As the new year dawns, a long-held and respected institution raises its head once more to look back and provide perspective on the year that was. I’m talking, of course, about the annual Academy Awards, where the very best of film somehow manage to fit all of their inflated egos into one auditorium for several hours. Except unlike the Golden Globes, there’s no alcohol to help people cope and they actually try to hide just how corrupt the voting system is. Indeed, the Oscars are notoriously unreliable at judging quality. For-your-consideration campaigns, rigged voting, flawed electoral processes, and rampant bribery are all par for the course as far as the Academy is concerned. Remember when ‘Green Book’ won best picture over ‘BlackkKlansman’ and ‘The Favourite?’ Remember when ‘Crash’ won over ‘Brokeback Mountain’ and ‘Capote?’ Remember when 'Rocky' beat 'Taxi Driver?'
It doesn’t help that 2019 was...well let’s just be honest, one more flaming tire to add to the burning pile that western civilization has become. There was more of the political nonsense that the more exhausted of us have long-since learned to tune out, the corporate nonsense that the smart paid attention to if only to find out who their new overlords were going to be, and we lost a voice of a generation: ‘Mean’ Gene Okerlund.
Rest in peace you beautiful, velvet-voiced bastard.
And things weren’t all too great in terms of cartoons either. Star Vs. the Forces of Evil had a criminally disappointing final season, Disney made billions by redoing The Lion King as a lackluster CGI feature film, and the world had to endure this triple combo of monstrosities:
Each one of those has potentially set the art of animation back by decades.
But hey, if the Oscars can put on a happy face about things and pretend that the world isn’t collapsing around them, then so can I. And in their spirit, I’m starting an annual tradition of looking back at the best exhibition of cartoons from the last year, picking and discussing the best examples of a variety of categories of animation. There are no celebrities or red carpets, it isn’t live, there’s no multi-million dollar budget to blow, no golden statuettes that will find themselves in pawn shops sometime in the next decade, and there isn’t an academy of prestigious innovators voting along political biases, there’s just me writing about the stuff I liked this year. And if that intro left you underwhelmed, then let our first entry reinvigorate you.
BEST VOICE ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE - MATT BERRY (TWELVE FOREVER)
Twelve Forever was a neat little show based on a pilot Cartoon Network commissioned in 2015. Netflix scooped up the rights a few years later and the series finally debuted in July of 2019. Revolving around newly 12-year old Reggie Abbott, the show follows her ongoing struggle to cling to her childhood innocence with the help of a cosmic realm called Endless, where she and her friends are superhero messiahs to a population of fantastic and silly beings. But while Reggie fights the very concept of age and wants things to stay the way they are, her allies range from willing to accept the changes of growth to actively pursuing them. Reggie’s own insecurities about her future manifest in Endless as the mysterious and bizarre creature she names Butt Witch.
Though a shapeshifter, Butt Witch usually takes the form of a green-skinned, devil-haired, voluptuous woman and her quest to destroy the cutesy, goofy Endless is punctuated by her adult taunts. It would be so easy to dismiss this antagonist as just a funny but disposable villain. But then they cast Matt Berry in the role and he turned it into something akin to Mark Hamill’s Joker in terms of comedy-horror balance.
Berry’s thin accent provides a chilling level of uncanniness to the role and the fact that such a feminine character is espousing in the voice of man, while not original, adds to the unsettling nature of the character. Berry also has a speed and simplicity that compliments both the comedy and terror of the show. On a thematic level, Butt Witch represents Reggie’s fears of growing up and the accompanying restrictions thereof. In fact, she was created when a label maker fell in some primordial ooze. Get it. Because adults label things. With his quick and almost monotonous delivery, Berry makes the encroachment of age all the more real, inciting subliminal fears of a quick childhood and a boring adulthood.
But at the same time, it’s clear that Berry is injecting a not insignificant amount of glee into his performance. When the script allows him to, he leans into Butt Witch’s sensuality, immaturity, and cruelty. This comes in the form of subtle but harsh inflections, often dropping the final syllable of his lines and rolling his soft Rs. He also has an insane vocal chemistry with Steve Agee, who voices Butt Witch’s minion/boy toy Big Deal, which allows both to fully dive into their characters’ abusive codependency. It’s a real shame that Netflix turned down a second season of Twelve Forever, but we’ll always have Butt Witch.
BEST VOICE ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE - LAKE BELL (HARLEY QUINN)
This show hasn’t even concluded its first season and I already freaking love it. Not because it’s all that good, it isn’t, but because it subscribes wholeheartedly to the Mel Brooks school of comedy. If one joke doesn’t work, three more will already have come and gone before you realize it wasn’t that funny. The comedy and animation is so fast, flashy, and attention-grabbing that it’s easy to overlook the masterful performance given by Lake Bell playing the role of Poison Ivy, classic Batman villain and Harley’s main support system.
