Thursday, November 25, 2010

Designing our Logo

Well, folks, our first stage of this production is rapidly coming to an end. Soon we will be making our investor's portfolios and we'll shift into our next phase.

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

Monday, November 15, 2010

A Producer's Title, and What it Means

As I discussed in my last post, there are many mysteries surrounding who the producer actually is, and what it is that they do. You've probably noticed while watching television or a movie that there are many different titles that include the word "producer." So what does each different producer do? What do these titles mean, exactly?

The most commonly used producing titles include executive producer, producer, co-producer, line producer, and associate producer. You may also have seen titles such as supervising producer, consulting producer, or creative producer, as well as many others. Hypothetically, titles are awarded based on experience and the amount of work the individual actually does. However, these days, the title often reflects what the individual's agent or manager was able to negotiate. This is especially common in the case of the executive producer credit. For the purposes of this post, however, we will look at the traditional description of what these titles most commonly mean.

Beyond a producer's title lie variations in the job that the individual performs. As explained in the book Producing Animation,  the producer's job description can be broken down into three different categories: "deal-maker," "facilitator," and "creative." The first type, the "deal-maker," gathers together the talent, the finances, and the material. They usually have little to no creative input. The "facilitator" is very hands-on during production, and with his or her staff, oversees the completion of the project. The "creative" producer is involved in the creative decision making, as the title suggests. These three categories can aid in understanding what the different producer titles mean.

While the executive producer title can mean many different things based on the type of production, they are almost always "deal-makers." They may be responsible for bringing together key players, securing or providing financing, monitoring progress of production, or liaising between a studio and a production. Many times, studio executives are awarded executive producer credits for identifying new material or talent. In some cases, especially television, the executive producer oversees the entire project from both the creative and the operational angles. Many executive producers are involved creatively, as well.

The producer title is most similar to the "facilitator." They are usually on their feet, making things happen. They are responsible for creating a budget, developing a schedule, and hiring a crew. The producer ensures that the vision of the director, the studio, and other key players comes to life, on time and within its budget. They are also usually involved creatively, especially in feature films.

The line producer also falls within the "facilitator" category. This person is brought on to a project once a production schedule is set and ready to go, to assist the producer in making sure the production runs smoothly and stays on schedule. They have no creative input on the production, but they are present and involved in the logistics of almost every aspect of the production. In the case of Burp's Christmas, there will most likely not be a line producer, as we are planning to have a small production crew that will be mostly self-sufficient.

Finally, the role of the associate producer can mean many different things. In many cases, the associate producer works solely in an administrative capacity, in a role similar to that of the line producer. In that way, they fall into the "facilitator" category as well. In some cases, the associate producer provides creative support. In our case, the associate producer (Kat) provides some of both, as well as her own unique knowledge of animation production.

So there you have it! The title of "producer" can mean many different things, but the end goal is always the same; to make the best film possible, on time, and on budget. Next time you see a film, keep your eyes open for the producing titles. Maybe you'll see one you recognize!