Pooh vs. Pukh, a character analysis

My interest in storytelling and defining screen characters led me to analyze two very different yet faithful adaptations of Alexander Alan Milne’s children’s classic “Winnie-the-Pooh”. It just so happens that Wolfgang Reitherman’s first Disney adaptation Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree (1966) is based on the same two chapters as Fyodor Khitruk’s first two Vinni-Pukh (1969/1971) films, both of them about ten minutes long per chapter. However, Pooh and his friends come across as quite different characters in these two versions of the same simple story. 

The first two chapters of A. A. Milne’s book “Winnie-the-Pooh” from 1926 are built around Pooh’s incessant appetite for honey. In the first one he fails to get honey out of a treehole inhabited by bees, in the second one he climbs through another hole into a rabbit burrow and eats so much honey that he gets stuck when trying to climb out.

While Milne concentrates on Pooh’s relationship with Christopher Robin (CR) in the first chapter and introduces the good-mannered rabbit in the second, he only mentions the other characters in a sort of preview of later chapters. After all, Pooh is Christopher Robin’s favorite toy bear and CR is the narrator’s six year old son who wants his daddy to tell Pooh stories about himself, Pooh that is. In fact, Milne’s own son was called Christopher Robin and the book contains many a conversation between father and son in parentheses.

Thus, one might say the self-reflective narration has always been part of the appeal of the Pooh stories. So there’s no wonder that both the Russian and the American adaptations feature voice-over narration and characters looking into mirrors or even straight at the camera.

Literal but playful and appealing
The way Khitruk and Reitherman differ in how they incorporate the narrator and CR into the story is essential to the way they handle the characters and their on-screen relationships. They both seem to do Milne justice on different levels, though. True to Disney’s literal “illusion of life” paradigm, Reitherman frames the animated segments with a credit sequence over live-action footage of a deserted nursery full of stuffed animals and a book of Winnie-the-Pooh which belong to a boy called Christopher Robin “and they all live together in a wonderful world of make-believe”.

This ghostly human world feels as artificial and lifeless that it seems only natural to see the book open all by itself. As it turns out, there is no connection between the English narrator (Sebastian Cabot) and the American animated boy Christopher Robin whose voice belongs to director Reitherman’s son Bruce (later the voice of Mowgli). This Pooh story is obviously told to us and not to CR.

Since the original stories already lack any opportunities for emotional involvement (or Disney sentimentality) the film makers have cleverly expanded the concept of characters inhabiting a printed book, no matter how distancing this may turn out. The original self-reflective conversations between CR and his narrator-father have been translated into occasional interactions between Pooh and the narrator.

Yet the printed book and the carefully rendered illustrations support the notion that this is a children’s story told from an adult’s point of view, fondly looking down on the lovable characters like one is looking at a young child. After all, Pooh is only “stuffed with fluff” and “of very little brain”. The stories in this book might fuel a child’s imagination and role play, audience involvement is not as immediate though because of this additional layer.

Diving into that world

Khitruk’s narrator, on the other hand, is in no other relation to the characters than faithfully narrating their story. When these characters look at the camera, they may look directly at us or appear to think something that we don’t know about. By eliminating the meta-level that both Milne and Reitherman used to indicate the child-like make-believe world of embarking on adventures with forest animals and stuffed toys alike, Khitruk is able to eliminate CR and humans in general.

Thus, the director creates a world of immediacy itself, a universe where Vinni Pukh and his friends are very much alive, not as forest animals or stuffed toys but as “real” characters with no traces of human interference, there’s no distancing book involved.

A narrative that follows children’s logic is ideally suited for a visual style that has the warmth of children’s drawings. After all, this artistic illustration style was much more contemporary in 1969 than the timeless Disney-fied Shepard imitations (I happen to like so much). So Khitruk even manages to discard the “literary classic” or nostalgia dimension of Reitherman’s film without compromising Milne’s spirit.

Although breaking the concept of either style, both films give us a point-of-view up-shot at the "black rain cloud".

Probably the greatest advantage of such a conventionalized, two-dimensional style is the fact that the characters don’t need to be animated in an “illusion-of-life” fashion. The obviously skillful Russian animators have found a naïve style that allows very laconic and deadpan comic performances.

