By Chris Hyde

January 29, 2004

A neglected Canadian animator is gets his due with a new DVD from Milestone Films.

For the length of its existence, the National Film Board of Canada has been a beneficial ally to filmmakers from America's great ally to the north. Established in 1939 after British documentarian John Grierson was invited over to give his recommendations for the industry, the Board's initial concern was in making films that would help the denizens of that sprawling nation both see and understand each other. The Board was also meant to unify the disparate film efforts underway in various government departments and farflung provinces. Once World War II rolled around, their attention of necessity turned mostly to movies that supported the Allies' attempts to win that global conflict. Following the war, however, the activities of the board broadened greatly and it was over the next couple of decades that Canada would become internationally known as one of the world's pioneering animation hotspots.

As far as representation on DVD to this point, though, much of this brilliant work has remained unavailable. For those of us old enough to remember having seen the name of the NFB crop up constantly on the 1970s PBS show The International Animation Festival, this has been a disappointment. But thankfully, the folks at Milestone Films have now begun to remedy this situation with releases covering two of the biggest names that emerged from under the rubric of this historic government entity. For one, they've released a two-disc Collector's Edition of the work of Norman McLaren, an animator who might very well be considered the greatest single filmmaker that Canada ever produced. Unfortunately, for some reason this disk seems to be in very short supply - as a late fall release it was available just prior to Christmas, but today seems to be sadly out of stock nearly everywhere I look. (Aside to Milestone: just crank up those DVD printing presses and I'll send in fifty bucks for this one). Happily, the company's disk of material from McLaren's friend and collaborator Grant Munro is much more widely available, so now fans can get a chance to see the work of this neglected figure of celluloid at last.

Though primarily an animator, director Munro was also sometimes involved in making live action and documentary films and this DVD represents the breadth of his work in excellent fashion. The body of the release consists of 13 short films of various styles, ranging from pure cartoonish drawing to pure documentary to fictional narrative. A couple of these animated shorts demonstrate a syncopated cut-out technique that dazzles with its jaunty technique; others use a now standard stop-motion time lapse approach that McLaren dubbed "pixilation." Though to today's video and CGI-jaundiced eyes this type of work may seem almost primitive, for the time in which these films were produced the work was startling in its execution. Additional films contained on the DVD are a watercolor tribute to the animal world, a live action trope on voting wherein Munro himself plays the hapless protagonist, a horror movie ripoff public service announcement on the evils of smoking and two documentaries: one a brief film on McLaren's work made late in that animator's life and the other an excellent straight look at a New Brunswick graveyard manager titled Boo Hoo. Lastly, two of the movies included are early collaborations between Munro and McLaren that were filmed but never finished; though incomplete these are a nice bonus as they give additional insight into the men's work during their most freewheeling period.

Though all the work shown throughout Cut-Up will hold attraction for anyone interested in independent animation or Grant Munro himself, there are undoubtedly some pieces that stand out here. Especially fascinating is Neighbours, a hilarious take on the cold war arms race that garnered McLaren and Munro the Academy Award for Best Short Film in 1952. Yet another incisive take on war is the 1966 film Toys, a jazzy and cutting glimpse at the way children's playthings help engage them in battlefield mores. In the hands of a lesser filmmaker, a short like this could be but a politically correct polemic; but with the careful guiding hand of a true artist like Munro it's a colorful minefield of animated emotion. One other bit of animation that stands out among all this excellence is Christmas Cracker from 1962, a humorous little number that actually shows off the varying styles of a few of the animators who worked for the National Film Board of Canada.

Not content with simply showing us the impressive work of Grant Munro, Milestone has outdone itself by accompanying the director's movies with copious amounts of additional interview material. On the first disc, a lengthy commentary track plays over the full run of films in which the filmmaker expounds on his life and work. A second DVD contains discussion specific to each individual item, and though some of this is just a repeat of the information from the other commentary there's enough additional data given here to warrant a listen. Other extras found on disk two are a stills gallery, some flipbooks from tests that were done for The Animal Movie and a DVD-ROM supplement that has lots of press kit stuff that's wonderful to peruse.

All in all, this new Milestone release is certainly a worthwhile archival collection of the life work of a truly outstanding personage from the history of animation. Though now mostly forgotten, the quality of the shorts on display here marks Grant Munro as someone who should not be neglected when considering the impressive influence that the National Film Board of Canada wielded during their heyday as one of the globe's most spectacular producers of animated film. The landmark work of both Munro and his colleague Norman McLaren is oft overlooked in historic discussions of animated art that are far too often dominated by the important -- but far more commercial - films that emerged from industries in the United States and Japan. This particular disk goes some way towards remedying a situation where some real groundbreakers are sadly lost in the wake of the better-known cartoon juggernauts. Now, if only someone would make a DVD compilation of work from the Zagreb school we'd really be making some progress.