Frank Film

When it comes to experimental film-making, I am the worst possible critic. Where others see great beauty and vision, I see pretension and uselessness. As such, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the animated short, 'Frank Film (1973),' directed by Frank and Caroline Mouris, is a genuinely wonderful autobiographical piece of film-making. Over a five-year period, the directors collected a vast volume of magazine clippings, and these are used to animate the stunning visuals in the film. There are two soundtracks: in the first, Frank Mouris continually lists a number of words beginning with "f," as well as anything else that seems to come to his mind. In the second, he delivers a personal synopsis of his own life, touching on everything from school-life as a child to his career-choices in college. These two soundtracks play simultaneously, sometimes cutting over each other and occasionally seeming to merge into a single entity.

The animation works like an endless stream of the subconscious. As Frank's meandering autobiography turns its attention towards a particular topic, the visuals unleash a gush of related images. For example, as he discusses his endless love for food, we witness a collage of culinary images, each merging into the other, the memory of ten thousand past meals. This is what I like about 'Frank Film;' just like the best of cinema, this is a film that successfully connects with the way that the human memory works, a stream of long-forgotten recollections brought forth by a simple subliminal trigger. Oddly for an experimental film, 'Frank Film' was awarded an Oscar for Best Animated Short Subject at the 1974 Academy Awards, and, in 1996, was inducted into the Library of Congress' National Film Registry, alongside such iconic pictures as 'Broken Blossoms (1919) and 'The Graduate (1967).'

An almost kaleidoscopic review of images from the last fifty years bombard the screen accompanied by a dual narration. One stream is more continual but is gradually beaten into the background by the other which calls out in a keyword/phrase style. I didn't love this. The presentation of the photography does work well enough for a while, but I felt it quickly became quite repetitious and the manipulation of not just the imagery but of the focus too started to grate a bit. When the random sound track resorted to the calling out of people's names or expressions that begin with the letter "f", I sort of gave up. It's original and quirky, certainly, but I found it increasingly quite annoying to watch. Be careful if you're averse to flickering.

So I just got finished watching this animated short by Frank and Caroline Mouris that won the Academy Award for the year it was made and was put into the Library of Congress' National Film Registry during the '90s. In it, Frank is speaking in two soundtracks: one telling his life story and the other listing words that start with "F" or something with a similar sound. This happens as constantly flashing images of something relating to whatever subject is at hand is mentioned. It's initially fascinating to watch and hear but after a while I wondered when the whole damn thing would end! Still, it's worth a look if you're curious about this sort of thing.

I have a fetish for films made entirely of cutout images. There's an NFB film called "This is a Recorded Message" made right around the same time that also uses a similar cutout technique. Both films use advertisements to create their point. However, where "Message" is scathing critique of advertising, "Frank Film" uses advertising images to construct a moving autobiographical portrait of the film maker, Frank Mouris. I was amazed at the way Mouris was able to find all these thousands of images and then stick them all together with two overlapping soundtracks that perfectly match up. It works beautifully, without at all being confusing or hard to follow. I wish there was more I could say about the film, but words escape me.

Of course, I should mention some specific moment from the film that had an effect on me, but in this case the whole film is that one moment. It never gives you time to reflect on what you've seen until its over. When Mouris' voice mentions television, hundreds of T.V sets fill the screen, forming complicated patterns. Similar things happen throughout the film: specific words trigger an array of objects, forming intricate designs. It's stunning.

This short, which most deservedly won the Academy Award and I believe has been included in the Library of Congress's Film Preservation listings as well, defies description with mere words. It must be seen to be appreciated. At first I found the two separate soundtracks jarring, because the same person recorded them both. But gradually, I began to flow with the two distinct, yet equally interesting, narratives. The visual images correspond to one or the other narrative at different points. Compelling to watch.

This clearly was a labor intensive project, as any form of stop-motion animation has to be. Think about how long it took to shoot just 60 seconds worth of film and realize this is nine minutes long! Well worth tracking down, I saw this on Sundance Channel last night. Most highly recommended, but if your idea of animation begins and ends with Bugs Bunny or Speed Racer, you may not care for this at all.