Any show where the comedy relief is the central character needs someone at least a little more serious to balance out the show’s tone. Since Harley Quinn is an innately zany character, she needs someone with a particular sense of stability and patience to absorb her messiness. And thanks to Bell, Ivy is very much that character. She delivers at just above a monotone, serious enough to almost cancel out Kaley Cuoco’s hectic performance as Quinn but with enough heart to make Ivy a character unto herself. But that doesn’t stop her from having great comic delivery, quite the opposite. On top of being a foil to Cuoco, Bell’s performance is perfect for Ivy’s dry wit and sarcastic humor. When necessary, she infuses it with a deadly amount of malice and venom, compounded by her already serious tone.
Since only a few of the episodes actually aired in 2019, I’m not able to talk about how she and her character have evolved throughout the rest of the season. But even if she hadn’t shown the ability to grow her performance with her character, Bell stood out from the crowd. Here’s to more of her sharp wit poking holes in clinical mental patients in the foreseeable future.
MOST IMPROVED – DISENCHANTMENT (SEASON 2)
Ah yes, that great backhanded compliment of “most improved.” While it is mostly a participation award given to the one who tried their hardest but failed miserably, I’m choosing to use this as an opportunity to give genuine praise to the second season of Disenchantment. The first season, released in 2018, was prolific animation director Matt Groening’s attempt to turn his subversive writing style to high fantasy, trying to do for it what Futurama did for sci-fi and The Simpsons did for sitcoms. The central problem with such a conceit was an astounding lack of originality. Futurama worked because it showed a technologically advanced world would be just as banal as contemporary office culture and The Simpsons presented a reimagining of the family sitcom formula as a disastrous clan instead of a genial unit. Both were innovative for their time. Meanwhile, “fantasy but funny” had already been done to death, both live-action and animated, and pretty much every subversive take on the subject had already been explored.
But while Disenchantment’s first season underwhelmed, its successor was a drastic improvement. With all the tired fantasy tropes having been fully delved into, the comedy could now focus on the characters. After betraying her father, resurrecting her mother, and leaving her best friend to die, the naive and alcoholic Princess Tiabeanie (voiced by Abbi Jacobson) found herself in the middle of a massive political conspiracy that descends to the literal depths of Hell. To circumvent the forces that are attempting to manipulate her, Bean has to undo her mistakes from the previous season, overcome her vices, and start growing as a person. Hilarity ensues, often incited by her demon familiar Luci (Eric Andre) and mixed-species buddy Elfo (Nat Faxon).
By making the comedy based on character rather than the world, Disenchantment becomes immediately more relatable and opens itself up to new and bigger opportunities. Entire episodes can now be devoted to the trials and tribulations of the various kooky weirdos that make up the principal cast, and almost all of them experience a near-hilarious level of growth based on their struggles. And it’s all bolstered by dialogue put together by regular faces in The Simpson’s writing room, now unshackled from the conventions of a modern setting. It should also be noted that the voice cast is one of the things that have earned Disenchantment this award. Though it featured many veteran voice over artists, Eric Andre and Abbi Jacobson didn’t sound all too comfortable with their characters or vocal performances in the first season. But the second time around, they both nail it, giving their characters new dimensions and layers through their newfound confidence and screen presence.
So while “Most Improved” might be a vaguely insulting compliment to give the show, it comes from a place of love. The show has shown enough improvement that I felt it necessary to mention it in the same award ceremony as some of the best and brightest works of animated art in the past year. And with season three having been announced just last month, I am looking forward to maybe having it on next year’s awards in a more positive capacity.
BEST NEW CARTOON - INFINITY TRAIN
If the Grammys can have a category as pretentious and self-congratulatory as “Best New Artist,” then I have no guilt unironically making a category where I get to talk about the best and brightest newcomer to the animation scene this year. Plus, it gives me an excuse to finally talk about what might be the most interesting development in animation this year: Infinity Train.
The best way I feel I can describe Infinity Train to people who are unfamiliar with it is to compare it to the award-winning musical RENT. It has absolutely nothing to do with the AIDS crisis or New York, but like RENT, Infinity Train crawled its way up from the underground to be a stirring critical success and deals with subjects that most other works of its medium would generally shy away from. A concept was originally pitched to Cartoon Network back in the early 2010s and they greenlit a pilot episode to test the idea with a wider audience. The episode debuted back in 2016 and was an immediate beacon of interest to the cartoon community. Cartoon Network posted the episode on YouTube, where it garnered views like a magnet. A petition for a complete season to be produced followed not long after and accumulated over fifty-thousand signatures before CN agreed.
