Writing For Animation -23

The Story Editor – Why you need one.

            Animated series, for reasons I have already explained, have large numbers of episodes. This means that the process of managing the scriptwriting needs to be handled carefully.  The production will often involve teams of artists in different countries, who need to be supplied with scripts, layouts, and voice tracks in a predictable and constant stream.  This is never easy, especially since most animation series are coproductions, and require editorial approval from several people, often in different countries, and with different ideas.

            It amuses me when I read how certain well-known American writers have never had to rewrite a script, and how every story idea they propose is always accepted.  When we made SuperTed, we worked in a tight-knit creative team, on a production that had only one source of finance, S4C, a broadcaster with a very light editorial touch.  As I writer, I was able to talk through ideas not only with the director, but also with storyboard artists and even animators.  I had a first hand knowledge of what was possible, and what made a good episode.  As part of the production team (I later became the producer) I was able to try a few ideas that departed from the norm.  I was in a privileged position, where every idea I suggested was the result of previous discussion, and was taken seriously, and where rewrites were usually done more because I thought they were needed than because of some outside intervention.  That was thirty years ago, and the world has changed.

            I suspect that those writers (all Americans) who write series after series without any rejections or alterations have never worked on a coproduction.  I also imagine that somewhere along the production process, their scripts have been subject to alterations as directors, producers or storyboard artists have said The way we’ve designed the duck, it could never wear that Viking helmet, or the pink lava from the volcano, it’s not going to look like foam, more like a strawberry gelato.. etc.  The more these practical issues are sorted out at script stage, the smoother the production will run.

            I wrote all the scripts for the first three series of SuperTed but, if we were making the series now, I would insist on using a several different writers.  Writers like to write as many episodes as possible for both financial and egotistical reasons, but different writers will provide more options, and ultimately enrich any series.  Apart from the fact that a variety of different writers with different approaches will keep the series fresh, often the funding for a series will dictate that the writers come from different countries.  To access state funding in Canada, Australia, and elsewhere, you must use creative people from those countries, and often this means writers.

            I know of several live action series where the role of the story, or script editor, is essentially a management role, and does not involve any actual scriptwriting.  Script editors for long-running soaps, for example, are often young, talented, but not very experienced people whose role is to keep the scriptwriters on track.  With a few notable exceptions, this is not the case for animated series.  The production of an animated series should run like a finely honed industrial process.  As I have already mentioned, scripts, storyboards, timings, etc have to be delivered to different places in the world at specific times. Delays in the delivery of scripts can have disastrous consequences for the budget and schedule.

            However much time there is in the schedule for scriptwriting, it never seems enough.  Scripts can be delayed because the writer fails to deliver for some reason but, more likely, can be delayed because a broadcaster is away or ill, and cannot give the necessary approval.  Sometimes, depressed writers will abandon their scripts in the face of contradictory comments and delays in approvals.  This often means that the only way a story editor will hit the deadline is to write, or re-write the script himself.

            I worked as story editor on a very successful series where all the scripts from one of the coproducing countries were so far from the mark, that I had to rewrite them all.  Even if the writers had been prepared to do rewrites (which they weren’t) I took the view that it would take more time and effort, and risk missing the deadline, if I were to engage in the long process of sending comments back and forth, and getting things approved.

            Of course, the real reason you should use a story editor is to make sure that there is a creative consistency throughout the series, that characters stay in character, that the stories do not depart from the ethos of the series, and that the scripts are as exciting as possible.  If the story editor is doing his job, then the series should get richer as it progresses.   Once the first voice recordings have been done, the story editor will have a good idea of what catchphrases, voice patterns, dialect, etc will suit each character.  Characters, idiomatic phrasing, relationship ideas suggested by one writer can be used to enrich another writer’s script. 

            Given enough freedom and responsibility, the job of a story editor can be a joy.  Too often, though, the pressures of conflicting editorial views, budget and schedule pressures, and breakdowns in communication are enough to make any story editor despair.

Next week:  The Story Editor (cont).

Writing For Animation - 22

The Story Bible – Storylines

Any story bible will include some suggestions for storylines, and, ideally, a couple of existing scripts.  It should also include some indication of suitable subject matter for the scripts.

