Currently, Mike Almquist (of lookingiswrong.com) and I have been drawing up some logo designs. This is not necessarily an easy task.
A film's logo can carry a lot of weight. There are instances when the logo might be the first image someone sees in association with a film. In this case, the logo is making the first impression. The audience is already identifying (or not identifying) with the film based solely on the sequence of letters they see before them. Ideally, then, the logo should be a visual representation of the soul of the film. It should both compliment and represent the film's aesthetic as well as it's spiritual identity. It can speak to the artist's tastes, inspirations, and awareness. This, of course, is ideal. Sometimes the logo is just a sequence of letters.
This does not mean that the logo need be fancy or over complicated. I have seen many successful animators simply trace Garamond a few times into an animation loop that is then juxtaposed over their opening shot. Though a relatively easy solution, this is not necessarily thoughtless. When this works, this style has a humble, homemade charm to it. It's quaint and warm, and can compliment a film whose artwork is pencil or watercolor based.
Even something bumped out in Comic Sans or Papyrus might, just might, live into a logo's full power (though, admittedly, it is unlikely), depending on the film. There are no rules, really. Art is organic and will be so long as it is produced by organisms. There are many great suggestions on how to feed, water, and grow your art, but each piece takes genesis in an entirely unique set of start conditions and as such is shaped mostly through the spontaneity and complexity of existence. Even craft is chaotic when contextualized. When we zoom out.

The above image is the first go I had at making a Burp's Christmas logo. I drew it rather hastily during the early days of what would become a long love affair with hand drawn, whimsical type face. It graces the front of our BC business cards, rendered in green ink instead of black, where, to be honest, it doesn't look half bad. But it will not do for our final feature.
I want the logo for Burp's Christmas to partially pay homage to Christmas script of yore. It is by now tradition for most Christmas films and stories to be adorned with a Dickensian style classicism. Curley cues and flourishes. The idea of the traditional English Christmas is such a powerful archetype that dominates a healthy portion of the general populations imagination of Christmas.
Let's take a look at some examples:


Of course there are many exceptions to this rule. A whacky, slapstick holiday comedy is more likely to use a shiny, modern bubble font to get their point across.
But regardless, there is something in the collective Christmas consciousness that anchors our modern celebration with tradition of the past. Humans are creatures of ritual, we crave them, though our manifestations of these cravings can and certainly do differ remarkably. We want to take communion with ghosts - those of the past, and those of our past selves. The season is littered with nostalgia and ruminations on 'days gone by'. The scents, the sights, most of them derive their power not necessarily for their immediate beauty, but by their inferences to the scents, sights, and perceptions of other times. This is bittersweet - the visceral sensation of emotionally experiencing linear time.
These ideas are part of the soul of Burp's Christmas, and it is only appropriate that the logo is scribed with such concepts pooled in the inkwell.
The first go at the BC logo attempted to do this, but ultimately failed because of my rookie capabilities in graphic design. It's true, in this avenue I am an amateur, at best. I know what I want, but I have yet to entirely develop the neural pathways that will allow my imagination to hit the pavement and find manifestation in reality.
So I passed the buck, kind of, to my dear friend Mike Almquist (who designed The Romantic's website, amongst many other beautiful tshirts, album covers, and posters for various musicians and bands). For direction I pointed him to some old UPA and 60s text design, which may have been bad advice on my part. I didn't want something modern, that's for sure. I did not want the flashy bubble letters I mentioned above. Or something that would be more at home on a dollar store Christmas coloring book.
Below are two examples he concocted:


Both are heading in the right direction, but are not quite there yet, and I'm afraid taking direction from me can sometimes be paradoxical. I envision a logo that is unique and new yet has in it's DNA the genetic heritage of "fonts of yesteryear". It must be whimsical, charming, and warm (the hot chocolate, fire in the fireplace, lights on the Christmas tree feeling); yet it must also carry some weight, power, and majesty (the mystery of the nativity, the choir of angels, the light in darkness). I'm not sure this is even entirely possible.
I took another shot at designing the logo myself, this time with a bit more experience under my belt. Here is the result:

What you see above isn't really a 'final draft'. It might be fancied up with some texture or glow effect. The colors aren't official (no, we won't be putting a blue rectangle with white interior font on all our materials). We'll probably add in a couple more snowflakes. But the lettering is done.
Not 100% there, but might be useful for the time being. Of course, we have til the end of production to really finalize our logo, but for now we need something to put on all our printed material for fundraising, etc.
As it is Thanksgiving, I shall leave you now so I can help my mom get the house in order for guests.
Hey, it's almost Christmas.
peace,
MPH