Though it was supposed to be a mini-series, Infinity Train was later reimagined as an anthology and the first season, “The Perennial Child,” aired in its entirety during a week in August of 2019. The story followed Tulip, a young woman dealing with her parents’ divorce who becomes trapped on the titular locomotive, an eternal string of massive, ever-moving train cars each of which holds a self-contained world she must navigate in order to move on to the next. Each world and train car she visits challenges her to grow and accept that which she cannot change, all while a mysterious, changing number glows on her palm. She teams up with bipolar robot One-One and King Atticus the Corgi to restore order to the train, confront the mysterious robotic conductor, and find her way back to reality.
Apart from just being a cool concept, the writing is about as kick-ass as it gets. Flickering between humor, action, and heavy emotion like a well-greased see-saw, the versatility of the dialogue is so far above the industry standard that it’s amazing they managed to fit into one show, let alone about two-hours’ worth of total television. The writing is only boosted by some of the finest voice acting to come out this year, led by the ever-underrated Ashley Johnson as Tulip. One-One gets the dual voices of Jeremy Crutchley and series creator Owen Dennis and Atticus is voiced to surprising perfection by, of all people, Ernie Hudson. The supplementary cast is filled out by voice acting veterans like Dee Bradley Baker and Audey Wasilewski as well as big acting names like Lena Headey and Ben Mendelsohn, none of whom feel out of place and only add to the suspenseful but lighthearted atmosphere.
The real star of the show, however, is the animation. It is equal parts stunning and fascinating. I think the best term for it would be a blend between the Cal-Arts animation style and Japanese Anime but with a minimalist approach to both and a healthy palate. The crisp, sloping line work is intentionally thin, happy to let the vibrant colors and heavy shadows convey the bevy of emotion the characters and environment experience. But that’s all that’s needed. The shadows in particular are effective at establishing facial expressions and atmosphere without the aid of visible lines. The only place with a harder emphasis on detailed animation is in the background, and this is done with the express purpose of making the simpler foregrounds pop all the more.
The animated movements should be nothing special, but the fact they are done with much less line work than the typical cartoon would use to track motion makes it all the more impressive. The minimalism reduces blur and leaves the movements more distinct and flowing. It’s a small touch but it leaves a much bigger impact then you’d think. The second season debuted earlier in January of 2020 and the animation has remained consistently stellar. A third season has already been announced and I, for one, could not be more excited to see how this animation is used in creative, jaw-dropping ways in the future.
BEST ANIMATION - HAZBIN HOTEL
The passion project of Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano, Hazbin Hotel is a hypothetical web series that dropped on her YouTube channel in late October and took the internet hostage for a few weeks while everyone tried to process what they’d seen. I say hypothetical because so far only the pilot has been released and while subsequent episodes are in the works, no release dates have been given just yet. And they might not come for a while as this one episode apparently took years to create. But it was well worth the wait.
Vivziepop had already made a name for herself as an animator to keep an eye on, but what had previously been just concept art came to life in beautiful, flowing movement paired with surreal imagery and explosive colors and lighting. All without the backing of a major studio. This labor of love follows the exploits of Charlie, the princess of Hell, as she attempts to solve the infernal pit’s overpopulation problem by rehabilitating the souls of sinners and elevating them to Heaven. Joining her in her quest are her hot-tempered girlfriend Vaggy, the self-conceited porn star Angel Dust, and the mysterious and powerful Radio Demon, Alastor. It delves into the realm of mature humor, but never becomes overtly offensive a la South Park or crude like Family Guy. Instead, this show is very much aimed at the demographic of the internet age, with lots of cursing but also heartfelt emotion, dramatic weight, and an atmosphere that ranges from carefree to anxious but never feels disingenuous. It’s also a musical and while none of the songs so far have been all together memorable, they are certainly pretty, sung well, give a great undertone to the narrative, and hint at the creative range that Vivziepop holds close to her chest.
Visually, the show (or really just episode, I should say) is downright arresting. Everything in it is shaded black, red, and white, giving it an unearthly, apocalyptic appearance. But just that tri-tone is enough to flesh out the entire world and cast. The motion is so top notch that it’s hard to believe it doesn’t have the backing of a major studio. The explosive action scenes and a fast-paced musical number halfway through the episode are both controlled with a finesse that many televised cartoons lack, never having to restage the camera or perspective to keep the entire movement in frame.
The pilot episode was followed up by a related short called Helluva Boss which shares an animation style, color scheme, and humor, but isn’t quite as atmospheric and lacks the epic potential of Hazbin Hotel. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I wouldn’t have even mentioned a show with just a single episode in this category if I didn’t recognize that this could very well be the future of animation. A lot of new animators are getting their start online. Usually to get exposure and be hired by big television studios, but it may very well be the case that the future of high-quality cartoons will be purely online. And if it is, then Hazbin Hotel will be credited as the catalyst that jump-started the revolution. If you need more proof, legendary animation director Paul Dini sang its praises on twitter like it was the herald of the second coming. Which, given its subject matter, it very well could be.
