The Mole and the Medicine: heart-warming film about a resourceful and fearless little hero

Zdenek Miler, “The Mole and the Medicine / Krtek a medicina / Kiskavond es a gyogyszer” (1987)

Found on Youtube under its Hungarian title, this episode of the Krtecek series sees our hero off to foreign lands and climes in search of a herbal medicine to cure his friend Mouse of a high fever. Doctor Owl diagnoses a bad cold and prescribes matricaria and chamomile as the cure so Krtek eagerly sets off in search of the herbs. His journey takes him to Africa where he has many adventures with a lion, a giraffe, an elephant, a caterpillar and a carnivorous plant. A hot-air balloon sends him to Australia, land of rabbits, kangaroos and a polar bear that’s just run away from the zoo. A whale carries them both to the polar regions where the bear introduces Krtek to his wife and kids. They pop him on an ice floe and send him off to yet another foreign country where he comes across a conservatory looked after by a caretaker mole. His new best friend takes him to the airport and sends him home. Safely back in his own community, Krtek informs Doctor Owl that his journey to find the herbs has been in vain, only to be told that the matricaria and chamomile are growing beside his little mole mound! Happy at last, Krtek brews a herbal drink for Mouse and the two pals are soon reunited.

The episode is an opportunity for Miler and his team to show off their skill at painting plants in their two-dimensional details, yet not so technically exact that the plants threaten to steal the show from Krtek. The Venus fly-trap comes close to upstaging our hero but it’s all in good fun. The film’s original plot shines especially in the links between one country and the next: Krtek does good deeds for fish trapped in a basket and a caterpillar trapped in rapids and he is repaid in kind. Strange creatures big and small offer him hospitality and do all they can to help him though they haven’t a clue what matricaria and chamomile might be. A really loopy moment comes when he sniffs an orange flower and the perfume sends him floating (and later an elephant) up to the heavens – literally. Dialogue as usual is kept to the minimum needed for the film – “Hallo!”,  “Ahoy!” and “Chamomila?” are the words heard most often. The music is gentle and relaxed and the accordion melody reminds me of old cartoons set in Gay Paris or the French Riviera of the 1950s though Krtek never goes anywhere near La Belle France.

The highlight of the film really is the flora featured as Krtek examines each and every flower and herb he sees, and every plant seems to have its own individuality no matter how simply it is portrayed. Insects are also among the stars here and even an octopus gets a shoo-in.

If there’s a message for families and small children, it is that one should never be afraid to ask for help and to venture afar to help a good friend, and one can have fun and make new friends no matter how different they are. A very beautiful and endearing film about a resourceful and fearless little animal, “The Mole and the Medicine” is highly recommended viewing.

Krtek the Multi-talented Mole tries different occupations in near-abstract / experimental shorts

Zdenek Miler, “The Mole as a Chemist / The Mole as Painter / The Mole as Photographer / The Mole as Watchmaker” (1972 – 1975)

By the mid-1970s, Krtek the Mole was nearly 20 years old so it seemed right that he should start looking for gainful employment. In this quartet of short pieces made from 1972 to 1975, he tests different roles for size and although he’s quite good at a couple, he doesn’t last beyond one short and at the end of all of them, Krtek is back to digging ditches.

In the 5-minute short “The Mole as Photographer”, our friend Krtek acquires a camera from a mouse and immediately starts taking pictures of a family of frogs – but the camera plays up on him and he is reduced to drawing pictures of the family. Soon all the animals want portraits done and they drive the little fella nuts as he tries to keep up with all their demands.

Krtek digs his way into a warehouse of chemistry sets in “The Mole as a Chemist” and finds a set to play with. Predictably the mix of chemicals he makes threatens to explode so he hides the test-tube in a box, from which geometric shapes in different colours burst out. He assembles the pieces into a car, then a wheel, then a mobile castle with towers, but all of them quickly get out of control and he ends up spraying the box with the test-tude with a neutraliser he finds in the original set. Everything the box spews out turns into bubbles and Krtek is relieved that the mess he created soon disappears.

