The Thief and the Cobbler, Richard Williams, 1964-1995 (with ongoing recobbling by Garrett Gilchrist)

So it's my birthday! And I like to do special things for my birthday, even though I have had lots and lots of them. And I like to bring you all treats on my birthday, though this one is bittersweet.

I think we all suppose, at one time or another, that it must be a fine thing indeed to be a genius. But as liberating and wonderful as genius can be, it can also quite often be a curse.

The story of Richard Williams' film The Thief and the Cobbler has been written about by much more erudite and educated people than myself.
There is a recent documentary which I did not get to see at the Minneapolis/St.Paul International Film Festival, because there is no justice in this world (i.e. the only screening was when I had to work, which was total bullshit.)



The short and sloppy version is this: Williams began the film in 1964, struggled along to secure independent funding for two decades. In 1988, Warner Brothers agreed to finance and distribute the film, but pulled out when it began to run late and over budget. The rights were taken from Williams, and the project was handed over to Fred Calvert, who was pretty much instructed to finish it as quickly and cheaply as possible. Calvert completely re-edited the whole thing, some slapdash animation was added to make the whole thing into a narrative, and it sucked.


Recently, an effort is being made to restore Williams version to his original vision. This valiant effort is being spearheaded by animator Garrett Gilchrist, who is also doing the lion's share the work himself.

ENOUGH OF MY BLATHERING. Here is the rough of The Recobbled Cut, from The Thief Archive.

NOT the final version. An early rough cut of the new restoration of the unfinished animated masterpiece from 3-time Oscar-winning animator Richard Williams (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, A Christmas Carol). Almost no music has been added yet, and most audio is just the audio from Richard Williams' workprint. Color correction is not final, HD material has not been cleaned up to remove dirt and splices (apart from a few scenes), SD material has black level issues. We will also be doing some additional work, cleanup and new artwork here and there.

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(Rumor had it that "The 35mm reel of (the last) sequence was found in Warner Animation head Jean Macurdy's trash by a former "Thief" animator."


And a comparison of the HD restoration:




Oh check it out deleted scenes:









There's more at The Thief Archive. You must run and subscribe to their channel immediately.

Habfürdő (The Foam Bath) Kovásznai György, 1979

HEY YOU GUYS YOUR DAILY CARTOON IS THREE YEARS OLD!

(OK, it was really three on the 14th but I forgot so I will do this on the anniversary I started the blog. Because it is my blog and I can do that.)

And just like a petulant three year old, I'm gonna post a full length Hungarian feature with no subtitles. Nyah.

I have been dying to see Habfürdő since I first ran across some blurry, poor quality clips on YouTube. I was immediately intrigued by the way that Kovásznai distorted faces and bodies to express changing moods and the characters perceptions of themselves and each other. I'm positive that I am missing a lot - unlike something like Fehérlófia the story isn't known or easy to follow, and it can be very wordy. But Kovásznai was a really fantastic animator with a unique aesthetic informed by his extensive artistic training, and on those merits I still find the film rewarding, especially since the artist communicates so well visually.

Kovásznai György was so cool his works were shown with those of the esteemed William Kentridge at The Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest last year. THAT IS SO BADASS. My head would have exploded.


Habfürdő

Terry Gilliam's Do It Yourself Animation Show, Bob Godfrey, 1974

"Terry, what advice do you have for people out there who want to make film animation?"

"Well, Bob, don't. Keep well away from it - it's dangerous stuff.

In 1974, animator Bob Godfrey hosted the Do It Yourself Film Animation Show. He invited established animators to demonstrate their techniques, and inspired a new generation of British animators. (Oh look there's a book, too.

Anyway. It's my birthday. I love Terry Gilliam. Everything I am today is pretty much his fault.





So now you know how to do that, you can make me some cartoons. Get cracking, people.

Fehérlófia (Son of the White Mare)Marcell Jancovics, 1982

It's been a YEAR! I have posted 365 cartoons (I have too. The first post has the ones starting from March 13th, Mr. Picky Pants.)

A cartoon every damn day. A year without pants.

And I haven't run out. Not only that, people seem to be making more, and some of them are really good. I also keep finding gems that I have never seen before.

I hope it's been fun for you, because it's been incredible for me. Something that started out as a very casual thing has taught me a lot. I have seen so much beautiful, weird, stunning, disturbing, hilarious and amazing work from all over the world that I never would have sought out without the pressure of daily presentation. In the coming year, I promise will continue stuffing as much animation in my eyeholes as humanly possible, in lieu of doing something like ending world hunger or curing cancer and stuff, so that I may continue to bring your daily diversion.

There are so many brilliant and dedicated people in the world, bringing us this wonderful art. I thank them from the bottom of my heart for doing so. It's hard, frequently thankless and not terribly lucrative work (Please buy their stuff and give them money. Please.) Every animator out there who might be reading this, I appreciate you so much for everything you do, and for the joy you have brought to me and the eight other people who look at this blog. Thank you.

SO ANYWAY OFF WITH THE TROUSERS AND ON WITH THE CARTOON.

Today, you get a special treat. Normally, I wouldn't post a feature length film, but today is special and so is this.

Fehérlófia (Son of the White Mare) is an incredible film by Hungarian animator Marcell Jancovics. It's particularly fascinating because it maintains its lovely, colorful graphic style throughout - very unusual for a feature film. I have no idea how I hadn't heard of this before I did, because it's extraordinary.

It's in nine parts. I know that's not the ideal way to watch a feature. if anyone knows where I can buy this on DVD, please tell me.

ETA - The channel with the subbed version was taken down. Someone has uploaded the first two parts with subs: I have also found the full film without.

1:


2:





Or how 'bout let's try this version from our saviors at Archive.org! Full movie with subtitles!




(I notice that this is one of my most frequently linked and visited posts, so I like to keep it fresh.)