Every animated series is to some extent formulaic, though some are much more formulaic than others.  Scooby Doo, for instance, seems to re-hash the same plot over and over again.  The Simpsons will take you to places you don’t expect, but rarely, if ever, outside the confines of a family sitcom, though not a very traditional one.   Often a series will have a recurring event that scriptwriters are obliged to include.  In Fireman Sam, for example, every episode had to include a callout scene.  The fire engine had to be seen driving out of the station, bells and sirens blaring.  In the first few series of South Park, Kenny has to die.  I am currently writing scripts for a series about a young Viking who must have a moment of revelation in every episode.  The scene where he rubs his nose and sparks fly is an obligatory element of every script.

Quite often, the type of storyline will be obvious from the premise of the series.  In our series, Hana’s Helpline, each story had to involve a character asking Hana for help.  There were no directions about how this was done, or by whom, but it had to be about a problem the target audience, young children, would understand.  Each episode of our series, Igam Ogam, revolves around a simple phrase, or word, that is repeated in different situations, and with different expression.  Words like Sorry or Again form the basis for a story built around conflicts that arise from the relationships between the characters.

As we have already discussed, conflict is the motor behind all stories.  I intend to explore ways of creating conflict at a later date, but suffice to say that the story bible needs to be clear about where the conflicts lie.  Many series are based on one central conflict, e.g. a single adversary who always needs to be overcome. I once was the story editor for a long running series about football, called The Hurricanes. In every episode, the Hurricanes had to thwart the attempts of their unscrupulous rivals, The Gorgons, to get the better of them on and off the pitch.  Each episode ended with highlights of a game between the teams, which the Hurricanes inevitably won.

This involved all sorts of other conflicts.  Against the elements, when the Gorgons contrived to strand their opponents’ coach in the middle of the jungle, or to challenge them to a game played aboard a ship.  Moral conflicts, as players had to choose between loyalty to their team and personal relationships and obligations.  Physical conflicts, as the Gorgons used strong arm tactics to get their way.  There were sometimes conflicts that involved a player, as he suffered a lack of form, a lack of confidence, a blackmail threat, etc., and at other times conflicts that involved the group, as their kit was destroyed, they came down with a mystery illness, or ended up playing for their lives in the Ball Game of the Toltecs.

Writers will have their own preferences about the sort of story they like to write, and, if the series is to remain fresh and interesting, it is essential that a range of different writers are used, and that they are given the opportunity to bring their own personality to the series.  Some writers relished the possibilities for action in a story about a physical contact with the elements, or the other team.  Others were more at home dealing with the personal conflicts of an individual.   For this reason, there need to be as many opportunities for conflict as possible, without undermining the integrity of the series.  The conflicts, like everything else, are subject to the parameters that have already been established in the section describing the world of the series.  The Hurricanes never travelled in time, or in space.  If their exploits were sometimes incredible, it was because no team could ever win that number of games.

It is quite usual for a story bible to list the different types of story conflict.  The Bible of the series I am currently writing for has a list of potential starting points for adventures, as well as ideas for how the problems might be resolved.  It insists that one of the main characters is emotionally involved in the problem.  This has to be an essential part of all storytelling.  There has to be something at stake, and we have to care about our characters.  This Bible also insists on a three act structure, something that other bibles might take for granted.

Some bibles list suggestions for which characters drive which type of story, as well a visual gags that are permissible, or the type of misunderstanding that drives the humour of the series.  It is good to have lots of information and suggestions, but, sometimes, too many examples can be constrictive.  Every writer will want to come up with his own ideas, rather than use those of the bible.

In practice, writers soon build up an understanding of what works for any series, and specific notes from story editors or executive producers will be an important factor in the way that scripts evolve.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told I know that was in the Bible, but we’ve changed it.

Next week:  The role of the story editor.

Writing For Animation - 21

(Apologies for a slight hiatus.  I've been in Estonia talking to some great students from Cardiff, Estonia, Norway, and the Czech Republic)

 

The Story Bible: Setting the parameters.

No story bible would be complete with a description of both the style of animation, and the technique used.  In my experience, this is a list of things that are inadvisable or impossible for a writer to propose.  I have yet to see a story bible that sets no parameters.