Rabbit is all excited, in Khitruk's style tilted glasses do the job.

Characters

The gopher that is "not in the book".

Although only Pooh, CR and Rabbit appear in the first two chapters, Reitherman sneaks in the whole gang of Pooh characters from the first book as extras – except for Piglet (instead there is a much criticized American gopher that is “not in the book”). Piglet however is mentioned in the preface of Milne’s book and comes off as a small but somehow jealous guy who would love to be as popular as Pooh.


By substituting Piglet for CR, Khitruk gives Pukh a screen partner who unlike CR is not considered mentally superior. Thus, characterized by his relationship with Piglet (Pyatachok), Pukh comes off as a distinct character quite different from what we are used to from the Disney version. Apart from the fact that he hardly ever smiles at anybody he also walks and talks in a swift pace. Especially in the second Pukh film, Piglet is breathlessly trying to keep up with him.

Piglet replaces Christopher Robin

Milne’s Pooh
But before comparing the different film characters, let’s have a look at how Milne characterizes Pooh in the book: According to the narrator, Pooh is CR’s favorite toy and likes to play a game, sit quietly in front of a fire or listen to a story, preferably about himself (as CR remarks). He also likes to make up songs and poems which he sings/hums when wandering about aimlessly. His thought process seems to be slow and steady and he talks to himself. All in all, he is pretty confident that his plans work. And above all, he has an insatiable appetite for honey.

In the second chapter we also learn that he is capable of self-reflection: He exercizes in front of a mirror and afterwards thinks about what it felt like being somebody else. Yet he is persistent enough not to believe Rabbit’s polite way of trying to get rid of him by posing as somebody else or even “nobody” (“But this is Me! – What sort of Me?”). In fact, Pooh doesn’t get the concept of saying things out of politeness at all. When he’s stuck he’s embarrassed and even crying at the prospects of not eating for a week, but it never occurs to him that this situation might have been uncomfortable for Rabbit as well. In his case, social ignorance leads to resilience and one couldn’t even be mad at him for that. E.H. Shepard’s illustrations hardly show any strong facial expressions.

Reitherman’s Pooh

The stereotyped thinking gesture.

Sebastian Cabot introduces Pooh as a lovable bear with very little brain and an insatiable appetite for honey. We see Pooh exercising and talking to himself in front of a mirror (self-reflection). He’s obviously a Teddy Bear. His voice (Sterling Holloway) is rather high but slow and charming, he always smiles and there is a stereotyped gesture to show his thought process. He speaks not only to himself but also to the narrator and sings whenever he is on his own, sometimes supported by a choir that emphasizes the mood of warm American nostalgia right from the title song.

Talking to himself and stuffed with fluff.

Another framing device.

This happy-go-lucky Pooh might be regretful but never angry or hurt, he even laughs when he bangs his head to a branch. The first person he thinks of is not CR but “Winnie the Pooh”. But like in the book, he relies on CR to get him out of tight places. Yet, the narrator tells us, Pooh is not “the sort to give up easily”. When he put his mind to honey, he stuck to it. He may always be happy and not be able to think a bad thought but he certainly can’t read other people’s feelings/intentions. After eating all Rabbit had, he’s simply disappointed that there’s no honey left, and – like in the book – doesn’t think about what he inflicted on Rabbit by getting stuck in his front door.

Khitruk’s Pukh
Although the harpsichord title tune and the fairy-tale narrator suggest a deliberate pace, Pukh himself is quite the opposite. Before we see him, we see his tracks and the narrator tells us that he always likes a snack and that he’s a poet writing verses and even small songs. As I’ve written above, Pukh is walking and talking swiftly and comes off as rather gnarly, especially when he sings. He shows hardly a facial expression and pauses from time to time looking into the camera and guessing what to say or do next. His blank looks are funny in itself and combined with brilliant timing define an animated performance as laconic as anything Buster Keaton or Kaurismäki have done.

He is a slow thinker, though. During his first conversation with Piglet he hardly makes eye contact and speaks in choppy phrases. He treats Piglet like a younger brother whose always one step behind but running to catch up. Piglet seems to look up to Pukh and do whatever he demands. Although Piglet is eager to help Pukh, he is still better at doing some things like inflating a balloon.

