadkhn and Der Vilner Shtot-
Khazn. Both Yidl Mit Fidl and
Der Vilner Shtot-Khazn were
filmed entirely in Yiddish in
Eastern Europe, so were a bit
more difficult to follow.
Amerikaner Shadkhn(American
Matchmaker) was filmed in New
York and is well known for its
music.
Being unfamiliar with the
Yiddish culture, I can only trust
what Eve Sicular (researcher and
historian) presented about the films.
Unfortunately Eve Sicular has left
Vancouver as has her presentation.
However, if you hear of any events of
this sort, I encourage you to give it a
chance—you might learn something.
Discovered on
the Web
“TRASH THE TR
CONSPIRAC) (
or knock ed-off? ©
a _ graphic from the comedy central website
4
: by Peter T. Chattaway
It’s not the sort of thing an animation n
_ aficianado wants to admit, but if you p
arrived’about 70 minutes late for the
Ridge 7 Theawe, , Friday
_ latest offering from the Spike & Mike he
franchise, you wouldn't have missed
_ awhole lot. This is the first Festival to
_ be compiled without any input from
_ Mike, who died of pancreatic cancer Beatn
_ before last year’s tour could get
underway, and at times one can’t help
_ but think that he took most of the Her
- talent-scouting smarts with him. There
_ is good news, though: even if you.
_ missed the first 70 minutes, the be
_ Temaining show would still be worth — sc
the price of admission.
It’s not that the films on display this
year are bad, per se. But with few
exceptions, they feel like lacklustre
experiments in technique, with no soul
— dare I say animus? — to make them
_ truly come alive, At times I was
reminded of those late-19th century
_ filmstrips in which naked people
walked back and forth, up and down
stairs, and every now and then flung a
javelin at somebody, Interesting
studies in motion, to be sure, but after
a while you want something more: a
story, say, or a hint of personality.
"Some of the lazier offenders in this
regard are the “pet” cartoons.
_ Watching Three After Thoughts,
Sophie, and Fluffy (whose Tinker-Toy
anatomy is anything but) is like
- watching someone else’s home
seven minutes, which is fine if you like
his stuff (and I do), but those who reli
haven't acquired a taste for his i
minimalistic approach will likely be
bored.
Some of the choicest eision: a
no more than one or two minutes.
Kebabaluba is a maddeningly brief
introduction toa Turkish donair vendor;
no sooner have we warmed up to him
than the tale ends. Passages builds on
the shifting-scenery gimmick by ripping
its paper background into drifting Arctic
floes that the hand-drawn characters
must navigate. And then there’s Pacifier.
Sharp stuff. And, along with the
delightful Gagarin (in which a i
Plympton riffs on his Nose Hair for 5
June 1996
if, and sone Rube Gol d berg
devices (check out the porridge : cannon
and their bungee-jumping window-
washing service). And just to make
things even more interesting, Wallace
may have found the love of his life in
Wendolene Ramsbottom. But the
towering, villainous bulldog is just a tad
obvious, and emblematic of this
Festival’s misguided emphasis on
mechanics over soul. Park got
caterpillar tries to fly before its time), a eyed bl
welcome sien | that a animators in the
A yingl mita
yingl hot epes a
tam
The Celluloid Closet of Yiddish film
by B.C. Allen
Recently I was the victim of one of
those Artsy Fartsy “Let’s dissect a film,
see how it makes us feel and then go for
Latte Mochas and decaf Americanos.”
Thanks Rachel!
To be honest, I don’t know the first
thing about Yiddish film, especially any
gay and lesbian subtext in it. I wasn’t
sure what to expect, maybe some
hidden meaning in that which we
see everyday. Let’s face it, almost
everyone has seen a film or two
and how many see it for what it
is really worth? There is always
something hiding, like the
erection in Disney’s Aladdin.
And who could miss the lusty
puppet love between Bert and
Ernie?
The focus for the evening was
on various Yiddish films, such as
Yidl Mit Fidl, Amerikaner
Shadkhn and Der Vilner Shtot-
Khazn. Both Yidl Mit Fidl and
Der Vilner Shtot-Khazn were
filmed entirely in Yiddish in
Eastern Europe, so were a bit
more difficult to follow.
Amerikaner Shadkhn(American
Matchmaker) was filmed in New
York and is well known for its
music.
