The Fabulous Disney Babe
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A Tribute to John Lasseter
LACMA's Leo Bing Theatre was the site of a tribute to Pixar head John Lasseter last Thursday. Tickets, which were free, two per person, were made available at noon that day. They "sold out" in less than thirteen minutes.
People started queuing up in front of the theatre at about five, but I'd been in the theatre before so knew that, with a capacity of about 400, there weren't really any "bad" seats. LACMA offers several Disney-related film events every year; they're most definitely worth a look. I decided to wander around the grounds, and for a moment wondered where the roadwork was going on, as I smelled tar. Oh, yes, the La Brea Tar Pits are part of the museum complex! I could see one from the balcony, a black lake surrounded by huge wire fences, with faux dinosaurs perched beside it. Strolling over to the Ahmanson building, I enjoyed an exhibit on the early America figures, examined two hundred years of teacup design, and, to kill more time, wandered into the furnishings exhibit. Man, was I ever glad I did. I found myself amongst Grand Californian-esque pieces in the Arts and Crafts exhibit; Frank Lloyd Wright's work right in front of me. I saw a fireplace so lovely it choked me up. As the galleries are a maze-like series of rooms, I looked up to the sign near the ceiling so that I could remember which gallery this was, so that I could find it again easily. It was pretty easy to remember: The Walt Disney Gallery.
It was time to meet Jim Hill, who had stood in line to get our tickets while I was at work, so I sat down in the lobby, where we'd planned to meet, Alice's Jessie in my purse to be signed by John if he had the chance; he'd sent Alice the nicest note and photo of Jessie a few weeks before, after seeing a photo of her snoozing with her Jessie doll. I wanted him to see what a loved wreck Jessie was at this point: the hat is crushed from nights of having been wrapped in a little girl's arms; the filling from one arm was missing, and the chaps had become unstitched from the boots. She was a uniform gray color from days hunting for bugs and evenings being scrubbed clean and dried in time for bed or else...
The local news filmed the fans in line, and Joel Siegel of KABC interviewed John briefly as he entered. I thanked John for Alice's package and he was delighted to see poor bedraggled Jessie. "THIS is what I like to see!" he held her up for Pete Docter to see. Everyone is tall next to me, but Pete is amazingly tall. People were talking about Lilo and Stitch, as the teaser trailer had just debuted. The film's got great buzz; I can't wait to see it.
Inside the theatre, several rows had been saved for Disney and Pixar people. A nice touch: they weren't the front rows - they let the fans who had waited for hours have the best seats in the house, while they sat about ten rows back. Two back rows had been set aside as well, and not filled, so all of the fans in the "rush line" were lucky enough to be able to enter.
The LACMA Centennial of Disney Animation was announced, which will include a roadshow print of Fantasia among many other treats, and then Joel Siegel took the stage. He commented that the last line in the movie Monsters Inc. was "Boo", a word parents used to scare us in a controlled manner. He said that it was not only an excellent piece of Pixar technology, but that the strength of the film was the storytelling, not the technology. Storytelling must be simple; that most of us share the "scariest moment ever" memory: around a campfire - for him it was Boys' Camp in Griffith Park - age nine, ten or so. The counselor is telling a scary story, then all of a sudden one of the other counselors jumps and yells, and all of the kids are so scared they pee their pants. Simple, he said, but not easy.
Human history began, says Siegel, when we started to tell stories. If you could tell stories, whomever you were, you were allowed to stand up in front of a group of people and tell those stories, even if you were of a race, sex or religion not accepted into society back then. We all, as humans, share the same fears: age, death, grief, hunger. The same emotions and hopes. Storytelling is about those shared experiences.
Pixar, he continued, had a new way technologically to tell the story, without it getting in the way of the story. He spoke of a legend being passed around, whether it's true or not I don't know: that in Toy Story 2 Al looked so real that he had to be "tooned up" lest he get in the way of the story. John had to know where to surrender art for passion and where to draw the line of how to use the technology so well that the technology fades into the story; to tell the story so well that the storyteller literally disappears.
Joel's son Dylan is four; Monsters, Inc. was his first film in a theatre. Joel's was Disney's Pinocchio; he still remembers going to the theatre with his parents, and them swinging him over the curb in their hands, the magic of being completely wrapped up in the wonder of the film sitting on his father's lap. Joel and Dylan have seen Monsters, Inc three times so far, and will probably see it many more times together.
Back to "Boo?", the last line in the film: instead of being an expression of fear and hate, it's one of innocence and love. The moral of the story is, "One laugh is as powerful as ten screams." "And now," he continued, "a man who's given me more fun in the dark in the past fifteen years than my last wife, and at a cheaper price, John Lasseter."
"That's one of the best introductions I've ever had," John said, taking the podium. He took time to thank LACMA: "I came here a lot when I was in CalArts and as a Disney animator. I grew up in Whittier, went to CalArts, then Disney, and there was a feeling with my fellow 'CalArtians' that at the time we were there, that though animation was, at that time, seen as just for kids, that it was meant for everyone. Walt Disney never made a film just for kids. Chuck Jones, who inspired me the most, never did." Sixties and seventies TV animation, he noted, did seem to be aimed at kids.