In “The Mole as Watchmaker”, Krtek finds an unlikely new friend in a mechanical cuckoo he finds in a clock set up in a tree. At first the cuckoo annoys him so he tries to teach the bird a lesson in manners and ends up crashing the clock onto the ground. He puts it back together to revive the comatose cuckoo and in no time at all the clock is in perfect working order and the cuckoo revives.

The longest of the four, “The Mole as Painter”, Krtek and his friends paint themselves and the forest with various paints they find in discarded cans in order to torment a fox that’s been harassing them all. Faced with a psychedelic scene, Reynard panicks and runs off. The rains come and wash all the brilliant colours and patterns away and the animals celebrate Reynard’s permanent banishment.

IN all these little animated situation comedies, there’s often a moral about co-operation and mutual benefit, being kind to others and helping them, or messing about with dangerous and unknown things. The most ordinary situation is bursting with original creative potential: a set of chemicals and equipment generates strange and wonderful shapes and colours and a forgotten set of paints provides an opportunity to render one’s home in crazy cacophonies of colour. “The Mole as Painter” must have had particular resonance for Miler who originally trained as a painter before the Second World War disrupted as career.

As with other Krtek shorts, these cartoons have beautifully painted background scenery and “The Mole as Painter” goes to town on this as the animals paint spots, lines, patterns and spirals all over one another and over the trees, flowers and grass. The style of animation is appropriately minimal if somewhat old-fashioned for the period but it suits Miler’s purposes in teaching young viewers about colour and creativity and a couple of shorts featured here acquire an abstract and experimental look and feel.

The music is significant to the shorts and often features whistling and cheery accordion melodies.

All cartoons are recommended for families with young (and not-so-young!) children. The educational purpose is quite subtle and the mood is usually happy and optimistic without being sentimental or treacly.



The Mole and the Robot / The Mole and the Rocket / The Mole as a Gardener: lessons in co-operation for little people

Zdenek Miler, “The Mole and the Robot”(1995) / “The Mole and the Rocket” (1966) / “The Mole as a Gardener” (1969)

Let’s turn to a 5-minute charmer in which our friend Krtek acquires a robot to help him do all his hard work. After nearly putting his back out tunnelling and shovelling dirt as moles do, Krtek finds a rare diamond and goes into town to sell it. He returns home with a huge parcel, opens it, reads the instructions and brings out a boxy contraption that converts into a robot when Krtek presses a button on remote control device. The robot does Krtek’s bidding, tunnelling and shovelling you-know-what and Krtek admires its work. As he’s had a long day, Krtek goes to sleep outside his mound. Two mice take advantage of his slumber to program the robot into stealing food and drink for them. Krtek soon finds out what’s been going on behind his back so he orders his robot servant to find a solution to rid him of those pesky rodents.

A little more adventurous is an 8-minute episode in which Krtek comes across a rocket and flies off in the air. The engine sputters and the rocket falls and crashes on a tiny island strewn with shells. After despairing that he will never return home, Krtek is found and befriended by a crab who helps him recover the remains of the rocket and rebuild it. Several other creatures like jellyfish and seahorses also scout about and retrieve bits and pieces. Just as the rocket is rebuilt, a snorkelling boy intrudes on them and attempts to stop Krtek from returning home but our mole has a narrow escape and sails off happily into the sunset.

In “The Mole as a Gardener”, Krtek tussles with a rogue garden hose that turns out to be blocked in its middle. A mouse helps Krtek to redirect the water in the burst hose to the flowers that need it as the weather is hot and the delicate plants are wilting in the heat. Krtek digs a channel to and around the flowers and the mouse directs the water into the channel dug.

In these shorts in which Krtek confronts an aspect of human technology and uses it not just to benefit himself but to help others and along the way acquire new friends, there’s a subtle little message about the value of people working together to achieve common goals and what happens to people if they steal things and use them for selfish purposes. The tone is always cheerful, everyone receives his or her just deserts and any sticky situation Krtek finds himself is resolved through his resourcefulness, quick thinking and hard work. As always in these shorts, there is plenty of detailed (but not too technical) drawing and sketching, the background scenes are lovingly rendered in soft colours, the mood is always bright and the action fast-paced. There’s very little violence, apart from when the mouse reshapes Krtek’s accidentally misshapen head after an unfortunate encounter with a woodwind instrument in the 1969 cartoon.