Our story bible for Igam Ogam, for example, will list the possible locations to be used, and the characters.  Since new sets and stop-motion models are extremely expensive, the writers need to construct stories using these characters and locations.  New characters do emerge, but they tend to be simply made, using leftover materials.  In Igam Ogam, a furry caterpillar called Wriggle Wiggle made an appearance in a story, and became a fixture.  In Fireman Sam, it was a pet sheep called Wooly.  Both of these were made with a simple piece of wire and some fluffy material.

Similarly, we had one set that could be constantly re-dressed, so as long as a new location didn’t involve buildings or large landmarks, there was some flexibility with locations.

In a bible for a stop-motion series, you are likely to find restrictions on moving the camera, which may need a costly motion control rig, or on characters or objects leaving the ground, which also require a rig and some touching up in post.  There are often other restrictions limiting what a character can do.  For some reason, stop motion characters never have arms long enough to reach the top of their heads, and often have very short legs.

You will find similar restrictions in other media. I am currently writing scripts for an international coproduction made in computer generated animation.  The bible is very detailed, and comes with a large section about what is possible technically, and what should be avoided.  It explains the limitations of the software they are using, and of the budget.  Another type of limitation could be, of course, that of the skills of the animators.

2D shows usually are more flexible technically, but often will include restrictions on the amount of distortion that is possible, usually for artistic, rather than technical reasons.  We have discussed this in a previous chapter.  Cartoony animation is not always appropriate, and there may be instructions not to bend bodies out of shape, detach hair, eyes, etc for expressive effect.  More usual would be a limitation in the number of people in a scene, or on water effects, explosions, etc.

Animation production for television is an industrial process, and it is important that the scriptwriters understand what is needed to make that process work. At the same time, a good story bible will not heap so many restrictions on the writer that he or she has no room for manoeuvre.

More interestingly, in this section you would include some creative parameters.  These often have to do with genre.  In an action adventure series, are you allowed to crack jokes?  Are you allowed to engage with serious issues in a sitcom like the Simpsons?  Can you have a romantic storyline in a science fiction series?  Writers like to push the envelope of the genre they are working in, and it is important that the bible is clear about how far they can go.

A producer colleague once showed me a bible for a boy’s action show that had very clear rules about how much aggression there could be without transgressing compliancing restrictions.  Cynically, he had come up with a set of suggestions which injected violence into the show, but in an oblique way, i.e. nobody ever hit anyone else.  The show was a big hit.

Any cultural parameters would also be explained here.  Some shows avoid Christmas episodes because they are concerned about sales to the Middle East.  Other shows, championing multi-culturalism, might encourage episodes that relate to festive occasions.

In this section there might also be a discussion about taste.  I’m sure that the bible for South Park will have insisted on a level of tastelessness that needs to be sustained throughout the series.

 Next -  The Story Bible: Storylines

Writing For Animation - 20

The Story Bible- the World (cont)

Animation is about illusion.  Typically, students learning the first steps of animation will be taught how to distort images using “squash and stretch”, and be set a series of exercises with bouncing balls, flapping flags, etc.   2D animation is all about visual tricks, which is why the German word for animation is Trickfilm.  We have already discussed how animation filmmakers like Tex Avery pushed the boundaries of what is possible in terms of timing and distortion.  This sort of animation is usually referred to nowadays as being cartoony.

I hope I have spent weeks, if not months, of blog encouraging writers to try their hand at animation because it has limitless possibilities for fantasy.  Unfortunately, in story bibles for most animated series you will find guidelines that severely limit these possibilities, as cartoon animation, and 2D in general, becomes less fashionable.  There are lots of reasons for this.  Cartoon animation demands a level of draughtsmanship and a sense of timing that is beyond the grasp of many animators.  Though computer generated animation is continually advancing technologically, it does not lend itself easily to the sort of excessive distortions created by people like Tex Avery.  Stop motion animation is even less responsive to a cartoony approach.  In this medium, the simple bouncing ball exercise practiced by animation beginners would normally be achieved by creating several different models of a ball, distorted in different way, which are replaced between exposures.

The demise of the cinema short has meant that animation is primarily made for children, and some of the extreme slapstick of shows like Tom and Jerry is deemed to be too violent. Many broadcasters, concerned both about political correctness, and about the need to keep their young viewers engaged, like to have characters on screen acting like the real children watchin.