The emphasis on relationships and character interaction becomes especially apparent in the second film/chapter, where Pukh only gets stuck in the end for a few seconds. Instead the honey-eating part is expanded to show how Pukh is ignorant of the whole politeness concept and how he bosses around Piglet without coming off as a tyrant. In fact, Pukh not only washes his little friend’s face, he also ties a napkin over his mouth so that Piglet isn’t able to eat or say anything during the whole meal. Pukh soon forgets about his proudly displayed social manners when he learns that there is still more food for him.

Although Pukh only thinks about Rabbit's honey...

...he still remembers his manners.

What really makes these characters come to life are such small gestures like in the end when Pukh tries to grab Piglet’s hand to run off with him.

Final Thoughts
Having grown up with Disney’s Pooh featurettes, I was slightly disappointed the first time I saw Khitruks Vinni Pukh not because of its visual simplicity and charming stylization but because it was built around a different title character and most of all, everything I loved about Winnie the Pooh – notably the book and narrator interactions – was missing from this version.

Only after seeing all three Khitruk shorts a second time I began to see why everybody in Eastern Europe was so fond of Pukh. Gradually, the brisk pace and singing became a valuable alternative to the laid-back style of the Sherman Brothers’ songs that in my mind had become synonymous with Winnie the Pooh.

Although both film versions follow the book very closely, even down to the dialogue (according to the subtitles, at least), Khitruk’s substitution of CR with Piglet sounds like a major change but ultimately leads to less detached storytelling than in the Disney version. Pukh’s relationship with Piglet gives us an additional dimension not present in Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree* because it doesn't show when Pooh talks only to CR who he looks up to and not Piglet who looks up to him.

After all, and this is true for both adaptations, isn't it refreshing to have a protagonist who only cares about his well-being and never thinks about how his friends feel? Actually, the quirky Russian Pukh is also a more interesting character, simply because he isn’t always happy. I think it’s interesting to see what small decisions can lead to two different characters in roughly the same story.

*Piglet is present in later Disney featurettes, of course, but comes off as a rather different, timid and even stupid character.

Oh Bother! Yet Another Pooh (NO SPOILERS)

Around the time Winnie the Pooh (2011) was released last spring, someone asked me whether Disney’s many Pooh films always told the same story and I had to admit that I’ve lost track of which element popped up in which featurette. Having more recent memories of the Russian version that also follows Milne’s chapters very closely I found it was time to take another look at both The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1966-77) and Fyodor Khitruk’s Vinni Pukh (1969-72) to clarify the situation.

While I’m not interested in meticulously relating the Milne chapters to the many film versions here, I like to share a few thoughts about the new Pooh today (its US release date) and have a closer look at the way Disney/Reitherman and Khitruk tell their stories, respectively, in a future post.

It was probably the first time ever that an animated Disney feature was released in Switzerland months before its American release date (on April 14, to be precise). Although it wasn’t eclipsed by Harry Potter it understandably went under the radar of most moviegoers and wasn’t perceived as the major Disney release of 2011. After numerous direct-to-video features and an omnipresent TV-show the prospects of yet another return of the (meanwhile trademarked) Disney-fied Winnie the Pooh were not especially exciting, to put it mildly.

Apart from my intention to see every theatrically released hand drawn Disney feature at least once (consciously avoiding upgraded direct-to-video releases like Bambi 2), there was another – wholly unexpected – reason to see it: the poster.

Although this is one of those familiar promotional group pictures where the characters are not really interacting or aren’t even arranged in an overall pose, it told me very clearly what to expect. All the characters are on the lookout for something to fight against except for Eeyore who is missing his tail and Pooh at the center who is looking for honey. There’s not much overlapping and we see the silhouettes very clearly so the animals appear as individuals rather than a tight-knit group.

But what intrigued me was the horned silhouette that gives us a hint of what the animals’ opponent might look like. It also reminds us that they might be once again chasing a figment of their imagination because they see things differently than they are – after all, it’s just a tree-top, anything else is interpretation at this point.