The Mole in a Dream: children’s animation short verges on surreal and sci-fi / apocalyptic

Zdenek Miler, “The Mole in a Dream / Krtek ve Snu” (1985)

Another film episode in the life of Krtek the Mole and this one’s a real doozy verging on the near-surreal and sci-fi / post-apocalyptic. I gotta wonder whether Miler was high on hallucinogens at the time he made this little classic. This time the focus is on an unnamed human adult male who meets Krtek and this gives animator Miler a chance to show he can do more than paint lovely forest and flower backgrounds and write little kiddie stories about Krtek and his animal pals. One fine sunny day Krtek emerges out of hibernation underground and watches peak hour traffic; he’s bemused at the sight of a motorist’s car stopping due to a flat tyre and the motorist getting out and, by remote control on a handheld computerised transistor radio box, commands the car to replace the flat tyre with a spare. Intrigued, Krtek hitches a ride on the car and is taken back to the motorist’s house which is completely computer-controlled and can do its own cooking, cleaning and caring for its occupants. There the man has dinner and a bath, and then settles down in front of the TV to watch a pop music program. Krtek gets himself a free meal in the man’s house while its owner, oblivious to his presence, falls asleep and has a dream.

In the dream, the house malfunctions and the man has to call the tradesman to come and fix the central control unit in the basement. Unbeknownst to him as he lives in the countryside, civilisation has broken down and the man near freezes to death while waiting for the tradie. Krtek and his friends (Hare, Hedgehog) take pity on the man by lighting a fire in his house, warming and reviving him. Excitedly the man chops ups all the furniture in the house to keep himself and his new animal companions warm. A bear – we’ll call him Bear – joins them all and they teach the man how to survive in the forest. They kindly find him a goat that can give him milk. A lion joins them all and as winter makes way for spring, they find an old gramophone player with a record and start playing music and dancing in a circle as if performing a spring celebration rite. A mammoth tries to join the party and near flattens the man and at this point he wakes up.

As with other Krtek cartoons I’ve seen, the animation style is kept minimal while at the same time it portrays objects and backgrounds in considerable technical detail, though not too much so for young viewers and for 1980s-era animation purposes. In those days, animators were still working with pen and paper and, in Miler’s case, paintings. (With CGI now, we may have lost a lot of the whimsical charm of cartoons like the Krtek series.) The animation enables Miler to show how a smart house might operate: the man in the film presses a button and talks into his transistor box and an assembly line delivers him food and drink, and cleans up the dishes – and Krtek by accident who ends up bleached and pressed into a template along with the crockery and cutlery; fortunately Mouse comes by and sprays black shoe polish over him.

There is a little message about how humans can learn to live in harmony with nature and how cocooning yourself in automated comfort can put you at risk of danger and death if technology breaks down. Nature can be harsh but also offers help if one learns to be resourceful (and Krtek is a very resourceful little fella!) and reaches out for assistance from others and co-operates with them. Situational humour arises in most parts of the film though there are a few unexpected scenes where the action is forced: a lion comes by, storks kidnap Krtek, a Tree of Life sprouts through and destroys the man’s house; I know we are watching a dream which has its own logic but still, my conservative mind finds the lion and the mammoth a little jarring. Lots of little Chekhovian guns abound to serve as linchpins for plot development or the preservation of personal dignity: a carpet gets burned early on with a big hole in the middle so the man uses it as a poncho, having lost all his clothes to a wild boar. Once the gramophone appears on the scene, the animals play with it but you know eventually they’re going to fiddle with the stylus and force it play the old shellac record.

Without a doubt this is the kookiest and funniest Krtek film I’ve seen so far and I want to see more! There are full-frontal nudity scenes (oh my!) and lots of gentle slapstick but no violence. The music is varied and ranges from acoustic instrumentation for most of the film to near-trance tribal electro-acoustic music at the end where the animals and the man dance in a circle. I’m amazed that censors in Czechoslovakia overlooked that neo-primitive shamanistic aspect of the film. I heartily recommend this film for all age groups, even the very young under-18s.