BEST CARTOON EPISODE - BAND IN CHINA (SOUTH PARK)
South Park has always been portrayed unfairly by the wider media. Yes, it uses over-the-top extremes and offensive, juvenile jokes, but it uses them to poke fun at, expose, and criticize the more ridiculous aspects of society. And while yes, the genuine social commentary that Trey Parker and Matt Stone weave into their show is often undercut by their insistence on reverting to immature humor, it doesn’t negate their often insightful take on current issues. And this has perhaps never been so poignant and relevant than in the second episode of the show’s twenty-third season: “Band in China.”
The episode follows Randy’s continuing quest to grow his weed business. He discovers that China has a vast population of consumers and that breaking into the East Asian market could revolutionize his company, Tegridy Weed. However, he’s disheartened to learn that not only have other major companies like Disney and the NBA already had the same idea, but the Chinese government has been committing brutal human rights violations. In his epic stupidity, Randy is arrested for trying to bring weed into China and is sent to a prison camp where he witnesses the horrid conditions that the government of Xi Jinping subjects its political prisoners to, all depicted in graphic, disgusting detail. However, despite these atrocities, Randy and other American companies are willing to do business with them, leading to Randy partnering with a vulgar parody of Mickey Mouse in trying to re-establish good relations with the Chinese courts. This culminates with Randy assassinating Winnie the Pooh to appease his new business partners.
Meanwhile, his son Stan has started a thrash metal band with his school buddies and are approached by a studio executive who wants to make a biopic of their burgeoning fame. However, the film production is continually waylaid by constant interference from Chinese censors who keep stifling their creativity in order to hide even tangential references to possible crimes against humanity. By the end of the episode, Stan realizes the only art that can survive in a world where an oppressive regime controls the media is a generic boy band so bland and uninteresting that the censors can’t find anything to criticize and Randy is allowed to sell his weed in China. Pushing the envelope has never been less subtle.
The episode caused massive amounts of controversy when it aired and, needless to say, it got the entire series and all affiliated media banned in China, a very deliberate decision on the part of the writers. They even issued a sarcastic apology where they called out other companies for kowtowing to the whims of a government mired in corruption. But even without the surrounding discourse, this episode stands out as a particularly good example of why South Park isn’t just one of the funniest shows on television, but one of the most necessary. At this point, the legacies of Parker and Stone are so well-established that they have no qualms about sacrificing the global appeal of their brand to highlight the massive discrepancies in modern culture for a wide audience.
And even when not calling attention to the Chinese concentration camps, they are pointing out the hilarious stupidity of entertainment capitalism. One of the best jokes in the episode shows that Mickey, righteously furious that his media presence in China is in jeopardy, doesn’t know who Randy is. Randy explains he’s from South Park. “South Park?” replies Mickey, “What is that? Do I own that?”
“Not yet, sir,” a disembodied voice cries from off camera, an obvious reference to Disney’s recent acquisition of Fox and the company’s seeming quest to own all the intellectual property that makes up popular culture. The entire episode feels like one big joke at Disney’s expense, but also an admission that it’s only a matter of time before the House of Mouse gobbles Parker and Stone up and the kids are trying to get in their fun while they still can. “Band in China” stands out as an episode that could only come from a series as fearless and confident as South Park, even if the entire season surrounding it has felt like a considerable step down from the comedy masterclass that was season twenty-two.
THE MEL BLANC (unofficial) VOICE ACTING LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD - JOHN DIMAGGIO
The Golden Globes have the Cecil B. DeMille Award, an honorary celebration of someone whose lifetime devoted to the entertainment industry deserves enduring recognition parallel only to others who have received the award. The award’s name comes from its first recipient and the director whose contributions other nominees’ are measured against. By the same logic, the first recipient of my Mel Blanc (unofficial) Award should be the man of a thousand voices himself. After all, Mel Blanc fully embodied the spirit of the voice actor. The key to his art was his versatility and his nuance. A proverb in the voice acting industry states that it’s not enough to be able to do Porky Pig’s voice, you have to be able to do Shakespeare with Porky Pig’s voice. Every sound booth and recording studio has to become the Globe Theater stage in order to be a successful performer.
But everyone already recognizes his greatness so I decided to just name the award after him. Just imagine he’d already won this award sometime in the 90s’ and we can move on from there. This year, the Mel Blanc Award goes to one of his most successful torchbearers who continues his tradition of treating each role as a prize: John DiMaggio.