Mildly enjoyable, but really more of the same
The film itself is not bad measured by the three Pooh shorts that made up The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977). Closely inspired by some of A.A. Milne’s original Pooh stories the 2011 edition is able to capture the spirit of chasing one’s own shadow that made the early shorts so charming to me. All the familiar elements are intact and feel more of a piece but less inspired than before. It seems only consistent that the main feature is accompanied by a narrator-driven short that has “retro” and “hommage” written all over it.

Paul Felix (with Patrick Sullivan and his team) has to be credited for translating the 1960s water color background style to the computer era. As expected, the pencil clean-up is a lot less charming (with fake construction lines that are sometimes not even in the right place).

At first, I resented the redesign of Christopher Robin who now looks even blander than ever with his newly white eyes instead of the charming buttons. But considering the logic of having white eyes for real forest animals and button eyes for stuffed animals it is only appropriate. Eeyore seems to be an exception to the rule, but then maybe sad eyes aren't possible with buttons and he really isn't made of fluff inside his head... who knows...

Story less episodic, characters still simplified
The biggest difference is that this time the supposedly three Milne stories are interwoven rather than told as separate episodes, so despite a running time of only about an hour the new movie feels more like a feature than the 1977 film. Combining the elements of several chapters into one long episode has the advantage that the story arcs can be expanded without having to come up with more complex information within each narrative thread and the plot points can be dispersed more evenly across the film.

Familiar diversions such as song- and dream-sequences in different drawing styles and tongue-in-cheek elements try to mask the fact that Pooh and his friends are still serial characters who therefore can’t have a real character arc, i.e. undergo real changes.

Pooh himself is maybe telling us one too many times that he’s a “bear of very little brain” (as opposed to just being a “silly old bear”) which reminded me of Kung-Fu Panda’s Po. Piglet is acting less timidly than outright stupidly, which is a pity. All things considered the characters are coherent within the Disney-Pooh universe. Given the simple story and the amount of dialogue scenes I believe the opportunity to write (and animate) more complex characters without losing their established personality would have been there.

As always the book and narrator are part of the story with the letters probably more emphasized than in previous versions. Although the story contains many elements of Chapter Five in which Rabbit has a busy day, and we learn what Christopher Robin does in the mornings from Milne’s “House at Pooh Corner” with its many references to reading and spelling, the most interesting part of that chapter unfortunately didn’t make it into the film, although it would have contained the potential to explore Eeyore’s character beyond the “everything happens to me” attitude:

Eeyore had three sticks on the ground, and was looking at them. Two of the sticks were touching at one end, but not at the other, and the third stick was laid across them. Piglet thought that perhaps it was a Trap of some kind.
‘Oh, Eeyore,’ he began again, ‘I just –‘
‘Is that little Piglet?’ said Eeyore, still looking hard at his sticks.
‘Yes, Eeyore, and I –‘

(original colour illustration by E.H.Shepard)

‘Do you know what this is?’
‘No’ said Piglet.
‘It’s an A.’
‘Oh,’ said Piglet.
‘Not O – A,’ said Eeyore severely. ‘Can’t you hear, or do you think you have more education than Christopher Robin?’
‘Yes,’ said Piglet. ‘No,’ said Piglet very quickly. And he came closer still.
‘Christopher Robin said it was an A, and an A it is – until somebody treads on it,’ Eeyore added sternly.
Piglet jumped backwards hurriedly, and smelt at his violets.
‘Do you know what A means, little Piglet?’
‘No, Eeyore, I don’t.’
‘It means Learning, it means Education, it means all the things that you and Pooh haven’t got. That’s what A means.’
‘Oh,’ said Piglet again. ‘I mean, does it?’ he explained quickly.
‘I’m telling you. People come and go in this Forest, and they say, “It’s only Eeyore, so it doesn’t count.” They walk to and fro saying “Ha-ha!” But do they know anything about A? They don’t. It’s just three sticks to them. But to the Educated – mark this, little Piglet – to the Educated, not meaning Poohs and Piglets, it’s a great and glorious A. Not,’ he added, ‘just something that anybody can come and breathe on.’

