Soviet Animation: Introductions

The, um, dare I say it, more sensual Bagheera from the USSR's
version of the Jungle Book, Mowgli's Adventures (1967-1973)

There are a lot of things in this world that you shouldn't knock till you've tried them. . . and tried them more than once in their best form.

Like kimchee, in one of its many flavors. Or taking a train somewhere on a whim without any reservations or maps. Or exploring the vast array of films that Bollywood's tried and tested industry (Bride & Prejudice does not count) has to offer.

Soviet animation is one of those things. It's taken me some fits and starts, but every time I return to the youtubes and try another film, I feel really rewarded. Now it's starting to become an addiction (like I need another one of those). But seriously get addicted. Like, now.

As a kid, I much preferred Vuk: The Little Fox
(Hungary, 1987), to Disney's The Fox and the Hound.

[Side note: Perhaps my self-congratulation here isn't warranted. This kind of animation might not be much of a stretch for my brain, after all. In full disclosure,  I realized recently that a couple of my favorite animated films I had on VHS as a kid were actually Eastern European animation features that had been re-dubbed and re-edited for an American audience. I don't think they ever got very popular, though, because I've never spotted them on another family's movie shelf. The dubbing also explains some of the weirdness of those films. Dubbed animation isn't as obvious as dubbed live-action,obviously. But when I re-watched the original version of one of the films, the soundtrack didn't misfire with the action as often.]

Some Russian animation is bizarre (to me at least) and utterly unique to itself, and some of it is like a vivid dream populated by Disney characters who've been to some kind of Russian re-socialization camp. They look similar, but when you expect them to turn right, they turn left . . . and when you expect them to go dark they go comedic.

Anyway, as I attempt to acquaint myself with more Russian animation (and there's a whole lot of it), I find that I appreciate the weird. But given the last year I spent bingeing on Indian cinema, I feel a lot more comfortable with weird than I used to.

Cheburashka [the furry one who might be a botched Teddy Bear]
and Crocodile Gena (1967)

For example, there's some Soviet stop-motion that you might not have any reference point for. Like the Cheburashka short features . . . which seem to show what would happen if you crossed Paddington Bear and Mr. Rogers puppet time with a Chekov play.

These are stop-motion characters for children following traditions of Russian literature . . . trying to tackle social problems, anarchists, personal isolation, and loneliness. How awesome is that? Or maybe it's just about a group of creatures who happen to become friends. You can take it however you like.

[Side note #2: I wish I had the money to fund a study measuring a "boredom quotient" before and after a person begins a steady diet of foreign cinema. I swear apathy and discontent would decrease by a significant percentage. It's good for the mind to indulge in that which is odd and outside one's comfort zone. I mean, you'd really think that it would take too much effort to invest in art and stories you have no context for, but if it's beautiful and well-made, the comfort zone factor can be easily discarded. And if it's not beautiful or well-made, you can still sometimes find some treasures in the rubbish pile.]

The Snow Queen (1957)

For those of us who display ADD tendencies, it helps that a lot of these films are rather brief, or were even originally released in multiple short episodes. Plus, if you want something semi-familiar, you can also find a lot of well known fairy tales in animated (and live-action) form . . . and nobody, nobody does fairy tales like the Russians.

Time to resume my very pleasant search for more, more, more . . .