Category: Animation Shot Analysis

The French poster for Walt Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame, directed by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame was one of Disney’s most interesting films made in the late 1990’s. Based on Victor Hugo’s Gothic novel about a hunchbacked servant who resides in the Bell Tower of Notre Dame Cathedral, it was both bold and timid. It had a dark foreboding undertone and featured a genuinely realistic villain but it was also conflicted in its choice of supporting characters, most notably the Gargoyles — formula sidekicks who were more suited to a modern Broadway comedy-musical. That said, there is brilliant animation throughout the film and none more prominent than the work of superstar animator James Baxter who headed up the team responsible for Quasimodo, voiced beautifully by Tom Hulce. It was this film in particular, and the visual acting portrayed here by Baxter, that made me such a huge fan of character animation and his work in particular. It signaled to me what was possible when it came to pure and believable acting in animation.

Sequence Analysis: Quasimodo’s entrance

The sequence of two shots introducing Quasimodo, the Hunchback from Walt Disney’s 1996 The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Animation by Supervising Animator, James Baxter.

Today, we’ll look at the two shots at about half speed in slow-motion so that we can see in acute detail what actually happens in the animation.

Part 1:

As the powerful score and ringing bells carry us from the opening sequence to this shot, we see our hero Quasimodo emerging from the darkness, face hidden. He swings athletically downwards (with the camera trailing him) to the wooden floor. His movements are perfectly in unison with the movement of the swinging bells which never obscure our vision of him.

Notice the central placement of the character as he enters the scene. It signifies his importance as he emerges from obscurity into focus coming out from the direction of the viewer, as if we are him. We are meant to relate to him (and like him), even if we don’t know him quite just yet.

The design and choreography give huge hints to the story about a character usually hidden out of sight, now emerging onto the scene out of darkness and into the light, while carrying with it the corresponding undertones of the religious environment. Baxter’s animation here displays great draftsmanship and rhythmical brilliance as Quasimodo travels with speed, power and control. This is an important indicator of the incredible capabilities of this character which will be revealed in the explosive finale in Act Three.

In the final pose of the shot, Baxter chooses to leave Quasimodo hanging momentarily at screen right, on “thirds” where we can see clearly where he’s looking and where’s he’s about to land. In this case, “X” marks the spot, as displayed prominently in the shadows on the floor. The surrounding pigeons and their reaction will help with continuity into the next shot.

Animating to a moving camera is perhaps the hardest thing to do for a character animator. It requires great knowledge and control of the camera, as well as superb abilities on the body mechanics side — all movements must be smooth, display believable weight and be dynamically appealing. In 2D animation, it requires the kind of drawing/animating abilities that very few animators in the world have (James Baxter and Glen Keane are the only two animators I know of who have delivered such shots with unparalleled consistency). Notice that despite the heroics displayed with the physical action, it’s the opening and closing images of the shot that tell the most about the character and his story. How you start and end shots do much more than simply connect them together.

Part 2:

In this second half of the sequence, Quasimodo is centrally placed, seen from behind, heading towards the light. His landing activates the pigeons, whose scattered arrangement and flight help the shot “bloom” as they give way to our hero who travels towards them. After recoiling from his heavy, yet controlled landing, the drag of his arms and “gam” leg signify part of his physical handicap and deformity. This is further caricatured by his hunched movement which is both awkward and one-sided as he hobbles towards the sunlight.

As Quasimodo transitions from his powerful landing, you see that Baxter uses a strong “croissant” like shape for his key pose, a design that would stay consistent throughout the film. A beautiful mix of straights and curves both contrast and complement each other while the counter-balance of movement between those shapes, which are elegantly-timed, help define the character’s difficulty and heft which encompasses him — clearly a symbol of the burden he carries in his heart and mind.

I love the rhythm of this shot. The walk has a pace that is both unusual and dignifying. The huge drag and overlap of the limbs along with the quickness of their recovery make for a very appealing performance. It’s quite hard to explain, but you can feel his pain and physical confidence at the same time. I only wish that thematically the film would have further explored that in his character — physical deformities accompany with them more than just emotional and mental burden, but physical suffering as well.

In the ending key frames of this shot, we again see the dominant croissant shape that defines Quasimodo. His walk ends in transition to the next cut just like how he entered the scene — in movement and dynamically engaged in the moment. The composition re-affirms the central focus as he moves towards the light; a hero about to emerge towards the possibility of hope and change.

The two shots together looks remarkably simple at first glance (which, by the way, is no longer than eight seconds in total). Yet who could believe that a sequence of two shots that don’t even show the face of the character — never mind show him speaking — can reveal so much about a character and his role in a film. With intelligent design and brilliant execution in acting and animation physics, animators like James Baxter prove that it can be done.