So while the opportunity to further explore the well-known characters is ignored throughout, the story focuses on the “storm in a teapot” elements (like chasing a Backson and finding Eeyore's tail) decorated with mandatory, uplifting messages about friendship. A storm in a teapot, little more, is what this gentle imitation of – rather than a sequel to – The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh really feels like.

Pooh-color [Updated]

While writing about Disney's new Winnie the Pooh (2011) and its American and Russian predecessors I thought it would be fun to do a tiny little color-guessing post once again. It's an easy one whether you know Fyodor Khitruk's 1969 short Vinni-Pukh or not. But if you don't you should probably give it a chance. An English subtitled version is available on youtube.

Screenshot with desaturated bear.

What was Pooh/Pukh's fur color in the Russian adaptation?

You can answer/guess in the comments or simply look it up on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqdiEUp6s4E&feature=related (First short 1969)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdogzjfzKTM&feature=related (Second short 1971)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73uIn56G1YE&feature=related (Third short 1972, part I)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtVVRuy1T9c&feature=related (Third short 1972, part II)


Enjoy!

Update:

The correct answer was C, of course!

More on Horton

Part II: from gently curved lines to a fully fleshed out 3D world

Note: Since there is no DVD out yet, all the pictures in this review are screenshots from Quicktime trailers and promotional excerpts. I believe that it is crucial to show the pictures I am writing about. By the way, there is an interesting article by Kristin Thompson about fair use and frame enlargements.

Previous adaptations
As you may know, Horton’s adventures have been translated into animation more than once. Bob Clampett’s 1942 Looney Tune “Horton hatches the egg” is certainly the most artistically successful attempt, even though it is more classic Clampett fare than anything else (down to the usual “Now I’ve seen everything”-suicide-gag). But Horton himself is sweet and gentle (all pink for a change) and Dr. Seuss’ simplicity is preserved in lush watercolour backgrounds. The other advantage: it is as short as it should be.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0034870/

http://ricksflickspicks.animationblogspot.com/2008/03/11/horton-hatches-the-egg-1942/

Much has also been written lately about Chuck Jones’ 1970 TV special. Ted Geisel himself helped making changes to the original (and thus made it virtually critic-proof) and expand it to 26 deliberate minutes. After all, simplified TV animation wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to the faithful elephant.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0198545/

In the 1990s Dr. Seuss’ original illustrations were converted to cut-out shorts narrated by stars such as Dustin Hoffman or Billy Chrystal (http://youtube.com/watch?v=26GWT7NQqd8).

All of these versions followed a different approach in adapting Geisel’s illustration style making use of the graphic possibilities of two-dimensional media. One of the challenges of 3D is the necessity of defining everything.

Filling in the blanks

It has often been argued that reminding the audience of their watching a movie destroys all identification and connection to the characters. While this might be a desired distancing effect in a Godard or Monty Python film, post modern cinema of the 80s and 90s has proven that formal experiments and obvious external interventions don’t necessarily break the emotional connection an audience has to a character (e.g. the films of David Lynch, the Coen Brothers or Woody Allen’s Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) among many others).

In classic feature animation (unlike shorts) the goal has always been to make the audience forget they were watching drawings. Of course I mean “forget” in the sense of “willing suspension of disbelief”.

So usually – as in Snow White (1937) or the Jungle Book (1967) – when we enter into a story through a book, this device serves only as a bracket in the beginning and the very end while the whole plot is set completely within the story’s world.

One notable exception though was the first Winnie the Pooh featurette (1966) and for that matter the first three later combined in “The many adventures of Winnie the Pooh” (1977). I bring all this up because the Pooh books to me are in many ways similar to the Hortons.

Although the original Pooh illustrations have been completely Disney-fied, there is no doubt that the three-dimensionally animated characters are living in a book AND come across as believable characters all the same. Instead of breaking the spell the narrator becomes a commenting character himself talking to the animals.

Apart from all the narrative aspects this way of presenting the story has a lot of visual potential in not filling all the blanks.

The loose quality of the illustrations is kept in the backgrounds that nevertheless offer enough information to suggest perspective and volume. Of course it might be a fortunate coincidence that Disney’s 1960s style with Xeroxed pencil lines works so perfectly well with this approach. But the crucial decision to me is defining only as little as possible graphically.