For this reason, the story bible for a series will have a very detailed account of what is possible in the world that has been created, and what is not.  I am currently writing scripts for a series about a young Viking.  The series has an educational subtext, so we are not allowed anachronisms. This is not The Flintstones, or Jetsons, where fun was to be had by playing out a contemporary sitcom in the past or the future.  The Viking show needs to have Viking folk doing Viking things in a Nordic location.   All the same, it is not entirely naturalistic.  The characters are larger than life. Our young hero is able to train seals, and finds ways of extricating the Viking crew from the disasters they create with a series of inventions that might be inspired by Heath Robinson.

This particular bible also has an appendix, explaining in great detail the techniques being used, what they are best at, and what could be difficult.  It also has notes on what can be achieved within the budget.

All good story bibles will have these elements.  The point of the bible is to give the writer the most amount of information possible.  There is nothing more frustrating for him, or more time-consuming for the story editor, than to find that the script he has spent days writing either does not conform to the norms of the world that has been created, or is unachievable for one reason of another.

In our stop motion series, Igam Ogam, we supply the writers with a description of each set, duly photographed.  Though we have a couple of sets that can be constantly redressed to suggest different locations, we have no budget either for the building of new sets, or for the creation of new characters.  The metal skeleton, called an armature, for each new character would cost several thousand pounds without the mould for the silicon, clothing, etc. Stop motion, and often CG shows will have similar limitations for props.

Next week:  The Story Bible (cont)

I am going to Tallinn next week, so may not post again now for a fortnight. 

Also, I am taking down some of the early posts of this blog, enhanced versions of which should be available from the beginning of June as inexpensive i-books on the Apple store.  Look out for The Ten Commandments Of Pitching, and Ten Questions To Ask Yourself When Developing An Animated Series.

Writing For Animation - 19

The Story Bible (Cont) 

Anthropomorphism

When I worked in the theatre it was understood that you should Never work with animals or children. I suspect that the reason why children and animals feature so prominently in animation is that this is a medium where both can be kept under control.  Animation films have no need of a rider saying No animals were hurt in the making of this film.

Creating a world where animated animals are credible is not always easy.  Animal characters are used in animation for all sorts of different reasons.  Sometimes we come up with animal characters because children find them cute and endearing. Sometimes they take human roles; sometimes they retain some of their animal characteristics.  Sometimes there is humour to be had in the juxtaposition of human and animal characteristics.  Some films and series, like Watership Down or the Animals of Farthing Wood, are about real animals.  Sometimes, we use animal characters instead of humans to avoid censorship.  The behaviour of Fritz The Cat  might have been beyond the pale if he was human.  To be honest, his behaviour would be disgusting even for a cat!

In all these contexts, though, we are, to some extent, interpreting animal behaviour in one way or another, or using animals in a metaphorical way.  If we were not, we would be making a natural history documentary, and there would be no need for animation.  This means that animated animals will not be behaving exactly like the real thing, and, in order to make them credible, we need to carefully define what they can or cannot do.

If you are creating a world inhabited by animals, here are a few questions that might need to be addressed in the story bible:

Do they wear clothes?

Do they speak?

If they speak, who can understand them?

Where do they live?

Do they interact with human characters?

Do they move like animals, like humans, or a bit of both?

What do they eat?

Can they pick up things, and, if so, with what?

Are they driven by human emotions, or animal instinct?

Each series needs a consistent set of parameters, which should be stated clearly in the bible, so individual writers know what is possible and what is not.

If your characters are representing real animals, then they will probably not wear clothes, and will move more or less naturalistically.  As soon as you make them speak, though, you are introducing human characteristics, and inevitable inconsistencies.  A series like The Animals Of Farthing Wood is, on the surface, about a group of animals escaping from a disaster, and making a dangerous journey to a new home.  It really about how people need to work together to achieve their aim. It is about community, and self-sacrifice.   In this world, the carnivores do not eat their edible companions because of a human bond of solidarity.  In a series like this, the difficulties arise in the animals’ relationship with humans.  If the animals are speaking the same language as humans, can they understand each other?