Being unfamiliar with the
Yiddish culture, I can only trust
what Eve Sicular (researcher and
historian) presented about the films.
Unfortunately Eve Sicular has left
Vancouver as has her presentation.
However, if you hear of any events of
this sort, I encourage you to give it a
chance—you might learn something.
Discovered on
the Web
“TRASH THE TR
CONSPIRAC) (
or knock ed-off? ©
a _ graphic from the comedy central website
4
: by Peter T. Chattaway
It’s not the sort of thing an animation n
_ aficianado wants to admit, but if you p
arrived’about 70 minutes late for the
Ridge 7 Theawe, , Friday
_ latest offering from the Spike & Mike he
franchise, you wouldn't have missed
_ awhole lot. This is the first Festival to
_ be compiled without any input from
_ Mike, who died of pancreatic cancer Beatn
_ before last year’s tour could get
underway, and at times one can’t help
_ but think that he took most of the Her
- talent-scouting smarts with him. There
_ is good news, though: even if you.
_ missed the first 70 minutes, the be
_ Temaining show would still be worth — sc
the price of admission.
It’s not that the films on display this
year are bad, per se. But with few
exceptions, they feel like lacklustre
experiments in technique, with no soul
— dare I say animus? — to make them
_ truly come alive, At times I was
reminded of those late-19th century
_ filmstrips in which naked people
walked back and forth, up and down
stairs, and every now and then flung a
javelin at somebody, Interesting
studies in motion, to be sure, but after
a while you want something more: a
story, say, or a hint of personality.
"Some of the lazier offenders in this
regard are the “pet” cartoons.
_ Watching Three After Thoughts,
Sophie, and Fluffy (whose Tinker-Toy
anatomy is anything but) is like
- watching someone else’s home
seven minutes, which is fine if you like
his stuff (and I do), but those who reli
haven't acquired a taste for his i
minimalistic approach will likely be
bored.
Some of the choicest eision: a
no more than one or two minutes.
Kebabaluba is a maddeningly brief
introduction toa Turkish donair vendor;
no sooner have we warmed up to him
than the tale ends. Passages builds on
the shifting-scenery gimmick by ripping
its paper background into drifting Arctic
floes that the hand-drawn characters
must navigate. And then there’s Pacifier.
Sharp stuff. And, along with the
delightful Gagarin (in which a i
Plympton riffs on his Nose Hair for 5
June 1996
if, and sone Rube Gol d berg
devices (check out the porridge : cannon
and their bungee-jumping window-
washing service). And just to make
things even more interesting, Wallace
may have found the love of his life in
Wendolene Ramsbottom. But the
towering, villainous bulldog is just a tad
obvious, and emblematic of this
Festival’s misguided emphasis on
mechanics over soul. Park got
caterpillar tries to fly before its time), a eyed bl
welcome sien | that a animators in the
A yingl mita
yingl hot epes a
tam
The Celluloid Closet of Yiddish film
by B.C. Allen
Recently I was the victim of one of
those Artsy Fartsy “Let’s dissect a film,
see how it makes us feel and then go for
Latte Mochas and decaf Americanos.”
Thanks Rachel!
To be honest, I don’t know the first
thing about Yiddish film, especially any
gay and lesbian subtext in it. I wasn’t
sure what to expect, maybe some
hidden meaning in that which we
see everyday. Let’s face it, almost
everyone has seen a film or two
and how many see it for what it
is really worth? There is always
something hiding, like the
erection in Disney’s Aladdin.
And who could miss the lusty
puppet love between Bert and
Ernie?
The focus for the evening was
on various Yiddish films, such as
Yidl Mit Fidl, Amerikaner
Shadkhn and Der Vilner Shtot-
Khazn. Both Yidl Mit Fidl and
Der Vilner Shtot-Khazn were
filmed entirely in Yiddish in
Eastern Europe, so were a bit
more difficult to follow.
Amerikaner Shadkhn(American
Matchmaker) was filmed in New
York and is well known for its
music.
Being unfamiliar with the
Yiddish culture, I can only trust
what Eve Sicular (researcher and
historian) presented about the films.
Unfortunately Eve Sicular has left
Vancouver as has her presentation.
However, if you hear of any events of
this sort, I encourage you to give it a
chance—you might learn something.
Discovered on
the Web
“TRASH THE TR
CONSPIRAC) (
or knock ed-off? ©
a _ graphic from the comedy central website
4