Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Paper Airplanes and Elegant Art

Have you seen Paperman? If not, stop whatever you're doing right now, go get the Wreck it Ralph DVD, skip the meh movie, and watch the short in the special features. I'll wait.

Back already? Watched it? Yeah, I don't believe you. Fortunately, there's a summary below.

In 2012 Paperman was the first Disney short to win an Academy Award in over 40 years. While I don't usually pay attention to award nominees, particularly in the smaller categories, for some reason I clicked on the video and fell in love. Paperman is storytelling at its most elegant.

Elegance personified


George is a fairly average guy, waiting for the train to take him to the job he endures. Not especially handsome or charismatic, he's a little shy, a little insecure. But deep down, aren't most of us? So he's mortified when one of his papers blows away and smacks another commuter right in the face. He gently pulls the paper back from where the wind is still pinning it her, to see that this isn't just any commuter. It's very cute commuter.

Cute personified
Instead of being upset, however, Meg snort-laughs when she sees the imprint of her lipstick on the paper. And isn't that what we all want? Someone who can see the humor in life's awkward moments? But while George is still laughing, Meg does the practical thing (darn women!) and gets on the train, leaving George standing on the platform alone.

Already, we feel a connection to these characters. I've come to realize that every good story is about relationships, the need to connect with something or someone outside of ourselves. Paperman is more than just "Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy [spoiler!] gets girl back." This little story is about two people building a connection. And I don't think audiences always want to live vicariously through other characters. Sometimes, I think we just like to see other people be happy.

George goes to his onerous job, clearly depressed. But what's this? Through the window, he can see Meg in the office building across the street! He can't call out to her or he'll get in trouble. So he looks to the mountain of papers on his desk and finds inspiration. Soon, paper airplanes are sailing toward her building. Most miss, some are intercepted, one lands on the desk of the man working a floor below.

"I will crush your airplane, as well as your hopes."
I sometimes think about this guy. When the airplane first lands on his desk he smiles, looking out the window hopefully to see who sent it to him. But realizing that it wasn't meant for him, he angrily wads it up and throws it back out the window. I feel sorry for him, and the severed connection between him and George.

Airplane after airplane sails across the void, when George reaches for another sheet of paper and realizes that he only has one left.

The impossible choice
This single piece of paper has been given value by both George and Meg. We as an audience know its worth, and we don't want to see George lose his one tangible connection to Meg. But if he doesn't risk everything, he'll lose her forever. So he carefully folds it, steps up to the window for his final attempt... and drops it. George is crushed. All is lost. His dream just died.

If you pause the video, you'll notice that we are at the exact center of the movie. In screenwriting terms, this is called the "midpoint" (clever, huh?) and is usually the moment when the hero looks done for. Just because this isn't an action epic, doesn't mean that the elements of good story-structure aren't there, simmering below the surface. While theory is often used for by-the-numbers plotting, it's still useful for keeping our stories on track.

Do the zombie walk!
I won't summarize the rest of the story beats. Suffice to say, a bit of literal Disney magic intervenes, bringing them back to the train platform where our whole story began. Meg smiles shyly and touches her hair (something body language experts believe to signify attraction). Now we know for sure... she likes him too.

Every time I watch this I get a little misty-eyed. Good art stirs up strong emotions. Everything about this short is perfect: the animation, the sound design, the pacing, the music. Each element complements the others to create something beautiful. I'm overwhelmed by the craftsmanship of this piece. And now that it's been pointed out, I hope you can see it all too.


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1 comment:

  1. Great review! I have no doubt this is a touching little short.

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