Features of animated documentary

Animated documentaries have gained legitimacy as a unique medium for social commentary, with their potential to engage audiences on issues of equality, diversity, and social injustice. It sometimes referred to as “docu-animation,” use animation techniques to present non-fiction narratives, often addressing real-world issues, historical events, or personal stories. The legitimacy of this genre is debated within the fields of documentary studies, animation studies, and media theory. By blending animation with documentary techniques, these works offer a powerful way to depict complex and often painful subjects, while also overcoming limitations of traditional film. The use of animation allows for symbolic abstraction and metaphor, helping convey emotionally charged or difficult narratives in ways that resonate more deeply with viewers.

Animated Documentary Flee (2021)

Opinions from scholars

A primary concern in discussions of animated documentary is the tension between animation’s association with fictional storytelling and its use to represent non-fictional or documentary subjects. Critics such as Bill Nichols(2024) in Introduction to Documentary argues that documentaries traditionally emphasize “the real” or the “truthful” representation of reality, which conflicts with animation’s inherent ability to distort and exaggerate. However, scholars like Giannalberto Bendazzi (2015) have pointed out that animation is a tool, not a genre, and its use in non-fiction forms can be as legitimate as any other medium.

Animated Documentary The Red Turtle (2016)

How do the two combine organically?

Due to the distinct characteristics of documentary and animation, combining the two can give rise to points of contention. For instance, there is an undeniable disparity in how audiences perceive animation versus documentary. Animation has historically been associated with fictional and imaginary worlds, primarily due to its prevalent use in entertaining cartoons and movies. This association leads viewers to regard animation as a medium unrestricted by reality, which may raise doubts about its reliability in documentary situations where factual accuracy is crucial. In contrast, documentaries are expected to follow the principles of realism and to present events, people or phenomena truthfully. Viewers often come to documentaries with an expectation of exposure to factual content and understanding the real world, and therefore prioritize the authenticity of what is shown.

But that doesn’t mean the two can’t be properly combined in organic ways, and animated documentaries challenge the binary between fact and fiction by harnessing the strengths of animation (such as visual abstraction, metaphor, and imagination) to present facts that are based on experience, emotion, or abstraction. For example, animation can effectively show subjective experiences, inner thoughts, or historical events that are not visually recorded, thus expanding the scope of documentary storytelling.

To understand the role of animation in documentaries requires a broader understanding of authenticity and realism in media. As audiences increasingly realize that authenticity in documentaries can be conveyed through multiple levels of interpretation, rather than strictly following traditional visual records, acceptance of animated documentaries is also increasing.

Case study: The Garden of Words

“The Garden of Words” (2013), directed by Makoto Shinkai, serves as a poignant example of how animated works can explore themes of equality, diversity, and social injustice. This film, while primarily a romantic drama, delves into the complexities of social isolation and mental health against the backdrop of Japan’s societal expectations. The narrative centers on two contrasting characters: Takao, a high school student pursuing his dream of shoemaking, and Yukino, an older woman dealing with emotional struggles and societal pressures. Their relationship challenges conventional norms related to age and gender roles, emphasizing the importance of empathy and understanding in bridging generational divides. The lush garden setting symbolizes a safe space where the characters confront their inner turmoil, highlighting the barriers that prevent individuals from expressing their true selves. By addressing the stigma surrounding mental health and critiquing rigid societal structures, “The Garden of Words” advocates for the need for supportive environments that embrace diversity and inclusivity. Through its rich visual storytelling, the film opens up important conversations about these often-overlooked issues, making them accessible to a broader audience and fostering a greater understanding of the nuances of social injustice.

“The Garden of Words” (2013)

Reference

Introduction to Documentary, Fourth Edition. (2024). [online] Available at: https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=Jm4NEQAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PT7&dq=Bill+Nichols&ots=XG4IcWiO_Y&sig=rpqiLRprRFy5B9_3ZOvj1oI9vSA#v=onepage&q=Bill%20Nichols&f=false [Accessed 11 Nov. 2024].

Giannalberto Bendazzi (2015). Animation: A World History. Routledge eBooks. Informa. doi:https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315720746.

