#us animation

"I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel."

A Charlie Brown Christmas, 1965.

Sinking of the Lusitania

Winsor McCay

USA, 1918

(originally silent, here with a score by HESPERUS)

On May 7th 1915, in the midst of World War One, the British ocean liner RMS Lusitania was struck by a torpedo shot from an Imperial German U-boat. Germany had issued warnings that ships sailing under UK banners would be treated as hostile in the maritime warzone, and would be attacked to enforce the naval blockade, but evidently the risk of an ocean liner transporting civilians to the USA becoming a target was considered low enough for the Lusitania to set sail.

The Germans made good on their word. More recent research reveals the Lusitania may have been carrying ammunition as well as passengers, thus making it a military target, but it is hard to argue that the lives lost were of no consequence. 761 people survived out of the 1,266 passengers and 696 crew aboard. 123 of the casualties were American citizens.

At the time, the US had not yet joined the war. Propaganda offices seized this opportunity to rally for it: the public was understandably disgusted by Germany’s attack on what was ostensibly a ship full of civilians. The author of the Little Nemo comic strip and celebrated animator Winsor McCay was deeply struck by the story and the loss of life. He poured his outrage into what may be considered the first animated documentary .

And he did so on his own time and dime- his current employer, wealthy businessman William Randolph Hearst (the inspiration for Citizen Kane) was opposed to the US joining World War One, and so preferred to placate public opinion rather than embrace their horror. He had hired McCay to illustrate anti-war cartoons and propaganda for his newspapers, not rouse people against „the Huns”.

McCay rebelled, and set to work on the Sinking, financing it out of his own pocket. It’s worth noting that even in this heartfelt patriotic production, he does not miss an opportunity to tout himself as the „originator and inventor of Animated Cartoons,” a title he frequently applied to himself. It was not true, but it might have felt so for McCay. He was one of the pioneers.

Using all techniques available to him including the brand new method of painting on transparent cels, McCay created an animated account of the tragedy in a form much resembling a newsreel of the time. The film begins with a live action sequence showing him researching the incident, consulting with August Beach (a reporter who had been the first on the scene) and studying a scale model of the ship. McCay evidently took pains to ensure his retelling was as accurate as possible, even as he made it strikingly emotional. It took him over two years to complete, assisted by friends and working in his off hours while still obligated by a contract with Hearst.

This was still the silent era, so facts about the ship and a play by play were printed on the intertitle cards, with McCay’s smooth, sombre animation showing the ship’s doomed voyage. The film lasts twelve minutes- at the time, the longest animation ever produced. It took the Lusitania eighteen minutes to sink. Fittingly, the animation feels at once slow and excruciating, and unexpectedly quick. Blink, and you will miss the moment the ship goes down, but McCay’s art rends the heart. The waves and smoke billow, the water laps around the vanishing hull in terrifying silence. Lifeboats and bodies float in the sea.

"So, here is a riddle to guess if you can..."

The Hunchback of Notre Dame, 1996.

“Dreams do come true in New Orleans.”

The Princess and the Frog, 2009.