Dec 31, 2015

On the 60th Anniversary of Chuck Jones' “Evening of the Frogs”

Sixty years ago today--December 31, 1955--a short masterpiece was released in movie theaters: Chuck Jones' “An Evening of Frogs”. The film was a great success, for at the time, few people talked about animation.

Eventually, this short film was recognized. Steven Spielberg once called it “the ‘Citizen Kane’ of animated shorts,” but even if Spielberg had remained silent, this wordless wonder would still rank among the best of Jones' hundreds of shorts for Warner Brothers.

Before I go any further, an excerpt:

I must confess that no matter how many times I watch this film, I cannot understand how it was made. Technically, I understand it, but there is something about it that I don't understand. Every member of Jones' team operates at the pinnacle of their craft, arrived at after decades of struggle and refinement, but their collaboration is so seamless and absolute that it is hard to believe that this animation was created by mere mortals. Like the sky above us and the earth below us, this animation is a perfect marvel of nature with no room for improvement.

The credit goes to a handful of individuals: Abe Levitow, Richard Thompson, Ken Harris, and Ben Worsham bring the characters to life through perfectly timed, funny animation (funny because it's perfectly timed), Bob Gribbrook's layouts and Phil DeGard's scenic art drop us into the middle of a believable mid-20th century American metropolis. Not to forget Milt Franklin's musical style, Treg Brown's sound effects, and the voice of Michigan J. Frog himself, Bill Roberts.

And consider this: the Jones crew made a new short film every three weeks. They did not spend years making this film. They just worked on this film over and over again, just like countless others. They lather, rinse, repeat, and eventually retire.

But Jones himself reminds us why he is considered one of the greats of animation. Jones' presence is felt in every frame of the film, as he drew more layout drawings per film than any other Golden Age theatrical short animation director. Jones does not rely on standard poses or stock facial expressions. He is a cartoonist of the highest order, a master of his own world, effortlessly creating custom poses and facial expressions for each scene in a unique style that can only be described as the Jones way.

Jones' strength is something that few directors of animated comedies then or now possess: an attention to detail. When he couldn't find a suitable ragtime tune for the singing frog, he wrote his own from scratch with the help of Martins, completing “The Michigan Rag.” The song sounds so authentic that to this day people wonder which songs in the film are pre-existing and which were written specifically for the film (this site explains it all).

His talent for observation extended to amphibian stars as well. As a frog owner myself, I am routinely frustrated when animators don't take the time to get the frogs right. When a frog swallows its food, its eyes sink deep into its head. Few animators seem to realize this. But there is no such laziness in Jones' work. I remember when I was a kid,” he says. Any boy who has ever picked up a frog knows how its body sits and how its arms and legs hang down. So I had to make sure that in those first few seconds on the screen, when (Michigan) came on, he looked like a frog. Even his eyes blink upward.”

The audience probably did not notice every single directorial choice Jones made during the production. The upward blink of the eye is not what makes a cartoon good or bad. But it is a reminder that any film, animated or otherwise, is the aggregate of hundreds or tens of thousands of individual creative choices, all of which ultimately culminate in what the audience experiences on the screen. While the audience does not consciously tally the merits or demerits of each choice when watching a film, they feel these choices and intuitively understand one thing: whether or not the director cares.

Jones cared. He was particular. And in this rare instance, he made all the right choices, resulting in a perfect creative gem.

Frankly, I am content with the fact that I may never understand how he and his staff created this piece.