A Jersey boy born and raised, DiMaggio attended Rutgers University and still splits his time between a private residence in New York and Los Angeles. One can’t help but wonder if an upbringing in the earnest and blue collar New Jersey was a formative element that produced the gravelly tone that brought to life King Zod, Dr. Drakken, Jake the Dog, and so many others. DiMaggio has only been working in the voice acting community since 1997, a relatively short time all things considered. And yet, it was only a few years later when he was discovered by David X. Cohen during open auditions for an experimental new sci-fi cartoon from the creators of The Simpsons. This, of course, was Futurama, where the breakout character was the sloppy, drunk robot Bender, voiced by DiMaggio in his first major role.
Bender threw open the door for DiMaggio to grace the cartoon world with his immeasurable talents. While still working on Futurama, he simultaneously voiced key characters on Kim Possible and Samurai Jack, which many credit as one of the best animated shows of all time. Even during the mid-2000s, DiMaggio was still a prized novelty that many directors and showrunners wanted to feature in their projects, even if it was just for a cameo or one-off appearance. Among these appearances were prestigious shows such as The Boondocks, Teen Titans, and Afro Samurai.
It was in 2010 that DiMaggio found the role that would help reinvent himself as a performer. Jake the Dog in Adventure Time allowed DiMaggio to use his natural growl in a benevolent tone. Before then, it had always been used to play aggressive anti-heroes or outright antagonists. DiMaggio was a master of using harsh cadences to increase a scene’s tension and his character’s intimidation factor without sacrificing energy so it was an easy casting choice for directors. But as Jake, his voice was repurposed for that of an older, more supportive character. For the first time, DiMaggio was allowed to drop the bluster and sound like a kind uncle. You could practically hear the smile he wore in the booth as he dropped sage wisdom and performed exaggerated cartoon pantomime.
In the little more than two decades since DiMaggio began voice acting, he has become a staple of the industry. A cartoon feels naked without at least a one-episode appearance of his phenomenal vocal talents and the sound of his performances can turn a good cartoon into a great one. It is with great honor and pleasure that I grant John DiMaggio the Mel Blanc Lifetime Voice Acting Achievement Award for his dedication, professionalism, and craft in the animation world. Congratulations on wining a fake award that I would be sued for if it were real.
BEST WRITING - BOJACK HORSEMAN
Only the first half of the final season of Netflix's pièce de résistance aired in 2019, but I've made an exception for other categories and if any show deserves the have the rules bent, it's Bojack Horseman. Though it started as the tale of a washed-up sitcom actor trying to edge his way back into Hollywood prominence, it naturally evolved into an episodic treatise on degenerating mental health, incorporating trippy imagery and reality-warping dialogue to convey Bojack’s drug-fueled spiral. The writing on this show has always been sharp, witty, poignant, insightful, and, amazingly, it never felt pretentious while addressing its themes head on and with a sardonic but earnest tone, a near miraculous feat considering its subject matter.
Season six promised to be different, however, just as Bojack himself did. Season five closed with him finally taking responsibility for his vices and checking himself into rehab. With a new outlook on life and a stronger support system than ever, he begins his long journey to recovery. But the lucidity of sobriety has only made it harder to face the things he’s done and he is haunted by both the phantoms of his past and his history of mental illness and addiction. Meanwhile, new mom Princess Carolyn is struggling to balance her love of her job with her evolving feelings toward her adopted daughter, only made worse by the toxic environment of Hollywood. Mr. Peanutbutter harbors guilt over his affair with Diane, which he continues to hide from Pickles until it threatens to eat him from within, but finds an unconventional solution to his infidelity. Diane herself has gone cross-country to shoot hard-hitting interviews with a rustic cameraman and the two begin to develop the show’s first supportive healthy adult relationship. However, she still suffers from crippling writer’s block and even develops depression from the notion that her environment wasn’t what was holding her back but rather her own insecurities.
But what makes season six unique, especially in the context of the rest of the show, is that things start to work. Bojack faces his demons and starts a new life for himself where he learns to be an overall pretty decent guy. With the help of her friends and the return of assistant extraordinaire Judah, Princess Carolyn finds room in her heart for both her career and her child. Despite their situation being unorthodox, Mr. Peanutbutter and Pickles still love each other and are able to express it in a healthy way. Diane’s struggles culminate in her being prescribed anti-depressants and makes healthier choices to build a life that makes her happy. And, of course, Todd is running around being the goofy, naïve avatar of innate goodness and support that he’s always been to one degree or another.
All of this is, of course, paired with Bojack’s stellar writing, which has never been more frank or introspective. The team of writers, including the likes of Elijah Aron, Alison Tafel, Nick Adams, Rachel Kaplan, and Peter Knight, were all veterans of the show who’s writing style has evolved and grown along with the characters and the narrative. They are masters at building tension based on the structured reveal of information that the characters are only privy to as an afterthought, which has never been clearer than in the midway point in the season which I dare not spoil here. Suffice it to say, Bojack Horseman has always had some of the best writing of any show I’ve ever seen, cartoon or otherwise, and the episodes released in 2019 only elevated their quality to a new and unforeseen level.