How the Mole got his Pants: charming little short on making flax that set off a phenomenon

Zdenek Miler, “How the Mole got his Pants / Jak krtek ke kalhotkám prišel” (1957)

As it turns out, I’ve stumbled across the famous series of cartoons about Krtek the Mole that animator Zdenek Miler made over a period spanning 45 years, starting with “How the Mole got his Pants” in 1957. This first cartoon is a little charmer about how flax is spun and how clothing can be made from it.  Our little pal Krtek needs something to carry various tools in so he can perform his handy-man jobs and he gets the idea for a pair of overalls with deep pockets. He enlists the help of various animals like a lobster, a bird, a hedgehog and several species of insects to help him grow the plants, harvest the raw material and beat it, and then weave it into cloth. The plot is highly inventive with a very endearing scene of little bugs organising themselves into little work teams to set up the loom, throw the shuttle and weave the material for the overalls.

In contrast to the earlier cartoon I saw, “The Mole and the Clock / Krtek na hodiny”, this piece includes voice-over narration (the version I saw on Youtube was in German) which is helpful as the plot by itself is not clear with respect to all the details of flax production and needs more explication by voice, either in voice-over narrative or by having the animals speak to one another. I believe it was with the second cartoon in the series that Miler decided to do away with spoken voice altogether and just use his daughters’ voices to create sound effects such as laughter to emphasise the mood of particular scenes. The music here takes secondary place to the voice-over and tends to illustrate the mood of a particular passage, follow actions or call attention to a development in the plot.

The animation is deceptively simple but look closely and you’ll see the backgrounds and forest settings are beautifully rendered in pale green, blue and brown watercolours with very detailed portrayals of plants and flowers. Those viewers interested in painting or portraying scenes of nature and still life pictures of flowers, trees, other plants and of objects like looms should take note of the clinically yet minimally delineated two-dimensional background settings: they are obviously down-scaled for children’s perceptions but adults can find much to admire in the way individual flowers and trees are sketched and filled in. The technical minutiae of the flax-making scene are wonderfully drawn and depicted fairly accurately with all the little beetles tirelessly working together to set up the loom and make the cloth.

The Krtek series enjoyed tremendous success across eastern Europe and the Soviet Union and was exported to Germany, India and China as well. It is only very recently that the series has become known in the English-speaking world and already a commercial campaign to sell the series with Krtek dolls made up is beginning in the United States. Not that Krtek needs much to sell his charms. Curiously with his rounded head and ski-slope profile he resembles Josef Lada’s drawings of the famous soldier Švejk in Jaroslav Hašek’s famous novel “The Good Soldier Švejk” and that cannot be merely coincidental as Krtek is as obliging and resourceful as that lovable dog-catcher rogue.

Krtek a Hodiny: amusing children’s animated film hides a moral about industrialisation’s effects on humans

Zdenek Miler, “Krtek a Hodiny” (1995)

Found this 28-minute cartoon on Youtube while looking for Latvian animated shorts which compared to the abundance of Estonian animated films I found last month (July 2012) appear very scarce and what there is, is made for children’s television. This work is also aimed at children but at nearly 30 minutes in length, it seems a mighty stretch for littlies’ attention span. Just as well though that it has a strong story-line in which the three main characters – Mole, Rat and Rabbit, all with wide, startled-looking eyes and perennially cheerful expressions – come across an alarm clock that’s just fallen off the back of a truck travelling through their forest home. After a few surprises, the trio rapidly accustom themselves to the clock and the daily routines it forces on them while other animals in the forest, especially the family of owls, must put up with the discomfort of the constant ticking that upsets their sleep and other circadian rhythms. Over time though, Mole, Rat and Rabbit find themselves enslaved to the clock’s demands of constant exercise and work, and the other animals become increasingly distressed by the clock having taken over their friends’ lives until one animal decides to get rid of the clock once and for all.

