Snout
By James Decker
Could animation become the Lingua Franca of the new entertainment,
education, and information economy? Some would say no, animation and
pictures cannot communicate everything that verbal language accomplishes.
Even if television production on shows like Beetle Borgs has successfully
combined action sequences shot in Japan with dramatic sequences and
dialogue shot in California to tap multiple markets, this can only
work with kids stuff. For kids dialogue can be kept to a minimum,
cheesy effects are considered cool rather than… well, cheesy.
People outgrow Saturday morning cartoons with their exaggerated power
fantasies. They're not interested in or convinced by characters named
Wolf Blitzer, Stormin' Norman, or Dubya. Errr… well, it's not
exactly the same, anyway. There does seem to be a character of thought,
a familiar kind of reason that is expressed in the quick sketch or
the catchy name. After centuries of print culture, and for centuries
before on scrolls, stones, and cave walls there has persisted a recognizable
yet minimalist style which does speak to all ages and even to all
cultures. So, while pen and ink sketches have traditionally been bound
in newsprint it is important to recognize a capacity for communication
and a kind of reflective reason that has never been exclusively bound.
At present, hardcover Dilbert outsells Thomas Pynchon's Mason
and Dixon. Pynchon is clearly the funnier of the two. So what
is it? Not humor. Art Spiegelman's Maus shows that the accessibility
of the form that does make it suitable for kids in no way precludes
it from achieving relevance and insight. Whether the form of comics
is tightly bound up with, or merely an apt expression of "everyman"
sensibilities, the form frequently (if sometimes quietly) appears
at the forefront of most cross-cultural culture. Cross-cultural experiences
are not rapid assimilations or fadish Beatles-deluded migrations to
ready and waiting ancient wisdom, they are iconic overlaps, they come
as ingredients in our food, cuts of our clothing, abstracted sketches
of facial features, and humorous gestures.
If a Lingua Franca of the global village (as distinct from business
English) could begin with a foundation of mutually intelligible imagery
and iconography, simple text commentary could bring verbal communication
into play. Translated on the fly, or with minimal effort, images and
text could travel in all directions if combined with narrative conventions
for representing time, showing actions, and seeking satisfaction.
These convertible representations may be different from experiences
of passive media that have been subtitled or dubbed. The space for
reflection, as distinct from recognition or diversion, may be important
to this difference. Reflection makes possible a sense of shared culture,
of viewing the same content, the same message, and the same meaning
as those faces we tried to make out and that Nathanael West's Day
of Locusts teaches us were not them anyway. Increasingly, we are becoming
accustomed to content, perspectives, humor, style, and dare we say
values that cross cultural boundaries. Can it be long before an American
adult suddenly sits bolt upright and suggests out loud that there
is some difference between Islam and the Taliban? Ok, ok, we're getting
way ahead of ourselves here.
Back to the beautiful present, consider http://www.snout.nl/welkom/cinemaonline
.html. Unless you can read Dutch, just click unknowingly on a
few things before switching to the English version of the same site.
Anything happen? Any ideas about language learning in public schools?
Any ideas about American adolescents one-upping kids from other cultures,
without reaching for their father's ICBM? It's only a thought, and
it's potential might not occur to everyone right away, particularly
when we've learned to narrow our expectations of cross-cultural exchanges
to fit within strictly clinical contexts. No matter how well executed,
entertaining, and talented, sites like Snout are unlikely to take
popular culture by storm. It is increasingly becoming cool to have
knowledge, style, and friends from far away places. It is also worth
noting that Snout keeps itself contained, representing the kind of
calm you can expect when dealing with particular people on the Web.
These kinds of experiences are not just preferable, they are more
meaningful than giant Web portals that resembling Val-Pak coupon mailers
torn open. Snout doesn't shout it's message. You may not even be aware
of its dual presence in English and Dutch speaking communities, but
sometimes the subtler messages, whether on CNN, the silver screen,
or deep inside your Spanish textbook, are the ones that truly hit
home. If the choice existed, I may even feel inclined to leave a few
coins for the producers of Snout, wherever they are.