What makes illustrated children’s books (and the best fantasy films) so fascinating, after all, is the possibility of immersing oneself into a fantasy world that leaves room for imagination and para-social interaction with the characters therein.

While not having to define everything is one of the great advantages of hand drawn animation this becomes a bit of a challenge in 3D where you practically can’t have blank space. As I mentioned in an earlier post, part of the storytelling issues with the new “Horton” come from over-defining the characters psychologically. Nothing is left to the imagination.

While this may be true for some of the visuals, there are lots of good examples to prove that strong composition and design can make up for the obvious disadvantages of 3D compared to painting or drawing. As in Chuck Jones’ previous adaptation the key notions here are simplification and stylization.

The opening credits: an example in clarity
Through white mist the (virtual) camera dives into a close up of a dewdrop falling from a leaf onto some kind of a chestnut that rolls successively through a field of dandelions and a cave where it hits a flower with a tiny speck that floats into the jungle of Nool, where it eventually passes Horton. Although it has become a common cliché to start cartoon movies or commercials in the style of a mock-lyrical nature travelogue (dating back to Tex Avery’s early Warner cartoons), for once this works on both visual and narrative levels.

To guess the impact each part of this small series of reactions will have, it is important for the audience to exactly understand continuity and screen direction (from left to right, first down, later up again). While this is most basic film making it gets neglected alarmingly often in modern action movies.

This opening sequence serves as an ideal example to reflect on how simplicity and stylization can sometimes lead to stronger compositions than elaborate design and how cartoon forms and photorealism work together effortlessly. After all, the quality of a shot is judged by its effectiveness of getting the plot across.

In order to focus on contrast and values I’ve decided to desaturate the pictures. The colourful versions are presented in the next post.

As the Blue Sky logo fades to white we enter a very tiny world to which we have to adjust our perception gradually (a few dewdrops and a leaf come into focus [image 01]), much the same as Horton has to listen really hard to communicate with the Whos. We now know that the story will deal with small events that appear to be big. Then the dewdrops conjoin to one single large drop that is heavy enough to make the leaf bend down [image 02], analog to the Whos’ need of working together to be heard by the inhabitants of Nool. Even if I’m wrong and this has never been the intention of the makers, it nevertheless can be interpreted that way.

As the picture comes into focus our eyes are immediately drawn to the moving center of the frame to the area of highest contrast (little white stain [image 01]). We follow the drop as it merges with the others and ultimately falls off-screen. The shape of the leave guides the eye to the spot where there’s also the highest contrast [image 02].














The falling drop is still high contrast and in focus where as all in the far back is out of focus. It’s shape changing suggests real life physics.







The harmonically curved twig and leaves resemble Dr. Seuss’ ink lines and lead the eye to the visually heavy ball that is clearly readable in front of the blurred BG in spite of the overall dark nature of this picture. The brightest part is the splashing dewdrop the weight of which sets the spiky ball in motion.

As no one would argue that any tree in real life would look as stylized as this one, it still organic and believable. Since nothing moves and the silhouette reads clearly we can’t miss the bouncing movement of the chestnut on the upper edge of the trunk that serves as a visual down-hill slope to the field of dandelions. By the way the absence of squash and stretch underlines the bouncing ball’s solidness.

The heavy dark ball contrasts in value, speed and weight with the soft white blowballs.








The large forms without further subdivisions imply that we are very close to small objects. Of course there are details to make it believable but they don’t change the appearance of the forms and shapes.















We only notice the elements necessary for the storytelling. First of all we know that the ball will come from the left. Aside from that the moving leaf on the left attracts our attention immediately. The crack follows the established path. This area is also bathed in a pool of light so that nothing in the surroundings is competing for our attention. The crack itself and the ball on it are of high contrast while still maintaining a dusky light quality. The back lit up-shot emphasizes the ball’s spikes and makes it look threatening to crash on us any minute now.

