THOSE AGGRIVATIN' ANIMATIONS by Hi Sibley You go to the Motion Picture theater to see an animated cartoon, and you chuckle over the absurd antics of the pen-and-ink screen comedian. He scampers about with his funny, nervous little steps, putting over some of the most impossible stunts with case and dispatch. And you are vastly amused. Chuckle, chuckle! But- If you could step into the studio Where this comical little cuss is created, the chuckles would be conspicuous by their absence. You would hear grunts instead�yes, and a film-tinker's damn or two�for animated artists arc only human, and, being so, learn to animate their vocabulary as well as their work. At least that was my experience the first few weeks at this trying branch of Motion Picture art. In the beginning I had some very expansive ideas on the subject: I was going to crack the whip, and my animated charges were going to respond to my every whim, and in a mighty spry fashion, too. But, after laboriously turning out two scenarios and seeing them projected on the screen�presto! I discovered at once that ani-mated characters were about as un-disciplined as a crew of Mexican bandits. They persisted in doing just what I hadn't intended them to do. For instance, there was my debonair man-about-town. His one assignment was to saunter jauntily across the screen�that was all. I took much pride in that club-man, and worked out his leg-action with utmost care; but when the perverse individual was put thru his screen paces, he humped across with a gait like a one-legged man that had recently been run over by a brewery truck. It required a week of the most patient drilling to get him to perform in even an acceptable manner. And I had a lady too�a very nice Lady, I thought. for I had surrounded her with every refining influence, and had given her to understand that she was to appear before very persnickety audiences. And she did very nicely, too, for that matter. until I gave her the cue to untie her dainty apron-strings. But she did not untie her dainty apron-strings; she undaintily scratched her back, and with a vigor that was shocking. We had to operate On that part of the film. Not only were these developments somewhat of a jolt, but I found the work very tedious and requiring constant ap-plication. It took days to work out a single bit of action. In particular. there was the Lady and the Goat. Among other things. the Lady was supposed to drag the Goat into the kitchen. I sent her out after Bill on Monday, and it was Thursday before she got him into the center of the room. By that time I seas so fed up on gentle ladies and gentleman-goats that I tipped Bill the wink and had him dispose of the Lady thru the win-dow. And it was done in a hurry, too. \Viten shown on the screen. you couldn't tell what had happened. It was a case of "I see you and now 1 dont see you!" Subsvpiently, of course, Bill's action was slowed down, so that one could get at least some idea of the general direction the flying Lady pursued. The foregoing, however, are only some of the difficulties of an inexperienced amateur. The action of the first-class animated cartoons proceeds so smoothly that the spectator little realizes the pro-digious amount of work required to turn one out. The technical side, therefore. is very interesting. In describing the sev-eral methods of producing an animated cartoon, I will not spill any trade secrets. Briefly. in every for of film there are sixteen "frames."- or exposures. in a sixty-foot scenario there world be ap-proximately a thousand frames�nine hundred and sixty, to be exact. At first sight one might suppose that the animating artist would have to draw that many separate cartoons for the sixty feet of film, which, when projected on the screen, would run just one minute, for it requires only one second for a foot of film to pass thru the projector. A thousand cartoons for a one-minute entertainment would be entirely out of the question, and consequently there arc many ways to get around that. In the first place, rarely more than eight drawings are used per foot of film calling for the smoothest of action, for two exposures arc taken of each drawing. Note the strip of film with the cat. I have shown Tabby here in eight succes-sive positions preparing to spring. but, on the actual film, No. 1 frame would appear twice, as would No. 2 and the others. Thus the eight drawings would CODADDIC one foot of film. And even at that the somnolent Tabby would wake up and prepare to spring all in the space of a second. In real life this would not be unusual, for there is plenty of zip in a black cat, as thole who have trod on the tail of sleeping Tabbies will testify: hilt for screen purposes it is better to have action slow enough to follow with the eyes. Then "extremes"�those positions at the beginning or ending of action�can be held for several feet of film. For instance, here the scene opens on Tabby sleeping peacefully, and the photographer would allow her an eight- or ten-foot nap. And again, when Tabby becomes quiescent, pausing to look out at the audience and blink (a stock stunt for all intimated characters), she might hold the pose for several womb. Very frequently action is repeated over and over: a taxicab speeding along before a "tlying. background" can