Whenever I see this animation, I look back into my past and remember how I was first introduced to this shot by my old mentor and most gracious teacher, Wayne Gilbert (whom I’ll be forever grateful). He told me to study it in detail and find out why it works. To this day, this shot by James Baxter continues to hold its drawing power, carrying with it all the things we need to excel as animators: weight, rhythm, choreography, acting and appeal.

One of Disney’s all-time classics in terms of pure character animation at its finest, Walt Disney’s Sword In The Stone (1963) is a film I would come back to again and again for inspiration and learning in my entire career as an animator.

Today we’ll look at a favorite shot of mine from the marvelous Frank Thomas*. At first glance, this appears to be a simple scene but it’s actually one loaded with ingenuity, strong staging and elegantly-timed action.

The Shot:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NFrWKrbR7sw

Since film passes by so quickly in real time, it’s easy to miss out on the wonderful thought process and all the juicy details that go into a shot such as this.  Notice, for instance, that (if we listen carefully to the dialogue track) there is no basis for the creative and convoluted business that is Merlin’s battle with his wand and beard. Since the sound effects — like in all animated films — are added afterwards, that contrasting element is created entirely by the artist alone to add fun and personality to the scene that might not have been present in the storyboards or script. From Disney’s Sword In The Stone.

The Breakdown:

In this analysis, I’ll be focusing mostly on the fundamental importance of the key posing, placement of action and directional elements that I believe Frank Thomas had intended. Please enjoy!

In this starting position, Thomas composes Merlin in the midst of thought and action. He’s looking at the younger Arthur (off screen) and is about to turn his attention to the objects lying about the room. The shape (as recomposed in lite blue on the left) is stable yet interesting. The wand, hands and head clearly display his direction of focus.

Here the artist draws your attention with his rhythmical tapping of his wand against the stool and, like a conductor, he begins his work with his orchestra. A nice touch is displayed here when Merlin moves the beard towards his waistline, clearing space for the action to read.

As Merlin shifts upwards, you can see the arms and body curve inward, creating a nice inside-outside maneuver of his hands before ending up in the commanding position which follows. A lessor animator would’ve taken a less interesting path.

Here Merlin stands in command like the wizard he is, holding this position of strength with order and dignity in a perfectly timed pause before the main action. The line of action (in red) is clear and strongly arced as his energy is projected upwards and outwards.

Merlin “pops” into the next action jumping right into the air — a surprising yet colorful move for an old wizard. The dramatic anticipatory movement gives the action and the character a sense of fun and vitality. Note the strong underlying anatomy as the head overlaps the chest cavity giving the pose depth and volume.

Here the pose is curled up small, as Thomas directs your attention towards the open bag. The head and face along with the curvature of the hands and arms, triangulate the action.

As Merlin performs his spell, he unknowingly curls his beard into his wand in a beautiful display of the artist’s control of movement and drawing capability.

The swirling spell action ends in an abrupt and sharp halt, pulling Merlin’s chin and head forward while sending reverberations throughout his entire body and clothing. The sharpness of the action and clear directional forces give the movement power and thrust.

A series of actions and poses play out, as the character zigzags in chaotic fashion and frustration to free himself of the entanglement.

In a final anticipatory pose, Thomas creates a complex yet decidedly clear arrangement, displaying multiple forces at play, each taking turns in different directions of push and pull. He even uses his feet!

The battle with his beard and wand end in a explosive release — one that splays out in a beautiful star-like formation.

After that great expenditure of energy, Merlin is decidedly fatigued — the ordeal proving too much for a wizard his age — as he deflates slowly sagging down towards the stool, the weight of everything bearing downwards along with the force of gravity. All of this is completely consistent with the acting choices that define the character.

After the brief reprieve, the wizard re-composes himself, as he calmly erects his posture back upwards, displaying the fortitude fitting of a commander in charge of his subjects.

A final rotational move back towards screen left — where the action started — completes the scene perfectly. All in all, a great performance created by well-planned acting, strong staging and perfectly executed timing.

In summary, shots like this are great to study and learn from. It should, at the very least, keep us inspired. The appreciation of the works of other artists, especially great ones like Frank Thomas is critical to the understanding of the craft and retaining the humility necessary to stay grounded. We must be always looking, seeing and learning.

“Observe Everything. Communicate Well. Draw, Draw, Draw.” — Frank Thomas

Check out my analyses of other shots, including work by Frank Thomas colleague, Milt Kahl, from 101 Dalmations, and modern animations by my own colleagues, Mike Thurmeier from Robots, and Aaron Hartline from Horton Hears A Who.

(* Note: This shot was incorrectly credited to Milt Kahl in the original posting.)