JFL

Steven Universe is a real gem among animated series. At a time when everyone is placing their bets on a frantic pace, affect and a pile of deranged ideas, Rebecca Sugar’s original project offers up a fresh concept that harmoniously combines bold imagination and the atmosphere of a sleepy small town with a hint of melancholy. One of the key elements in the subtlety and maximally enchanting nature of Steven Universe is the fact that the series’ creators built a world with an wonderful fantastical mythology, but without presenting it to us as a bombastic spectacle, instead focusing on its bittersweet ordinariness. In addition to that, the individual episodes charm viewers with their extraordinarily intelligent screenplays, which are bizarre, meta-genre and delicately emotional in equal measure. However, the brilliantly conceived central and supporting characters still remain the focal point of the series. As its creator says, the series is based on a love affair between fantasy and reality, which not only describes its overarching principle, where fantastical beings marvel at reality as much as ordinary ones marvel at supernatural phenomena, but actually also literally states the origin of the titular protagonist. Steven is a new addition to a group of “Gems”, which is otherwise composed of brilliantly characterised female warriors with magical powers who alternately act toward Steven as cool mentors, caring guardians and friendly sisters. Steven himself is evidently destined for great things, but he still doesn’t know how to control his abilities. The series conveys to viewers the perspective of this chubby and enchantingly cute boy for whom everything magical is new but basically ordinary at the same time. Furthermore, Steven’s bashful good-heartedness, his effort to have a hand in things, his awkward discovery of his own abilities and primary his sincere naturalness and naïve enthusiasm are absolutely irresistible. The overall impression is fundamentally made complete by the boldly stylised drawing, which thanks to the lively animation changes like in a comic book instead of adhering to strict principles of character design, as well as by the saturated colours and chromatically altered rendering of the individual sequences, as well as the superb mix of keyboard and electronic music by the duo Aivi & Surasshu. Even in comparison with Cartoon Network’s otherwise highly distinctive and wildly imaginative series, Steven Universe is a unique gem that as an outsider does not disarm viewers with its self-confidence, but finds its way directly into their hearts.

Your mind is the scene of the adventure: http://youtu.be/5awc2j65UWU ____ This milestone of modern pop culture, which redefined more than just the field of animated television shows, ended last year with a spectacular finale. But the concluding whirlwind of emotions and visual creativity also reminded us that, at its core, this was not the phantasmagorical trip that a lot people mistakenly considered the series to be, but simply the story of a boy who wants to be a hero. But this world of sugar kingdoms, magical dogs, mystical wizards banished from Mars and characters whose tragedy consists in the fact that they have forgotten their past or, conversely, that they remember it, is just as complex and ambiguous as our reality. Finn’s journey through nearly three hundred episodes to come to the understanding that heroes are not what we see in trashy fantasies, but instead are those who are able to resolve conflicts within themselves and others, even if that’s damned difficult, helped the several generations that grew up with him to find their bearings in their own complicated worlds.

In the reviews of Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon series, there is a lot of speculation about what drugs their creators are on, which is fun, but unfortunately draws attention away from the essence of the whole thing. The final form of these series is not shaped by the consumption of hallucinogens (for the most part, people don’t create much under their influence), but by the simple fact that they are the collective works of creators who, regardless of their specialisation (from screenwriters and storyboard artists through character and background designers to animators and music composers), are tremendously creative and have great imaginations, which, thanks to enlightened producers, are given free rein. From interviews with the screenwriters, it is apparent that another important aspect is not a priori subordination to the child audience, but simply writing what they enjoy themselves or would appreciate if they were children. In combination with visual ideas from the cartoonists and animators and during joint brainstorming sessions with other creators, this gives rise to entertainment with various layers that will simultaneously appeal to various age groups. All of this is manifested with phenomenal effect in The Amazing World of Gumball, which, together with Adventure Time and Steven Universe, represents the absolute pinnacle of contemporary animated television productions. First, what makes Gumball appealing is its combined animation, where the most bizarre characters, created using every conceivable technique including drawing, computer animation, puppets, clay, photos and crumpled paper, as well as played by actors or parts of their bodies, are brought together in front of photorealistic backgrounds. This immense variety results from the original concept of series creator Ben Bocquelet, who wanted to give space to every possible character that he had created in the past as an advertising creative for various campaigns, but which had been rejected. The series is thus literally a glimpse into a world populated by the figments of Bocquelet’s imagination. This personal dimension is further enhanced by the overarching sitcom concept and the individual personalities of the main characters, who their creator says are very much based on his own family. Thanks to the involvement of the screenwriters, some of whom also work on British live-action comedy series, the result is a wild cyclone of visual, verbal, self-reflective, pop-culture and situational gags that liberate the school and family sitcom format from traditional clichés and instead populate it with breathtaking ideas. This subversive and broad-minded approach to genre and formulas can be partly explained by the fact that Gumball is not an American series, but is actually the first original project of Cartoon Network’s European division based in London. Especially in the second season, when the creators had already overcome the difficulties of production and could let their imaginations run wild, the boldness, inventiveness and self-reflection reaches levels that one would never expect even in a “series for adults” and whose ingenuity one can only stare at in disbelief (see the absolutely brilliant last six episodes of the second season starting with The Tape).

Michel is an absurdly dadaist, deadpan series that shows that being normal is nonsense, while the ideal embodiment of this principle is everyone’s favourite titular hero – a croaking, furry, little green being with four eyes, who really likes to feast on shoes and pigeons. You know, it’s for kids.

It is very obvious that J.G. Quintel grew up on ’80s and ’90s pop culture. Whereas others try to forget the kitsch, pathos, fashion fads and technologies of that era, Quintel constructed a monument to them for new generations with infectious enthusiasm. Every episode of Regular Show is the essence of the coolest bits of the eighties, recast by the stare of an excited boy crouching in front of a video and dreaming of his own ultimate movie, where there is not even a hint of rationality, since everything is rather governed by the freedom of cartoon logic. Quintel formed the main dramaturgical motto from the contemporary idea that every proper show must have an edited montage based on a punch-up, a ferocious battle/chase/stunt scene and a proper explosion, all crammed into ten minutes instead of an hour and a half. ___ PS: All good things must come to an end and, after eight years and 261 episodes, Regular Show departed in truly grand style. The entire eighth and final season comprises a phenomenal work that brilliantly balances entertainment with melancholy and strong emotions, as well as clever meta references to the functioning of fictional worlds and their viewers. The three-part series finale serves as the culmination of the aforementioned qualities blended with a whirlwind of conceptual formal ideas. Though one could curse the fact that Cartoon Network cancelled the series, it is of far more importance that its creators had the opportunity to finish it with dignity in an opulent and unforgettable manner. Whereas other long-running episodic animated series simply stop (or, even worse, keeping going forever), Regular Show secured its place in the Hall of Fame alongside the other most emotive and complex culminations of epic stories such as The Legend of Korra and Cowboy Bebop. Thanks for all of the shared moments. Ohhhh!