{"id":1519,"date":"2011-08-22T14:06:51","date_gmt":"2011-08-22T14:06:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.skwigly.co.uk\/?p=1519"},"modified":"2022-03-19T20:47:35","modified_gmt":"2022-03-19T20:47:35","slug":"adam-elliot-interview","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.skwigly.co.uk\/adam-elliot-interview\/","title":{"rendered":"A Conversation With Adam Elliot"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Adam Elliot<\/p><\/div>\n

Adam Elliot is an important animator \u2013 a descriptive term rarely attributed honestly to practitioners of a medium whose primary function is, more often than not, frivolous entertainment. We can certainly be amused, moved, even angered by animation; we can be awed by its spectacle and its ability to communicate concepts which live action and other means of storytelling simply cannot. Ultimately though, like any form of artistic expression, it is ephemeral, its appeal just as bound by shifting cultural attitudes and political climates. As such, there is an inevitably smaller percentage of animators whose work has a lasting value, either through technical advancement or social messages. While Adam Elliot\u2019s work, on an aesthetic level, is purposefully entrenched in a traditional and pleasingly nostalgic era of claymation, as a storyteller he undoubtedly falls into the latter category.<\/p>\n

The director of four independent shorts – including the 2003 Academy Award winning \u2018Harvie Krumpet\u2019 – and his first full-length feature ‘Mary & Max’ in 2009, what has so far tied all his work together is an underlying theme of living with affliction. As put forth by his creative partner and former producer, Melanie Coombs, in the latter film\u2019s EPK \u201cI see the pattern in all of Adam\u2019s work is about accepting difference. That we all look for acceptance and love is probably a universal truth; that we are all different, is another.\u201d<\/p>\n

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Image courtesy of Adam Elliot Pictures<\/p><\/div>\n

Born in Australia and a long-time resident of Melbourne, his films also have a shared sense of national identity, in a manner similar to the distinctly British politeness of \u2018Wallace & Gromit\u2019 and the celebration of American culture and family values that was \u2018The Simpsons\u2019 in its heyday. It\u2019s a quality that, alongside the bold choices of topics covered in his work, has made Adam such an important figure in contemporary Australian film and culture.<\/p>\n

While the world of mainstream, Hollywood animation is awash with lavishly produced, high-end CGI and visual effects, the world of stop-motion has become a strangely niche one. Though still a long way from being considered antiquated, the use of hand-sculpted\/crafted puppets is considered a rarity within contemporary cinema. Its mainstream outings such as Henry Selick\u2019s recent \u2018Coraline\u2019 (2009) and Peter Lord\u2019s upcoming \u2018Pirates! Band of Misfits\u2019 (2012) are notable for being in scant company. In some respects it is a contributor to preserving the charm and uniqueness of the medium, and a testament to directors such as Nick Park, the aforementioned Selick and Lord – and, on the independent end of the spectrum, Adam Elliot himself – that it has been kept alive. What sets Adam\u2019s work apart though is the juxtaposition of a look associated mainly with children\u2019s animation against storylines and dialogue that are for a distinctly adult audience.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve just tried to tell stories that I\u2019d want to hear, that are a little bit more edgy, the stories that push boundaries. You can do that with kids\u2019 animation, for sure, but I don\u2019t ever think about the audience too much. I just sit down and write stories that would appeal to me and then<\/em> worry about who my demographic is. I\u2019m not just the only person out there, which is great – films that have come out recently like \u2018Waltz With Bashir\u2019 and \u2018Persepolis\u2019, that type of animation is definitely evolving and shifting gear and there is more and more \u2018adult\u2019 animation. Although I didn\u2019t use that term until recently, because if I did then most people would think I was doing films like \u2018Fritz The Cat\u2019, or some sort of clay pornography! Whereas now people are understanding that animation is a preference, it\u2019s like a pencil or a paintbrush, it\u2019s just a vehicle for telling a story, so why has it traditionally been geared towards children? I blame Disney for that! We\u2019ve definitely progressed since the days of \u2018The Lion King\u2019 and \u2018Aladdin\u2019, but when your budget is a hundred and seventy million dollars or somewhere around there, you can push the boundaries a little<\/em> bit but you have to be pretty safe. That\u2019s a lot <\/em>of money.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m very thankful and grateful to companies like Aardman who\u2019ve brought claymation to the masses, but I think I\u2019d still be a stop-motion animator regardless of whether \u2018Wallace & Gromit\u2019 were invented. I can only talk from my personal experience, I suppose, but I do stop-motion animation for purely selfish reasons. I\u2019m friends with Nick Park and Peter Lord and it\u2019s good to catch up with them, but really the only thing we have in common is plasticine. I get very frustrated sitting in front of a computer screen, I\u2019d much rather be chopping up wood or painting and getting my hands dirty, making all these bits and pieces for the films. I love the tactile nature of stop-motion, it\u2019s just a personal choice.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alongside his affinity for plasticine animation, a consistency in Adam\u2019s work since his beginnings as a student animator has been the casual incorporation of subject matter that mainstream television and cinema (even, to a large extent, the world of independent film) feels compelled to handle with kid gloves. Though no doubt well intentioned, this hypersensitivity toward the depiction of important social impairments, physical disabilities and mental illnesses has in many respects only served to fuel the sense of alienation that accompanies them. Adam Elliot\u2019s storytelling, by contrast, indulges a far healthier and more socially aware impulse to bring these issues out into the open. Said issues span birth defects, Tourette\u2019s syndrome, Asperger\u2019s syndrome, cerebral palsy, alcoholism, depression and all manner of limitations of social and cognitive development. The undeniably tragic inherences of these afflictions are married with the far more taboo notion of their comedic mileage. Rather than cheapening or trivialising the plight of each character, this gallows humour instead rounds out and humanises all of them, making their stories all the more poignant.<\/p>\n

\u201cI always try to write funny films, unfortunately I can\u2019t help myself – they end up being quite tragic! No one has a perfectly happy life or a completely miserable one, I think it\u2019s all shades of light and dark. Comedy-tragedies have been around for centuries, and to tell stories which are authentic, empathetic and relatable to an audience you can\u2019t just do gags, you have to dig deeper. I try to create very authentic characters – which is ironic, \u2018cause they\u2019re plasticine\u00a0 – and while my aim is, of course, to make the audience laugh, I really<\/em> feel like I\u2019ve achieved something if I\u2019ve caused them to cry. I know that\u2019s a strange ambition, to upset your audience, but I don\u2019t like them leaving the cinema indifferent or apathetic. I really want them to have experienced something<\/em> – even if they\u2019ve just laughed, at least I\u2019ve pushed some<\/em> buttons. I think \u2018Harvie Krumpet\u2019 opened the doors and really enlightened a lot of people, especially in my own country, as to what animation can be.\u201d<\/p>\n