Although lighting in the cave comes across as theatrical the light sources still feel organic. Focus adjustment in combination with a clear path of light makes this background instantly readable. Anticipation is generated by tracking back to shift the center of attention to the big and bright flower. All the elements around the path of light enwrap the scene warmly, with mushrooms curved in Seuss-like lines. The yellow flower in the spotlight is composed of simply shaped petals and a cozy cushion for a centrepiece like a child would imagine it. Since the flower is all the same value the speck is seen even though the picture is this small.

As is reinforced in this close up with blurred BG the speck is clearly in danger. The light comes from left above, the unseen threat (as Mark Kennedy would call it) is expected to come from the left as well.

When the relatively giant ball finally hits the flower in slow motion, this is not just for comic effect. That way the shot stands out from the rest of the sequence, so the moment of setting the Whos’ world in motion gets special attention. It is finally made clear that the journey of the speck is caused by nature and simple coincidence.

Whereas the ball falls into oblivion the bright small speck becomes the focus of interest. When it floats out into the fully sunlit jungle of Nool the strongly directed lighting makes way for flatter high key lighting. Before I will comment on the conclusion of this sequence (unfortunately the trailer doesn’t provide imagery for this part, let’s have a look at the chosen colors in this segment.

Possibly this doesn’t cover exactly all the shots in the sequence since the trailer only provides it in an intercut way.

The balance of stylization and organic naturalness of the images is clearly enhanced by the color choices. As opposed to a lot of contemporary CG features there is no garishness and no misstep in the color scheme of this sequence. The whole sequence seems unified by superficially realistic hues. Whereas it is quite tempting to unify a color palette by tinting all the colors with a certain overtone (in warm and cozy environments usually a yellowy brown that leads to colors that in the real world are associated with excrements if anything), here it is the delicate quality of early morning sunlight that affects the earth tones only as much as necessary. Interestingly the warm browns of the twig with the spiky ball (5^th picture in mosaic 1) stand out over the muted greens of the blurred background. In the monochrome version there was far less contrast perceived. Most of the colors are rather muted (earthly greys, wood, the dandelions, the ball itself), even the naturally blue sky doesn’t draw our attention because it is softened by pale yellow morning light. It only serves as a contrasting device when the white seeds are in the air. But within the composition this is still the area of least contrast so as not to distract us. Before the ball falls into the dandelions its practically neutral color is more saturated so as to further stand out from the pale beige and blue (in the shadow area) blowballs. The inside of the crack and the initial part of the cave shot look almost monochrome as they are supposed to be in the darkness. In the theater the subtle contrast of warm (the almost neutral mushrooms) and cool colors within the dark cave setting is far more distinguishable than in those quicktime screengrabs.

Now the purest colors that stand out are the comparatively warm green of the leaf that fills the screen as well as the unicolored yellow flower. While the green leaf is set against a darker unfocused area of green, blue and black and thus appears to be tone in tone, the yellow flower is not only surrounded by muted dark colors but also by two cooler areas of dark blue and bluish green. Since the flower is illuminated by a ray of light, its brightness works well despite the overall darkness.

The above mentioned pools and paths of light that anticipate the path of the rolling ball are always pale and warm and contrast beautifully with the cool dark colors of their surroundings as is evident in the first picture of the second mosaic: the dark blades of grass on the left leans towards cool blue, the green of the blade/leaf through which the ball enters is more on the pale/beige side. The only exception is the ray of light that enters the cave at the crack where the ball falls down into the visually cooler area. But as stated above, this serves to increase the contrast after the flower comes in.

Obviously red in its pure form is totally absent from this part of the sequence. So are its neighbors magenta, purple and even orange. Even though the palette is clearly stylized and limited, it doesn’t come across as unnatural or distracting.

By the way, red is saved for the letters of the main title “Horton hears a who” which follows while the speck is floating over a waterfall. As for the magenta: of course this becomes a highly prominent color because of the clover Horton puts the speck on. It appears to be exclusively tied to that flower which makes it identifiable by its color alone, even when it is only a mere spot on the screen.

The soft, slightly warm light in combination with camera angles that are very close to the objects, this sequence communicates a feeling for the sheltered environment Whoville has been enjoying so far. As the speck floats into the open the camera is already far back which reminds us how small the speck must appear to an animal. Until now we have seen the diegetic world in a highly fragmented way that leaves plenty of room for the imagination.