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What is Auteur Theory —- Auteur Theory in Traditional Film Industry

Auteur theory is a concept in film criticism that views the director as the primary creative force or “author” of a film. Developed by French film critics in the 1940s and 1950s, especially those associated with the magazine Cahiers du Cinéma, and later popularized by American critics like Andrew Sarris, auteur theory argues that a director’s personal vision, style, and thematic preoccupations are imprinted on their films, making them uniquely recognizable, similar to a signature on a work of art.

According to auteur theory, directors with strong creative identities influence nearly every aspect of the film—from the script to the cinematography, acting, and editing—imprinting their unique style and thematic concerns across their body of work. This allows audiences and critics to identify patterns, motifs, or techniques that distinguish one director’s films from another’s. Directors like Alfred Hitchcock, Jean-Luc Godard, Akira Kurosawa, and Ingmar Bergman are often considered auteurs because their films show distinctive visual styles and recurrent themes, such as suspense, existentialism, and the human psyche.

Auteur theory stems largely from Astruk’s interpretation of the camera-stylo concept, which states that the director, who oversees all audio and visual elements of a film, should be considered the “author” of the film more than the screenwriter. In other words, the basic visual elements in the film, such as camera placement, composition, lighting, and scene length, rather than the plot, convey the theme of the film. Proponents of auteur theory also argue that the most successful films will bear the director’s personal stamp unquestionably (Augustyn, 2017).

Auteur theory in Animation

In auteur theory, the director would still be considered the primary “author” or guiding force of an animated film, but the process is inherently more collaborative than in live-action film, so identifying a single person as the auteur can be more complex. In animated films, a variety of creatives — animators, storyboard artists, designers, voice actors, and others — contribute heavily to the visual and emotional impact of the film. Despite this, according to auteur theory, the director has the greatest influence over the film’s finished effect because they set the creative vision, guide the style and tone, and make key decisions that unify the production.

In animation, the role of the director often resembles that of a conductor who leads a large, multifaceted team to achieve a coherent artistic vision. For example, directors like Hayao Miyazaki at Studio Ghibli or Brad Bird at Pixar are often seen as auteurs, largely because they impose a distinct visual and thematic style across their films. Miyazaki, for instance, is known for his focus on environmental themes, strong young female characters, and richly detailed, fantastical worlds — traits consistently visible in his works, from My Neighbor Totoro to Spirited Away. This consistency across different projects allows viewers to identify his unique “authorial stamp.”

My Neighbor Totoro by Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli’s

In many animated films, however, other individuals — especially lead animators, character designers, or story artists — have a significant impact on the finished product. For instance, Glen Keane’s animation style shaped Disney characters like Ariel from The Little Mermaid and the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, giving these characters their recognizable emotional depth and physical expressiveness. Similarly, Pixar’s Toy Story would not have had its distinctive look and feel without the contributions of John Lasseter, who directed it, but also of key animators and designers who developed its unique CGI aesthetic.

Toy Story by Pixar Studio

In large animation studios, a particular studio itself sometimes emerges as the auteur-like presence. Pixar, for instance, has a characteristic look and storytelling approach that persists across many films, regardless of the individual director. This is also true of Studio Ghibli, where Miyazaki’s influence shapes not only his own films but those of his colleagues and successors, creating a cohesive “studio auteurship.”

Conclusion

In animated films, according to author theory, the director is the primary influence, but the collaborative nature of animation means that other creative leaders have a significant influence on the final look and feel of the film. The director is the controller of the finished product, but the output of the animation is not the result of the director alone. This often results in a fusion that combines the director’s vision with the studio’s aesthetics and the contributions of other key creatives, resulting in a product that is both coordinated and collaborative.

Reference

Augustyn, A. (2017). Auteur Theory. In: Encyclopædia Britannica. [online] Available at: https://www.britannica.com/art/auteur-theory.

The Clock (2010) by Christian Marclay is an experimental art film and video installation that spans 24 hours, constructed entirely from thousands of film and television clips showing clocks or references to specific times. Each clip corresponds to the actual time of day, so if you’re watching it at, say, 3:15 PM, you’ll see scenes showing 3:15. This approach turns The Clock into a functioning timepiece, as well as a meditative and immersive viewing experience.

The Clock at White Cube‘s London gallery in 2010. The work garnered critical praise, winning the Golden Lion at the 2011 Venice Biennale. Its six editions were purchased by major museums, allowing it to attract a widespread following(Alchetron.com, 2017).