In some series, animals are merely substitutes for human beings.  In Rupert, for example, the characters wear clothes, live in houses, walk on their hind legs, and can talk to animals and humans alike.  Rupert is not really a bear at all, but a very well educated little boy.  His world, though, is a world of magic, and the characters would not have the same charm if they were human.  In this sort of series attention needs to be paid to the mechanical aspects of the design.  I was the story editor for a series called Little Hippo, in which all the characters were animals, but behaved very much like humans.  Once I had to fly to Paris for a long discussion about whether hippos had hands.

You can have a lot of fun with characters who behave like humans, but retain some animal characteristics.  We made a series called Romuald, an animated sit-com about Santa’s reindeer.  Our reindeer wore clothes, talked to each other, to Santa and various elves, and lived in suburban houses.  At the same time they walked on four legs, used their antlers as hands, and could fly.  We could make this credible because of existing conventions about Santa and his reindeer.  Everyone accepted that Santa’s reindeer could fly, and could talk.  They laughed at Romuald’s mother knitting with her antlers.  Otherwise, the relationships were clear, and Romuald was clearly recognisable as a well-meaning, but slightly nerdy boy beset by challenges that our young audience could recognise.

The important thing is to be clear, and be consistent.  If your characters are able to do something in the 15^th episode that they could not do in the first, then you will lose the confidence of your viewers.

Writing For Animation - 18

The Story Bible – The World

We once developed a series of specials based on a well-know Welsh story called Sion Blewyn Coch.  This was a charming tale about a family of foxes, and their attempts to outwit the local farmer.  The original book was illustrated. In one illustration we see Sion standing in his jacket and trousers in front of a pot on the stove.  He has a fox’s head, and a bushy tail but, apart from that, looks very human, staring into the flames with his hands behind his back.  In another illustration we see him slinking on all fours into the chicken coop.  This time he wears no clothes, and is very recognisable as a fox.

In a book, sometimes you can get away with this kind of inconsistency, but in an animated series you need to sustain a believable fantasy over a number of storylines.  Your viewers have to buy into the world you are creating.

If you are writing for live action you do not have to worry about creating the world.  It exists.  You know more or less the parameters of what can happen and what cannot.  The world has a set of rules.  Objects fall down, not up.  Living things age, wither and die.  The sun rises in the morning, and sets at night.  If you want to subvert these rules, you need to give a plausible reason why.  Failing that, you need to keep the conditions of your exceptional reality consistent.  We may not be given a plausible reason why Benjamin Button lives his life from back to front, but we can go along with the premise of the story because it is followed with a tragic consistency.  The powers of Superheroes are always very clearly defined, and strictly limited by a set of rules.  If kryptonite suddenly fails to make Superman powerless, then there has to be a very good reason why or we will feel cheated.

Animation is all about fantasy, and, unlike writers of live action shows, the creator of an animated series starts with a completely blank page.  This can be dangerous.  It is all very well having a world where anything can happen, but if that world has no internal logic, then it will seem incredible and even ridiculous.

If your world is going to be credible, it must contain some elements that your audience will understand and recognise.  Your characters may take roles that are familiar, or be bound by relationships that are instantly recognisable.  Our series, Hilltop Hospital, was set in a hospital where all the characters, doctors, nurses and patients, were animals.  With two exceptions.  The hospital porters were twin teddy bears. Nobody ever questioned this.  Their role in the hospital, and in the series, was clear.  They shared design elements, and a work schedule, with the other characters.    In our recent series, Igam Ogam, the characters all belong to a prehistoric age.  Nobody questions the fact that our toddler heroine mixes with an ape and a Tyrannosaurus Rex, or that her duvet is a sabre-tooth tiger.  Whatever the species or age of the characters, the relationship between them is obvious to any toddler watching. The Tyrannosaurus is the parent, the ape is her playmate, the sabre tooth tiger is her comfort blanket.  The volcanoes play tunes and spout paint because this world is like one big toddler’s playroom.

When writing the story bible, you need to be as clear as possible about what holds your world together, and very specific about what is possible, and what is not.

Next week:  more about The World. Anthropomorphism, Cartoon vs Naturalism, The implications of the budget, and the medium.

Writing For Animation - 17

The story bible.  Characters

When people talk about animated series for television, they usually refer to the characters. It’s all about the characters, you hear people say.  Certainly, when you think about the best known series, you think of their animated stars - Paddington Bear, Fireman Sam, Shaun the Sheep,  etc.  This is partly because most animated series are named after their lead characters, but also because this is the way we producers would have you think of our shows.  Characters drive the merchandising.