BEST VOICE ACTOR IN A LEAD ROLE - ZACH CALLISON (STEVEN UNIVERSE)
In its heyday, Steven Universe was a weird but popular show about a half-human boy living with his unique, alien aunts. There was some galactic intrigue, superpowers, and a war for cosmic independence that boiled down to a familial spat, but that was only about a third of the total episodes. And this third of the show was its meat, the interesting elements that kept audiences coming back, progressed the story, and set up character growth. The other two thirds of the show was mostly about Steven just...chilling. Spending his precocious childhood in a small, boring coastal town and dealing with its various zany but harmless citizens. While this could sometimes be humorous, it was by and large just...kinda simple. I mean, the pilot episode was about Steven trying to figure out if his alien powers were somehow connected to his favorite ice cream sandwich. Spoiler alert: they didn’t and it was a total waste of everyone’s time. But still, people watched these boring, inane episodes and did so gladly. This was in part because they knew it was just a matter of time before an actual good episode was dropped in their laps, but it was also a product of Zach Callison’s excellent vocal performance.
Callison was tapped to voice Steven when he was just sixteen and in the intervening years, he’s only gotten better at bringing a naive but likable protagonist to life, even when he doesn’t have all too much to say. He so mastered the character’s simplistic mindset and generally empathetic inflections that it became difficult, if not outright impossible, to see Steven as anything else. He helped wrap up the initial series in spectacular fashion earlier this year and even demonstrated a fair bit of range in the process, coaxing the character through the toughest, most emotional ordeal of his young life. Little did we know that this was a sign of things to come.
This year also saw the television release of Steven Universe: The Movie which saw Callison return to the title role. The film was set some two years and a good chunk of puberty after the close of the original series, meaning that Steven had changed significantly since his last appearance. However, he was still voiced by Callison, who deepened Steven’s voice just enough to reflect a new, higher level of maturity but keeping his childlike innocence. As if that wasn’t enough, it was announced at NYCC this year that the franchise would continue with Steven Universe: Future, a limited second series picking up after the movie with the possibility to continue telling Steven’s story for several more seasons. This only served to continue Callison’s ongoing mastery of his signature role, The new series debuted in December and shows Steven facing the backlash and dealing with the aftermath of both the conclusion of the first series and of just growing up, something Callison has innate knowledge of seeing as he’s only twenty-two and has been doing this his entire adult life.
It might seem strange to be giving this pick to such a young candidate, especially seeing how many other masterful performances we saw this year. But the kid has a moxy that most others lack. He has the rare gift to grow alongside his character, observing their development over an extended period of evolution. And his due diligence in crafting Steven’s voice pays off dividends with a consistently masterful performance. He hasn’t done much outside of Steven Universe, but I look forward to seeing how his career progresses from this monumental launch point.
BEST VOICE ACTRESS IN A LEAD ROLE - IDINA MENZEL (FROZEN 2)
I almost feel guilty for making this pick, even if it’s the logical winner. Idina Menzel is one of those actresses who were just born to play big, bombastic roles where she gets to fluctuate between soft but emotionally heavy moments and bursting Broadway numbers. And to that effect, Elsa from Frozen 2 feels like it was custom built for her specific sensibilities. It allows her to enjoy long stretches of quiet but strife-riddled contemplation punctuated by the occasional power ballad about being true to one’s self and coming out. And Idina is loving every line of dialogue she gets.
This perfect pairing of part and actress was already evident in 2014’s Frozen, but Elsa’s emotional growth and journey through the sequel allowed Menzel to experiment more with the dynamic range of her voice acting chops. Elsa’s fear, longing, and ultimate epiphany were made all the more powerful and real because Menzel never does anything by halves and made sure that nobody was going to doubt her commitment to the role. Her singing has only sharpened with age and she is able to infuse it into her naturally crisp voice, leaving behind a half-floating, half-piercing voice befitting a confused but firm monarch.
Yeah, I don’t really feel like I have to defend this one all too much. Next category.
BEST SEASON - SHE-RA AND THE PRINCESSES OF POWER (SEASON 4)
At the end of the third season of Netflix’s She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, protagonist Adora’s main enemy/love interest Catra used a faulty inter-dimensional portal to blow up reality, forcing Queen Angella to sacrifice herself to hold the fabric of the universe together. It was a huge turning point for the show and the whole episode was filled with twist reveals. Ultimate bad guy Hordak was revealed to be just penultimate bad guy Hordak, the long-lost King Micah was revealed to be alive, and the show itself revealed that it wasn’t afraid to push its characters to their personal extremes. It should have been impossible for the fourth season to match such high emotional and narrative stakes.