The action is completely silent save for the sound of children’s laughter when the animals are happy and the occasional tears when they’re sad. Cheery accordion and other instrumental music accompanies the action. The animation looks ingeniously simple, at least until your glance starts wandering over the forest backgrounds and it’s here that the film’s charm is displayed in full glory: the painted  backgrounds are beautifully and lovingly rendered and coloured in a small-scale, homely and friendly folksy way. The paintings looks as if they are in watercolour and the emphasis on pale washed-out greens and blues contrasts with the animals’ stronger browns, blacks, greys and other block colours.

The story didn’t completely pan out to my satisfaction: Mole, Rat and Rabbit should at least have acknowledged that the clock had them in its slave-master grip and should have been made aware of the upset the other forest denizens were experiencing and the estrangement between themselves and the other animals that was developing as a result. Co-operation is a major theme here and all the animals could have been shown as agreeing that the clock is the source of their problems and tensions so they could all work towards ridding themselves of their unwanted guest. The clock itself appears friendly but its face betrays no expression; it’s a completely ambivalent being. A little moral might be present: if it’s very easy for Mole, Rat and Rabbit to fall into a trap created by the clock, so it may be easy also for humans to let their lives become debased by machine routines and that at the end of the day, it’s not how much activity and work you pack into a set period, it’s how you enjoy what you do and having time to play and be friends with others that count.

The film can be found on Youtube as “Kurmis un modinatajpulkstenis”, its Latvian name. There are other animated shorts about Mole and his friends that have been uploaded in Czech, German and Hungarian.

Jabberwocky: meditation on growing up, conforming and assuming adult responsibilities

Jan Svankmajer, “Jabberwocky / Zvahlav aneb Saticky Slameneho Huberta” (1971)

Inspired by the Lewis Carroll poem of the same name, and which it dispenses with early on, this stop-motion animation short is a meditation on growing up, getting chewed through the sausage machine of school and assuming adult responsibilities while all the while trying to figure out a plan of escape that is consistently thwarted by greater forces in society. Although the stories told here look superficially like stories for children, there are suggestions of cruelty, meanness and misery that may puzzle or upset young children and which are really intended to be understood by adults.The music by Zdenek Liska is a beautiful and at times whimsical accompaniment to the film.

The film is only loosely based on the poem “Jabberwocky”: after the child’s voice finishes the recitation, the film shoots off on its own trajectory of the joy of early childhood celebrated by a dancing sailor suit which is suddenly trapped by sprouting tree canopies that drop fruit full of worms, followed by dolls emerging from their mother in the manner of maggots leaving behind a shell that was once their victim. The dolls are put through school, assembly-line style, and fall into a mincer which churns them out into flattened pieces. An iron comes and works the pieces over into miniature fashion mannequins. Exquisite china dolls sit at dinner: mum feeds the baby and wacks the older child while her companion chows down on a soup of amputated body parts.

The most memorable parts of the film include the scene of the somersaulting knife which unfortunately is forced into suicide, and repeating scenes of a line trying to trace a path through a maze before a black cat blunders into it from behind. Building blocks assemble to form Victorian illustrations. At last the line finds its path and scribbles all over a portrait of an elderly gent before flying through a nearby window to celebrate freedom.

Movement is quick and breezy and the entire atmosphere of “Jabberwocky” looks bright and energetic with jerky objects hardly ever still and many surprises and shocks in store: a doll gives birth to numerous tiny clones, the sailor suit mistreats a rocking-horse into bucking, the cat ends up stuck in a tiny cage. These shocks may be interpreted as examples of how cruel and nasty children can be to one another or as a general example of the unfairness of adult life or life generally. The film brims with busyness and viewers may be left behind trying to read too much story into the film.

While the stop-motion animation work is excellent, I did think that for its subject the film was a few minutes too long – the dancing knife scene could have been edited to be shorter and the scene with the sailor-suit harassing the rocking-horse could also have been truncated – and the origami scene was rather repetitive for what it was. Svankmajer has made better films than this though it’s not bad generally. I’d have preferred something a bit more whimsical, a bit sadder and with an ending of heroic failure.

