Hopelessness is the foundation of my creation": A Conversation with Sarina Nihei

Some time ago, a friend and I were discussing horror animation. What filmmaker knows how to evoke genuine fear in animation? It's Sarina Nibei.

It has been five years since Nibei's graduation film, "Little People in Hats," swept film festivals and won the Grand Prix at the Ottawa International Animation Film Festival. With its razor-sharp editing, sinister sound design, and bizarre story of a community of dwarfs who are routinely beaten as part of a conspiracy, the film was somewhere between a Lynchian nightmare and an absurdist satire from Estonian animation studio Junis Film.

Director Nibei continued this style in his subsequent short films. First came "Rabbit's Blood" and then "Polka Dot Boy," which premieres this week at the Ottawa International Animation Film Festival. The film draws us into a new conspiracy centered around a cult that worships people with polka-dot blotches. I don't want to spoil it - and even if I did, I'm not sure I could - but suffice it to say that "Polka Dot Boy," like the director's previous film, is diabolically entertaining.

Although director Nihei is Japanese and based in her native country, her creative affinities lie elsewhere. Her macabre humor reminds one of certain British and Estonian filmmakers, especially Estonian animation oddball Pretty Pern. Nibei produced "Little People in Hats" at the Royal College of Art in England, and "Rabbit's Blood" was also made in the same country. There is something uniquely British about "Polka Dot Boy" in the bleak suburbs, but this time the producer is the French Mille Productions.

"A sense of despair is the basis of my creation," Nibei says frankly. Before the premiere of "Polka Dot Boy," we asked her a few questions...

Cartoon Brew: "Polka Dot Boy" contains elements familiar from your previous films: cults, codes, murder, and tiny people. When did you come up with the idea for this film? Did it come from the creative process of your previous works? At the time, I wanted to make a film about a person suffering from a certain disease, so I think that was the impetus.

There are similar elements in my films, but I inevitably think about darker things when it comes to filmmaking. One of them is the extreme belief in cults, which always intrigues and upsets me. Also, a sense of hopelessness is the foundation of my creative process, and I think that's why I always end up with similar elements.

All of your films convey a sense of anxiety about society, but here the theme is more apparent. You cite harsh events from current events, such as terrorist attacks, etc.

I try not to include too many explicit elements. One of the reasons for this is that when a theme has a political dimension, we want people to interpret it in different ways. But that scene you mentioned was necessary for the story. And I would be happy if people would think about what it was.

Every one of your films has a mysterious story and invites many interpretations. 21]

I'm not going to interrupt people's opinions about my work. First of all, I want to entertain people through my films, and it is a plus for me if after viewing they consider further meanings.

If so, what is the script like for such an enigmatic film?

I don't necessarily call it a script, but I write a lot of words and paint a picture at the same time until I have an overall structure for the story. The pages are all messy and chaotic, but I wrote down everything that was in my head. I showed you some of the pages in an online talk I gave during the quarantine, but I can't show them here because of spoilers.

As in your previous works, you use pen, paint, and paper here. Why do you like this technique? Also, what do you do with all the frames after the film is finished? The hand-drawn texture cannot be imitated. Also, it is very satisfying to see the large amount of paper when the film is finished, and it is like a special reward that only hand-drawn animators get after spending thousands of hours on it. I keep all the frames from my past films. I think one day I may sell them or send them to audiences as giveaways.

The sound design of Hollett Kouas is an important element of your work. I know you have worked with Priit Perun...

Of course I love Priit Perun's work and his animation has had a huge influence on my work, and when I was making my thesis project at RCA, I knew that the sound design had to be something special. I loved the sound design that Hollett did for Priit, so I explained to him my passion for Estonian animation and his sound, and luckily he said yes. Since then I have always worked with him and I am very grateful. [At what stage does he start working on the soundtrack? For some scenes I have a specific idea of the sound, but for most scenes it is quite vague. When I try to explain the background and mood of the characters, he knows exactly what I want, sometimes beyond my expectations. That is the most exciting part of the production process.

You have worked with different producers for different productions. What does a good producer look like to you?

To be honest, I haven't worked with many producers from the very beginning of the production process. When it comes to my stories, I like to control everything. So my ideal producer is my fan.

Have you ever considered working with a Japanese producer? I don't think I am very popular with the Japanese. But if there is a Japanese person who would consider producing my film, I would consider it.

The Ottawa International Animation Festival will be online from September 23 to October 4. Tickets for each program are $9 Canadian, and regular festival passes are $60 Canadian. For more information, see the festival website.

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