be run indefinitely with a comparatively small number of drawings: likewise two men sawing a log, or a little girl swinging, and so on. All this adds up footage rapidly. Where stock characters are used in a weekly series of animated cartoons, it is customary to employ "cut-onts"�literally paper dolls. A set of figures may be drawn and cut from bristol board. giving walking action to the right, another set to the left. and sets for several other actions. These arc filed away and used in subsequent scenarios. The eight cut-outs of the little girl illustrate a com-plete step in a running action. To distinguish the left leg from the right, I have put a double band on her stocking. This will enable you to follow the action of that leg. In photographing her, a fixed background is used, and site enters at the left. The first "paper doll" is placed on this background and given two frames or exposures; then the second "paper doll" is placed so that the left foot is in the exact position of the first, and the first figure taken away. Two more exposures on this, and so on with the successive figures, until the little .girl reaches the position desired. Fol-lowing from this point there may be n set of "cot-outs" showing her turning around. or jumping tip and down, or whatever the scenario calls for. In drawing these "cut-outs" there should be as smooth edges as possible, for sharp and thin corners have a tendency to curl tip and make a shadow easily discernible on the screen. Inasmuch as there is a great deal of work involved in working out the action and making these "cut-outs." they are not employed unless there is a great deal of repetition of action. In such cases a saving of time and labor is accomplished by having several hundred of the backgrounds printed on separate sheets of paper and drawing the figures in on these. The clock-tower background illustrates this. The printed tower is in heavy lines. and I have sketched the figure in dotted lines. It is essential, of course, that these printed backgrounds register perfectly. for otherwise they will waver on the screen and detract the spectator's attention from the figure. The scenario calls for a 'minter limb-ing hand-over-hand on a rope. The first sheet of paper is placed in position over a ground glass, under which there is all electric light, and the beginning of the action is drawn. Than the second sheet is placed over this, so the two back-grounds are in perfect alignment. and the successive position is drawn. such as a hand advanced a quarter of an inc I or so, so as to secure another grasp on tl e rope, and so on until the painter reaches the ledge. About thirty drawings would he necessary to bring him to the ledge, making sixty exposures or four seconds to climb up the rope. This would be rather agile for painters as we know them; but there is more humor in a brisk action in this case than in a leisurely one. Some of my first backgrounds caused inc much distress, for I did not leave a clear space for the action, and it was necessary to paint out the lines of the printed background with China white wherever the lines interfered with the figures. The drawing with the scales illustrates this. The scene with the log and the principal parts of a pup is a more properly designed backgrmindl for here there is unobstructed space for two sawyers to worry that log. The dog, of course, remains fixed in the main pa t, leaving his more expressive accessories �tail and head�to be drawn in and to wag and twist respectively. Here is an example of an action that can be re-peated indefinitely�eight drawings for the sawyers and the wag and twist. There is a vast difference between newspaper cartooning and fihn cartoon-ing. In the latter the lines must be very heavy and very definite, and there can be little or no shading in the animated parts, for if each shade-line is not re-peated faithfully, a disconcerting blur will result. In my first scenario I took great pains to have MIT drawing as nearly perfect as possible�even erasing minute smudges and spots�but later learnt that where the action is continuous, merely the general outlines need be car-ried out, for each separate drawing is flashed on the screen but an eighth of a wow!. Even the most critical of ob-servers could not detect many flaws in such short space of time. The photographer's work is as impor-tant as the cartoonist's, for it is within his power to make or queer the very best set of cartoons. It is up to him to make the action the most effective and to inject the humor at the proper point. If a figure is jumping over a table, the pho-tographer can make him hurdle over fran-tically or merely float over. And likewise with any other action. In filming the cartoons, the camera is mounted in a vertical position above a table or platform lighted with Cooper-Hewitts. A square is fixed upon this platform directly under the lens, and snugly up against this square the draw-ings are placed for exposure. The camera-director places a drawing. and. with practised eye. knows at once how many exposures should be made for the best results; he announces to the operator above the number of frames to be taken, such as "Two." or "Six," or "Give her four feet." Sometimes a whole day is required to photograph a hundred feet or so of film.