Dimensions in Dialogue: three types of communication satirise society and politics

Jan Svankmajer, “Dimensions in Dialogue / Moznosti Dialogu” (1982)

Hilarious three-part stop-motion animated film that investigates communication breakdown in its various forms, “Dimensions in Dialogue” is a famous Svankmajer classic. In two sections of the film, claymation is used; in a third, the figures are composites of objects made up in a cross-sectional style reminiscent of 16th-century Italian artist Giuseppe Arcimboldo’s paintings of famous figures of his day portrayed in fruit and vegetable forms.

In “Exhaustive Discussion”, three heads made of food, tools and arty items (which may represent different areas of human endeavour: agriculture, industry and culture) mash one another in a rock-scissors-paper game continuously until all three heads end up looking exactly the same. This section suggests that when people of different backgrounds and opinions butt heads in a forum – it might be politics, for example – they end up expressing the same opinions: hilarious on one level, sinister on another.

In “Passionate Discourse”, a clay man and woman fall in love and dissolve into each other sexually but later argue over a ball of clay and tear each other into a boiling lump of pulp. At a personal level this part comments on male-female relations and on the consequences of falling in love: the couple ends up with a baby which complicates their relationship. The baby at first is rejected by its parents, then it manipulates one parent against the other and both adults fall into mutual back-stabbing. On a wider level, the section comments on groups, insitutions or political parties joining in coalition, creating something they can’t handle and which they want to disown, and then falling out when the monster they have created  – a revolution perhaps – refuses to go away.

“Factual Conversation” sees two elderly clay heads facing off against each other and each offering the other an object on his tongue with the other in turn offering an object that complements the first: toothbrush complements toothpaste, shoe complements shoelace, bread complements a knife with butter, pencil complements sharpener. Needless to say, the heads get cross and get their objects mixed up: knife smears butter all over shoe and pencil sharpener hoes straight into the toothpaste. Each time a round of offering objects is completed, the two heads become bloated and their features start to melt away. By the time the heads complete the last round of offers in which knife duels with knife, two shoelaces are tied in knots, bread mashes bread into crumbs and pencil sharpeners all but destroy each other, there are just two exhausted mounds of clay just about ready to explode. It seems that even when conversationalists have similar or complementary interests and stories to tell, they can still end up arguing and fighting each other viciously.

Quick edits, fast and choppy close-ups and frenzied, jerky animation in “Exhaustive Discussion” bring urgency and a strong sense of conflict into all three animated sections. The music soundtrack is droll but never intrusive.

The film may be a satire on society in Czechslovakia in the early 1980s: a country disillusioned with and weary of Communism but unable to put into effect a better society as various factions talk over one another and end up fighting even though they more or less agree on the kind of society they need and may have good ideas in common. By fighting, they reduce themselves to the lowest common denominator of conformity and none can step outside its narrow point of view or the paradigm in which they are fighting, in order to find an alternative path to agreement and co-operation.

Stairs: a deceptively simple film with a deep and powerful message about finding meaning and purpose in an alienated life

Stefan Schabenbeck, “Stairs / Schody” (1969)

A minimalist claymation 7-minute piece, “Stairs” is one of those teeny-tiny classics about the human search for meaning in life and the often fruitless efforts one puts into finding that meaning only to get no answer or a strange one. A little figure is mooching along the sand when he (we’ll call the figure a “he” for the sake of convenience) sees a raised platform so he steps onto it. He comes across another raised platform so he steps onto that one as well … only see more such raised platforms, all layered over one another in the form of stairs. He eagerly investigates these stairs and discovers himself lost in a maze of stairs leading upwards or downwards in random ways. He determinedly wanders all over the terraced landscape, trying to find the highest point of these stairs – but the only problem is whether his body and spirit will give out before he finds the staircase of all staircases, overseeing its ziggurat dominion, and discovers the whole raison d’etre for this massive tiered sculpture.