Christian Marclay, The Clock, 2010, single-channel video installation, duration: 24 hours, © the artist. Photo © White Cube (Ben Westoby)

•       Categorization: 

he Clock sits at the intersection of experimental film and video art. Its background is rooted in cinematic history, and it uses scenes from various films and TV shows spanning decades, genres, and nationalities. This work lacks a traditional narrative and instead builds meaning through montage and real-time synchronization.

Christine Markley has spent years meticulously piecing together footage from various movies and TV shows, using every minute of the 24 hours a day. He and his editorial team combed through countless sources for standout timepieces, watches, or scenes that mentioned a specific time. The result is a seamless, experimental image of the passage of time. Although the film itself does not output any emotional color to the audience, nor does it have a narrative structure, the film and the audience’s reaction when watching the movie together constitute a unique emotional response.

The film reveals its plot mainly by cutting scenes. A shot showing time is followed by a reaction shot containing the character’s emotional response, usually anxiety, fear, or boredom. Pettit noted that repetitive responses without context “give a very eerie feeling.” This sequence of shots draws viewers into the Clock’s narrative, and they often experience a transcendent, hypnotic effect.

•       Form and Function:

Marclay’s objective is to represent time as a continuous, lived experience while simultaneously creating an artwork that mirrors real-time progression. The synchronization of film clips to real-world time allows The Clock to act as a functioning timepiece, which fundamentally redefines the viewer’s relationship to the film.

By using this format, Marclay confronts the limitations of traditional narrative cinema—where scenes are typically structured to advance a story—and instead invites viewers to experience a sense of “being in time.” Watching The Clock is less about following a story and more about immersing oneself in an ongoing flow of temporal moments, allowing viewers to reflect on the nature of time and the ways it dictates structure in both life and film.

•       Process:

The process behind The Clock is deeply intricate and labor-intensive, involving meticulous editing of thousands of film clips gathered from a wide variety of sources. The selection and synchronization of each clip to its corresponding minute of the day reflect Marclay’s dedication to detail and his inventive approach to video art. The editing process itself becomes a commentary on time, as each transition reinforces the continuity of the 24-hour cycle.

The technique of using found footage in this way also makes the medium an essential part of the message. Marclay’s approach comments on the universality of time and cinema, showcasing how different moments in popular culture can become part of a larger mosaic. The use of film as raw material allows the viewer to reflect on the shared cultural experience of cinema, questioning the nature of originality, memory, and temporality in art.

•       Formal Elements:

Marclay is innovative in many aspects of this project, such as Space and Composition, Light and Color, Timing, Pacing, and Transitions.

In terms of Space and Composition, Marclay uses clips that are composed differently—some feature close-ups of clocks, while others include wide shots with clocks subtly in the background. This variation in composition encourages viewers to focus on different aspects of each scene, sometimes centering the clock and sometimes letting it blend with the surrounding context. When it comes to Light and Color, since clips are drawn from various films, light and color shift constantly, reflecting the tones and moods of the source material. Marclay lets this diversity remain intact, allowing the work to span cinematic styles without imposing a unifying color scheme or lighting design, reinforcing the sense of eclectic, multifaceted time. And the Timing and Transitions techniques used in this project should not be ignored as well. The pacing is entirely dictated by the 24-hour structure, meaning that clips change at regular intervals. The constant flow of scenes creates a hypnotic rhythm, while maintaining the film’s alignment with real-time provides a grounding, almost meditative effect. Transitions between genres and tones are seamless, as each clip melds into the next in an uninterrupted progression. It is precisely through his unique editing ideas that Marclay provides the audience with a subtle viewing experience(EA Douglas, 2019).

Reference

Alchetron.com. (2017). The Clock (2010 film) – Alchetron, The Free Social Encyclopedia. [online] Available at: https://alchetron.com/The-Clock-(2010-film) [Accessed 11 Nov. 2024].

EA Douglas (2019). Early Riser: A Perspective on Marclay’s The Clock | Femme Art Review. [online] Femme Art Review. Available at: https://femmeartreview.com/2019/07/29/early-riser-a-perspective-of-marclays-the-clock/ [Accessed 11 Nov. 2024].

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