And yet…
Where season three ended in an explosion, season four was a slow burn, letting the tension grow between the protagonists as they came to face their new reality. Adora’s friend Glimmer was now queen, which came with new freedoms and new limitations. Having to make tough strategic decisions, often while being influenced by dubious sources, started putting her at odds with her friends, each of whom had a different but reasonable reaction to the shift of power dynamics within the group. Adora was insistent that Glimmer take a backseat role in their war as she was now far too important to be on the front lines, but would go against orders Glimmer gave because she was to focused on personal vendettas to see the big picture. Glimmer doesn’t want to let her new royal position or the loss of her mother hold her back from being the kick-ass battle mage she feels she should be, but also wants her authority as queen to be respected and obeyed. Bow, ever the frantic peacekeeper, is so desperate to bridge his friends’ opposing viewpoints that he begins neglecting his own emotional health, causing him to start developing a subtle resentment for the two of them.
All of this moves around throughout the season like a fluid, interweaving with subplots about betrayal, hidden motives, ancient secrets, multiversal sci-fi nonsense, mystical high fantasy nonsense, and even some very subliminal callbacks to the original series. No one element stands supreme above the others because She-Ra season four is ultimately about what the show has always been about: characters we like dealing with real emotions. But where previous seasons have limited themselves to a standard gamut of psychological turmoil, at least by cartoon standards, season four has the benefit of following an apocalyptic event. How does Catra feel, knowing her enslavement to her abandonment issues nearly destroyed the world? How does Shadow Weaver feel, knowing that her allies’ distrust in her almost led to their deaths? How does Adora feel, knowing that ultimately all of this is her fault, even if she had little to no control over these events?
The atmosphere and tension of this season is almost palpable and the fact that this show has been consistently improving is one of the reasons why I think Netflix has done more to advance the art of cartoons than most television channels. The animation hasn’t changed, but it’s pastel colors, fluid movements, and curved line work have never been unappreciated. The voice cast is as comfortable and stellar in their roles as they’ve always been, but this time get to be joined by Amanda Miller as Flutterina and Jacob Tobia as Double Trouble, both fantastic additions whose voices flow into their respective roles with such uncanny ease that it’s almost frightening. The writing is also as sharp as ever, always knowing when to break the tension with levity and how to balance multiple plots and subplots without feeling crowded or overwhelmed.
If you’re not watching She-Ra, then I don’t know what to tell you at this point. If you’re worried about it being a “girly” show, then you’re part of the problem and you’re denying yourself exciting entertainment and thought-provoking art because you’re afraid of anything that might seem feminine. Season four was not only the new high point for an already golden show, but it gave patient fans some long-awaited plot points, such as Scorpia’s turn to the light side, Micah’s reveal, and, of course, the return of fan favorite Princess Entrapta, a.k.a. one of the best characters ever written for television.
Let me put it to you this way: of all the judgments I’ve made for this pseudo award essay, this is the one I feel is the most inarguable. This right here? This is the hill I’m dying on. With a smile on my face, no less.
BEST ANIMATION DIRECTOR - CHRIS BUTLER (MISSING LINK)
It is no hyperbole to say that Laika Studio, which only has six films under its belt, is on equal standings with animation giants like Disney and Dreamworks. How is such a feat possible? Well those six films are Corpse Bride, Coraline, ParaNorman, The Boxtrolls, Kubo and the Two Strings, and 2019’s Missing Link, each and every one a stop-motion masterpiece miles beyond what a CGI-dependent studio would be capable of. While Missing Link is definitely the weakest entry in Laika’s filmography and their first film to lose money, the technical achievement of putting out a fully stop-motion film in 2019 is an astounding accomplishment by itself. And it wouldn’t have been possible without Chris Butler at the helm.
The English artist and director has kept a low profile throughout his career, only working on projects he either believes in the artistic potential of or seems like a fine ride. Case in point, he got his start in the industry as a storyboard artist and designer for The Tigger Movie, Tarzan 2, and Mr. Bean: The Animated Series. From there, he was hired by Laika to be a storyboard artist on their breakout hit Coraline, a macabre kid’s film about worlds hidden in the crevices of a familiar environment. The movie was made iconic by its arresting and horrific visuals, many of which were designed by Butler. Laika producers were so impressed with his work that he was tapped to write and direct ParaNorman, one of the studio’s finest contributions. While he took a step back from the director’s chair for a moment, he still was still a co-writer on Kubo and the Two Strings, arguably the studio’s magnum opus.