Comparable to a much later Polish animation, Tomasz Baginski’s “The Cathedral”, “Stairs” is as barebones in its style and story-telling as can be: the trumpet-dominated music follows the travails of the little character and reflects something of his frustrations in its melodies and plaintive tones. Although the film might seem long for its 7 minutes due to its narrow focus, there is a reason for that apparent obsession: the journey is hard and arduous, the character cannot go back or retrace his steps but must continue his quest, and the whole lanscape around him is seen to be unforgiving. There may very well be a hidden commentary about navigating one’s way through a brutal and uncaring bureaucratic society or trying to find meaning in one’s life when everything around is indifferent. Because the film is so minimalist in its theme and presentation, and lacks a context the viewer can relate to, it becomes timeless: viewers can attribute whatever message that seems most relevant to them to the film and the film communicates that message back so well. Having seen “The Cathedral”, I imputed the message of that film to “Stairs” but had I seen something else with a different message and theme but a similar story, I might have interpreted “Stairs” very differently.

Deceptively simple but very powerful indeed.

Crime and Punishment (dir. Piotr Dumala): unusual and subtle animation no substitute for lack of plot and unsatisfactory resolution

Piotr Dumala, “Crime and Punishment / Zbrodnia i Kara” (2000)

The style of animation associated with Piotr Dumala is unusual and often emotionally intense: using plasterboard painted in black under a camera, he scratches white lines with a needle and creates drawings with considerable line-hatching to achieve a 3-D effect and subtlety in mood and changes of mood. By necessity at times, there is a strong emphasis on negative shapes and outlining, shading of characters and objects, shadows and night-time: overall, a suitable background context in which sinister, almost unconscious events can take place away from the public gaze. The look of Dumala’s films can be fragile: characters appear to be sensitive, existentially tormented people and objects, even buildings, seem impermanent in keeping with the animator’s aim to present the unsteady inner life of his main student character before and after the crime he commits.

“Crime and Punishment” is very loosely based on the original Fyodor Dostoyevsky novel. Although the film short in itself is technically accomplished, its plot is very weakly developed: it builds up quite slowly to the central student character’s killing of the old woman and her sister and thereafter falls apart. No attempt on Dumala’s part to portray the student’s internal anguish and guilt over killing the two women, no young woman to offer comfort to the student (and in so doing, add to his turmoil as he wrestles with his conscience) and an anti-climax in which the student finally gives himself up to the authorities, is tried, convicted and banished to several years’ hard labour in a Siberian camp … all this completely disappears. It becomes obvious that the novel serves mainly as inspiration for Dumala’s own superficial version in which animation artfully demonstrates emotion and changes in emotion; the film is little more than an unusual art film. In this version, the student anti-hero appears to be tempted or provoked by an older man, who may or may not be Satan in disguise, to carry out the crime; the student later feels remorse, some depression and loneliness and is driven to kill himself. There is not much character development here and viewers won’t feel much sympathy for the student. Given that Dumala by 2000 had nearly 20 years’ animation experience, the lack of a definite story narrative, whether linear or not, is a complete disappointment. While Dumala is at liberty to reject large chunks of the Dostoyevsky novel as it suits, by throwing out most of it he has ended up with a story that is banal. A man takes his time agonising whether he should dock a horrible woman, does so almost by accident and spends the rest of the film feeling guilty

The pace of the story is slow and much attention given to the slightest of movements which reflect internal emotional states; eyes and faces in particular are rendered finely and sensitively, and have a very sharp sculptured appearance. No dialogue appears and the whole film is carried by a piano-dominated musical soundtrack. The city landscapes are spooky: there’s no hustle and bustle on the streets, horse-drawn carriages are uncommon and people, on crossing a bridge over a river, make gesticulations and other movements that suggest they might throw themselves over the edge of the bridge! All the splendid artwork Dumala does here is a mind-boggling labour of love: I can’t imagine his particular style of destructive animation readily lends itself to quick, easy work – but his obsession with his form of animation means he neglects the film as a story-telling vehicle.

“Crime and Punishment” could have been a very great film indeed if Dumala had drawn more inspiration from the novel and maybe developed the film short’s plot further so it includes redemption or at least an attempt to reconcile the families and connections of the student and his victims.