Some of these characters are strong and clearly defined.  Paddington Bear’s personality is central to the stories of the series.  He is the most accident prone bear in existence. Put him in any situation, and he will instantly create a slapstick crisis.  His naïve charm and other-worldliness mean that we can never feel badly towards him.  Fireman Sam’s character is defined by his role.  In the first two series, there was an attempt to make him eccentric, a do-it-yourself inventor.  Current trends in political correctness mean that he has become almost faceless, a role rather than a personality. He is a representative of all firemen, rather than a real person. 

Perfect characters are not very interesting.  The best animation characters are those that have flaws.  To mangle Tolstoy, All perfect characters are alike; each imperfect character is flawed in its own way. Daffy Duck is interesting because his is insane; we like Donald Duck because he is irascible and belligerent; Mr Magoo is as stubborn as he is shortsighted.  I am deliberately quoting series from the past, because the protective nature of today’s broadcasting for children makes it difficult to create characters who deviate too much from the norm.  The perceived need for role models often means that the most interesting characters do not get top billing.  We are too often left with characters whose function is to play a role.  Role playing is an important component of the toy industry, which sells playsets to children so they can re-enact the adventures of the show.  So that you can’t mistake the roles being played, these often feature in the title – Fireman Sam, Postman Pat, Bob The Builder, etc.

Animation is not a medium that naturally lends itself to sophisticated expressions of emotion, and characterisation needs to be clear and simple.  When I was an actor, we would do exercises in improvisation, where one person would be somewhat deaf, another near-sighted, and so on.   Perhaps this would be politically unacceptable nowadays,  but it threw up a wealth of misunderstandings that led to humour and drama.  If you were writing a farce,  this sort of exercise would be a perfect inspiration.   I have always believed that animated characters work best if they have one defining characteristic.  This might be shyness, stupidity, clumsiness, lack of tact, etc.  If you are writing for children, this is especially the case.  The danger is that you can fall too easily into a clichéd stereotype by doing this, and I would urge writers to find different and imaginative ways of expressing very simple characterisation.  For example, in my experience, stupid people do not talk in a slow, deep, brain-dead voice.  If anything they talk far too much, often in light and vapid tones.  Evil people rarely have a loud, hollow laugh.  They tend to be quiet and sinister.   

As a writer, I do not think that it’s all about the characters. It’s all about the stories, and, of course, strong characters often make for good storylines. 

I always think that it is dangerous to think only in terms of characters when you are beginning to develop a series.  You need to think how they are going to drive the stories.   This is what any prospective writer needs to know, and this is what you need to put in the story bible. This means you need to think about their relationships, with each other, with the viewer, and with the world they inhabit. 

In creating the characters, you need to make sure that there is potential for conflict, which is the motor for all stories.  This conflict may be with external forces, visiting antagonists, an unfriendly environment, etc, but stories will always work best if there is potential for conflict within the characters themselves.  Television cop shows are a perfect example of this.  Though the stories may be about fighting crime, it is the relationship between the cops, Sherlock and Watson, Morse and Lewis, etc, that usually provides the emotional grist of the show. You pair an analytical person with an intuitive one, a heavy drinker with a teetotaller, etc.  You need to have the same sort of mix in animated shows.  Make sure the shy character comes up against the one who lacks tact.

The descriptions of characters in a story bible need to be more than simple depictions of character, they need to point up where the potential conflicts might arise, and how they fit into the stories. 

As well as personality, it is important to define cultural, habitual, or physical elements that might inspire storylines – He’s Italian and likes food, or She always wears a long coat that gets trapped in doors… etc.

Most story bibles will also include a list of the characters’ catchphrases.  This is useful, of course, but it is difficult for any writer to imitate speech patterns they have never heard.  However observant we are, and I always encourage writers to travel as much as possible by bus, because it is there that we hear speech patterns that are not our own, we all have our own vocabulary of idioms and speech rhythms.  It is one of the main jobs of a story editor to adjust dialogue in scripts to make sure everyone is in character.  I shall talk about the role of the story editor later.

Next week: The story bible: The world.