Spanish animation lurks in the hazy parts of (even the European) animation field. Few pioneers and modern film makers may ring the bell outside of Spain, but most that ever happened in between the early days and today has never been so well documented. Not before this brand new collection of well selected gems through Spanish animation history. Here’s a fix for the problem: del trazo al píxel 3DVD “journey”.
Watching the history of Spanish animation is much like watching the Spanish version of classic Dracula with Bela Lugosi. Not being the polished mainstream- or even underground icons of animation, Spanish history of animated films is like a crude, surreal version of better known history of animated films.
As a counter version to Méliès, there’s Segundo de Chomón, for all the Mickey Mouses, there’s a Spanish styled variant, for Zagreb and Bozzetto there’s equals in the sixties and seventies, just as for Švankmajer, Pixar etc.
Not exactly better or worse, just different. What’s common in these pieces, is the deep black humor, darkness, pessimism and lack of moral or happy endings. Even the soft porn has a morbid end. Uneasy and high quality in general, this collection is very much worth the investment.
The booklet has great liner notes and three discs of short animated films catalog the unknown, yet fine works in roughly three different eras; The black and white era of the pioneers, the outstanding, surreal, psychedelic and bold critics of the sixties onward, until the third type, contemporary greats.
Apart from short films, the collection also offers a full length adult animation and pack of early commercials (like Radio RCA commercial with female nudity just few years before Franco.)
Here’s a few picks from the pack. A lot more would deserve getting an introduction right here, right now. But then again, that’s why there’s the wonderful collection to order anyway, so you could witness it all by yourself eventually. With English subtitles to all shorts and introductions.
Garabatos Valeriano León (1944) dir. Jaume Baguñà
An animated version of a comic magazine from that era. Short jokes are dark and funny even today, although some may feel a bit tacky. Fun is made out of everyday life as well as the end of life, i.e. from social stumbles to execution.
El gallito presumido (Cocky Cock, 1949) dir. Jaume Baguñà
Like titled, cock at the yard is a truly cocky one, enjoying admiration of all the hens. Yet, when too admired, like spoiling the breakfast by serving an egg with a tweet, hen is fired. So, everyday life is kind of paradoxical dance on wire. Cartoon teaches no morals and ends up in no other conclusion but injustice. Oddly enough, the story might stick to the viewer’s mind better just because of that.
El Sombrero (The Hat, 1964) dir. Robert Balser
Surrealism in Spanish cartoon is properly introduced as late as the mid sixties. Although the title, el Sombrero, somewhat sounds like a very Spanish story, the overall style reminds more of Zagreb and Italian masters of animation.
Troubled by a hat, symbolically, a man has a burden he needs to get rid of in order to carry on with his life. He cannot do it himself, and needs faith to drive him back on the course.
The style of animation is strangely rough and smooth at the same time. Robert Palser later directed animation of Yellow Submarine (the well known surreal graphic style of the cult classic is indeed seen already in this one.)
Íncubo Rose (1974) dir. Miquel Esparbé
Again, we’re closer to Zagreb and Bozzatto in graphic style, but the critic of this erotic odyssey of devil goes straight into Spanish politics and history.
Rather simple drawings and amateurish animation perfectly fulfills it’s purpose. After the “’70s horror film titles” the film seems to be a comedic take on one’s journey into losing virginity, but the downsides of the attempts are quite cruel and sad in the end.
Probably the little devil deserves it’s punishment, as he does after all seem to try raping an angel to begin with. Effective and nerving from the first seconds.
La doncella guerrera (The Warrior Maiden, 1975) dir. Julio Taltavull
A ballad with notably Spanish feel to it. Told in Goyan narration, illustrated in vein of Gothic period plates, with amazing graphic style and restrained animation direction by Robert Balser of Yellow Submarine and The Hat fame, that will guarantee the viewer captivation.
The story is an ancient ballad. One of those with a girl dressed as a man to be able to fight as a soldier. For an artsy film, this is an easy, feel good one in comparison to the heavy themes of the era.