Missing Link saw Butler return to the director position for a stop-motion take on the odd-couple adventure film convention. The film centers on Sir Lionel Frost, a laced-up explorer and adventurer in Victorian England who stakes his reputation and future on a suspicious map to find Sasquatch, the missing evolutionary link between man and ape. He finds the Sasquatch, a soft-hearted soul named Susan Link, but this only sparks a global journey where the two attempt to find a lost city of Yeti in the Himalayas. They are joined by Lionel’s former lover and are pursued by a humorously petty bounty hunter.
The voice cast includes Hugh Jackman, Zack Galifianakis, Zoe Saldana, and Stephen Fry. Like all Laika productions, Butler is able to draw out the absolute best from a cast more accustomed to physical acting rather than vocal performances. The animation is as stellar as audiences have come to expect from the studio. Despite being stop-motion, emphasis is placed far more on the motion than the stop and, as a result, everything has a natural flow to it while still bearing weight on screen. Link himself is perhaps the biggest beneficiary of this style as his larger frame and shaggy fur coat likely required the brunt of animators’ attention and the effort shows. One thing Laika has never slacked on is lighting, and Missing Link is no exception. Despite using 3D models instead of renders, the lighting focus never alters or distracts the camera, making every color and movement all the more emphatic.
So yeah, the film is pretty spectacular even though it underperformed at the box office. But it is truly all thanks to Butler. Directing a stop-motion film is just as intensive as filming a live-action film, if not more so. An entire day of filming can constitute less than a minute of the final product based on the minute level of modification required between individual frames. And yes, Laika and other studios in the medium have found methods and techniques to mitigate the painful process, but it is still a grueling, demanding job that only the stout and the devoted can do at all, let alone with the sublime passion and perfectionist eye that Butler clearly has. And when factoring in that he had to oversee this machine on a day-to-day basis as well as organize recording sessions for the cast, curate the soundtrack, and write the damn thing, I can find no better candidate for this year’s best animation director than Chris Butler.
BEST ANIMATED FEATURE FILM - KLAUS
If you haven’t seen this absolute masterpiece on Netflix yet, drop everything now and do so. Netflix has been low-key one of the best animation platforms for the last few years, but Klaus might just be the magnum opus. Spanish animator Sergio Pablos, creator of the Despicable Me franchise, owed the world a huge debt after filling pop culture with horrible, minion-filled movies and even worse minion-filled memes but Klaus pays back with considerable interest. Made with a hand-drawn heavy ratio of practical to 3D animation, the film is a visual marvel. The combination and clever execution thereof allow the colors to vibrate off the screen. Shadows seem to intertwine with movement thanks to creative line work that I can’t say I’ve ever seen before.
The story is also pretty damn sharp. A Christmas movie set in industrial-era Europe, it follows Jesper, an entitled brat who you know is an entitled brat because he’s voiced by Jason Shwartzman. After intentionally flunking out of his father’s postal academy, he is conscripted into the mail service nevertheless and exiled to the far-flung northern town of Smeerensburg. There, he finds a chaotic hamlet well removed from civilized society, equipped with a generations-long blood feud between two warring clans, an aggressive teacher who’s resorted to fish mongering since nobody is sending their kids to school anymore, and the titular silent giant of a woodsman that people are more than happy to leave well enough alone. With all these pieces, Jesper sets in motion a win-win-win scheme to help the kids of the town get the childhood they deserve, help Klaus work through his emotional trauma by giving away his mysterious collection of homemade toys, and help himself get the heck out of this disturbed, macabre town. Obviously there is change, growth, comedy, heart, and big, swelling music to fill the emotional moments.
This is also one of the best voice casts I’ve seen put together in a long time. Lots of animated movies pad themselves out with recognizable celebrity voices, but Klaus makes a point of using celebrities who are also notable voice actors. Rashida Jones, Norm MacDonald, and Joan Cusack bolster the supporting cast and J.K. Simmons as Klaus is about as pitch perfect as casting gets. Together, they do an amazing job of creating a humorous but haunting atmosphere that ebbs and flows in perfect waves throughout the film. If I have any criticisms, it’s that the soundtrack of modern alt-pop songs can get distracting, though I will concede that they do fit the tone of the movie where they are inserted.
Now I do have to insert a little footnote here and mention that 2019 was a pretty weak year for animated movies, all things considered. I mean, this is the year that gave us UglyDolls, Arctic Dogs, and The Secret Life of Pets 2. Other nominees I considered in this category included Frozen 2, How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World, Missing Link, Toy Story 4, and The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part. All of them were exemplary, but none were able to quite break out of their own enfranchisement or reach Klaus’s level of artistry and entertainment. Klaus is the real deal folks. It’s charming, it’s funny, it’s tear-jerking, it stays with you, and it’s fun for the whole family. Even if the pickings hadn’t been so slim, it would have absolutely been a runner up, but it came out at just the right time in just the right year. I don’t know if we’ll be talking about it five years for now, but I certainly hope so and I hope we get to see more work of this quality from everyone involved.
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