Día a día (1977) dir. Pablo Núñez
Another Zagreb-esque film, with imaginative twist. Dull everyday life is spiced with footage from black and white war-, nature-, entertainment- and sports docs. It’s a method of caricaturing the feelings of a boss yelling at you when you’re late for work, or when you get off of work. Lions roaring and birds fleeing.
Basically rather traditional “day of an unlucky everyday soldier” type of story, but very well crafted with mixed media. Funny and identifiable.
La edad del silencio (Age of Silence, 1978) dir. Gabriel Blanco
Nasty and irritating to watch, not to say listen to. An ultimate portray of sustained freedom of speech. Ultimate political work of a protester who would not be silenced no matter how much he’s tortured and literally shut up. Based on Ops’ (El Rote) drawings.
Gastropens II. Mutación tóxica (Toxic Mutation II, 1994) dir. Pablo Llorens
A plasticine animation of it’s time, from the funny digital editing tools to the awake of awereness in toxication of “E numbered” food. A grotesque work that might make the next b-day buffet a bit uneasy.
Additives give birth to a mutant alien in man’s stomach, bite by bite, giving the hero of the day an appear closer to the day of the tentacle. Story wise flawless little gem.
Las partes de mí que te aman son seres vacíos (The Parts of Me that Love You are Empty Beings, 1995) dir. Mercedes Gaspar
Grotesque, sadistically erotic pixallation of a man and a woman having a loose dinner with various body parts being cut off and replaced with something else. Also serves some so-so surrealism and awkward 90s editing. Still somehow captivating.
How to cope with Death (2002) dir. Ignacio Ferreras
Dance macabre. A winged grim reaper comes to take what he thinks is his – the life of an old lady, passed out in front of television. The old lady doesn’t think she’s ready for it yet. One of the early Ferreras’ films with the exact graphic beauty that can be found from his feature length film too.
Encarna (2003) dir. Sam
A housewife has it with all the assholery around her, and starts a brutal revenge campaign. Plasticine turns red and holey. Even TV-Shop-Jesus.
Pablo in the Labyrinth (2004) dir. Juan Pablo Etcheverry
Picasso is lost in a grey rock maze, being hunted by a minotaur. His works are being recreated in plasticine amazingly well, that itself is worth watching, but there’s not really much additional storyline to it.
Cirurgía (Surgeon, 2006) dir. Alberto González Vázquez
A date. Lies to be told in order to get to the woman’s heart. At the same time simple and layered, funny and frank portray of the difficulties in being honest at the first date. Sometimes straightforward simplicity in animation just works.
Alma (2009) dir. Rodrigo Blaas
A little wintertime gothic, horror story of a closed doll shop. Ideal 3D CGI. A semi-classic in it’s genre.
Birdboy (2010) dir. Pedro Rivero, Alberto Vázquez
The dark life in a small town after industrial catastrophe has an outcast Birdboy taking care of a girl who lost her father in the factory explosion. Dark story hints of better, while everything easily seems hopeless. Based on a comic book by the author, this animation adds to the parts mainly left out of the comic.
El ruido del mundo (Noise of the World, 2013) dir. Coke Riobóo
A composer suffers from a condition of hearing all the cruelties and cries of the world, that soon distracts him to compose anything else that the despair of the world. Animated with backlit plasticine on glass, giving it outstanding graphic output.
Canis (2013) dir. Anna Solanas, Marc Riba
The dystopian bestiality of Canis may be heavy to watch. The black and white puppet stop-motion introduces desolate human beings surrounded by death and starvation of mad dogs. Even the only bit of hope is topped with pessimism and injustice, making Canis the ultimate feelbad film of the collection.
World not too far from Eraserhead’s, Le Dernier Combat’s or Suzie Templeton’s Dog etc. makes it absolutely beautiful. The film is riveting on all ends. It’s among the most powerful films made in Spain.
From doodles to pixels – one hundred years of Spanish animation: