Coop and Steve explore the sometimes cute, sometimes creepy world of stop-motion animation.
CONTENT WARNING: This edition of This Week in Anime features discussion and images of titles that contain intense violence, blood, and other potentially upsetting subject matter. Reader discretion is advised.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by the participants in this chatlog are not the views of Anime News Network.
Spoiler Warning for discussion of the series ahead.
Gal and Dino and Pop Team Epic are available on Crunchyroll. BEASTARS, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio, Kubo and the Two Strings, Pokémon Concierge, Pui Pui Molcar, and Rilakkuma and Kaoru stream on Netflix. Jason and the Argonauts and The Adventures of Mark Twain are available on Tubi. Isle of Dogs is on Disney+. Mad God is available on Hoopla. Gumby is on Roku. The Boxtrolls, Coraline, and JUNK HEAD are available on VOD only.
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Steve
Coop, I was all ready to kick off this column with a tight five-Seinfeld riff on stop-motion. "What's the deal? Are they stopping, or are they motioning? Make up your mind!" Just a whole lot of that. Unfortunately, I respect you, myself, and our readers too much to follow through, so I'm going with Plan B: looking at this Wingull.

Coop
That's a mighty head-pat-able Wingull you've got there, Steve! Seems like they'd take a pat, no problem.
It's actually a huge problem because I want to hug it soooo bad, but I can't. I have half a mind to stake a heist on dwarf studios warehouse to nab the model for myself.
But if you do that, you might end up tripping over a Psyduck, Rilakkuma, and a Taiyo Matsumoto character or two! This brings us to our topic for today—some good old stop-motion animation! It seems like the perfect opportunity, too, cause it sounds like Tekkonkinkreet's Michael Arias is taking some time to soak in the Sunny alongside the aforementioned dwarf studios.

It's been about four years since we last broached the subject here as part of our "alternative animation" feature. While that information makes my bones creak, it also means there's plenty of new and old stuff for us to explore in the sometimes-fuzzy and sometimes-uncanny world of stop-motion.
That Sunny news is wild, though. Totally out of nowhere, yet a perfect fit for Matsumoto's offbeat manga vibes. I can't wait to hear more about it.

It'll be a while before it's finished (the studio estimates a 2029 completion date), but the praise I've heard from all the creatives involved has me curious to check out the final product. However, I found myself even more intrigued when I dipped into dwarf's recent efforts—starting with Rilakkuma and Kaoru. Who knew fluffy felt pancakes could look so appealing?

Well, when they're not burnt, that is...

Man, what a special little show that was. I remember watching it for TWIA back when it came out and being caught off guard by how sincerely it handled stuff like the anxiety and depression of joining the workforce. In the show about the giant sentient stuffed bear! What a combination.


But if you ask me, the stop-motion aspect is what helped sell that strange combo. I think it exists in a more liminal space than most art forms, which allows it to do surprising things.
Absolutely. I've always appreciated stop-motion animation in the very same way I've loved practical effects. Heck, they're pretty much the same thing. Through the creation of puppets, sets, and props, a reality is established because all of these elements physically exist. The resultant disconnect in the viewer's brain is fascinating because you can generally identify each element as familiar, but something is just off enough to really get the brain going. I wouldn't say it's an uncanny valley effect, but it does kind of play in that same brain space.
It's also a space I've been captivated by for about as long as I can remember. Watching Jason and the Argonauts when I was really young was a formative experience. It scared the shit out of me, sure, but Ray Harryhausen's craft lodged itself in my brain for decades to come.

Granted, ancient Greek skeletons are a far cry from Furret, but the spectrum of stop motion is another one of its charms.

True, the fact that we can go from Keita Amemiya bugman horrors to the cutest little Eevee you've ever seen speaks volumes about the medium's versatility.


The duality of man, indeed
On the topic of Pokémon Concierge... I don't know if it's the fact that Pokémon rule the world or that dwarf studios has become even stronger at their craft, but something about the series clicked with me in a way Rilakkuma didn't exactly achieve.
Yes, the studio has absolutely upped their game—from materials used to the vastness of the sets they've crafted, that Pokémon money is allowing these artists to shine like never before. The series is painfully relatable when it comes to the subjects of burnout, living up to expectations in the workplace, and simply allowing yourself to breathe for a moment.
Especially on the latter point, it almost feels like an old friend who comes to check up on us because they know we've been going through it. But at the same time, they know we're no longer the kids we were back when we played together.
It's very much working in the same tonal and thematic space as Rilakkuma, but for me, the X-factor is that I get to see at least one heart-wrenchingly cute Pokémon every scene. That adds up. I am not immune to the sight of an animated plastic Wooper.

There are chemicals my brain only releases in response to a Pokémon-themed Hawaiian shirt. I don't have control over that.

So, of course, they're coming out with a new season later this year. They'd be silly not to.
I guess it's time for you to plan a Pokémon Center trip, Steve! Lest you be visited by the ghost of sketchy Instagram fashion ads.
If they keep coming out with more Concierge every few years, I can probably ride out the rest of existence haunting-free. While Sunny's production might throw a wrench into those plans, I'm okay with that too. Dwarf can clearly handle short-form animation just fine, so I'm eager to see how they approach a movie-length project. Not to mention, movie-length stop-motion animation is something of a rarity in itself.
No kidding, the only recent-ish Western stop-motion features I can think of are Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio, Wes Anderson's Isle of Dogs, and Phil Tippett's Mad God—which took Tippett almost 30 years to complete.



And all of these films have been released sporadically over the past decade and change.
That's not too surprising, either, if you think about just how labor-intensive a stop-motion production is. Every single thing you see on screen has to be designed, made, posed, and photographed thousands of times. Everything. The only American studio putting these films out regularly is Laika, and that's largely thanks to Travis Knight being the beneficiary of the Nike fortune.
So could you say that Laika's...walking on AIR?
[ahem] On that note, I went to a Laika exhibit a couple of years ago, and it really illuminated a lot of those points about the difficulty of stop-motion production. You can intuitively know the sheer number of props they have to use in a film, but it's another thing to see just a fraction of them splayed out in front of you.

Or how the boat in Kubo and the Two Strings really is covered in an unfathomable amount of small individual leaves that someone had to glue on there.

My goodness! As you said, it's one thing to see these elements on the screen, but it's a whole different deal when you zoom out and get a sense of the space they occupy. I can't imagine the painstaking work that would have been needed to adjust the leaf placement from shot to shot, either.
One of the neatest takeaways I got was the importance of 3D printing to the art form as it currently exists. Back in the day, stop-motion was largely done with clay or other moldable materials that had enough plasticity to accommodate movement and, more importantly, facial expressions. But you can now achieve the same kind of range with plastic by 3D printing a library of face plates and swapping them out from frame to frame.

Wow, I imagine that probably saves on headaches and wasted time when it comes to photography, especially because it's just one less thing to think about on the day of.
It certainly seems preferable to molding things by hand, bit by bit, but I imagine it comes with its own set of behind-the-scenes headaches. The last thing I'll mention is that it's difficult to get a sense of scale when watching the finished products. Like, I always imagine these scenes playing out in toy-sized dioramas, but depending on the complexity required, these props can get enormous.

That's honestly one of my favorite things about miniatures and props like that big ol' guy, it's all about how they look in the camera rather than outside it. Say what you will about the game it's made to promote, but the process behind the fabrication of this Starfield ship is a great illustration of the time and skill required for these endeavors.
If you're interested in being the fly on the wall of a shop, Adam Savage's Tested is a wonderful peek into the world of prop and miniature creation for film.
Because it's such a tactile craft, I think people are just naturally inclined to be fascinated by its creation. By no means do I have the data to back this up, but I'd bet that stop-motion animation is the visual art form most likely to be advertised with behind-the-scenes footage. Seriously, look up a trailer or promotional video for a stop-motion film and see if it shows a timelapse of people arranging small figures on a large table with a camera nearby.Just kidding, I already did that for you. Here's a JUNK WORLD trailer.

Now That's What I Call Visually Arresting And Uncanny Stop Motion Animation! Vol. 97
If we're talking about stop motion from Japan, specifically, then we can't forget JUNK HEAD. In fact, if you've seen JUNK HEAD, then it is physiologically impossible to forget JUNK HEAD.
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I feel like something was grafted onto my back while watching this flick...and it might be wiggling on my back as we speak. JUNK HEAD is just this mix of fascinating, upsetting, and awe-inspiring that I can't quite place a mental bead on... However, the fact that it took director Takahide Hori seven years to produce this film all by himself is probably the most admirable aspect of the film for me. I'm glad it seems like he got a little help on the upcoming prequel.
Its one-man cult-hit success is the feel-good story on top of the profound strangeness and grossness of the film itself. I couldn't believe it when I heard it was getting a sequel, but I guess that's yet another stop-motion spectacle to look forward to this year. I'm crossing my fingers that we get some stateside showings. And I'm glad to see that it's doubling down on Hori's fundamental strength as an artist: molding weird little dudes.


I've seen some mention of JUNK HEAD and Mad God in the same breath due to their directors' propensities for molding those weird dudes, and this short interview with Phil Tippett sheds a little light on the traditional dude-making methods.
That freak factor is something you lose a bit of when you move away from clay or gypsum or whathaveyou. While there's a fundamental uncanniness to the format, you need the imperfections in your stop-motion substrate to create something truly nightmarish.

That's why, for instance, you can't have a conversation about stop-motion without someone bringing up that Mark Twain movie with Satan in it. In fact, I'm doing that right now.

I just punched "Mark Twain stop motion" into Google, and that last question says a lot.

Why indeed. But I love it when creators really lean into that angle. One of my favorite independent stop-motion artists has been making short Splatterhouse films for YouTube for nearly as long as YouTube has existed.
I am sooooooo thrilled you've brought takena, because (and I say this lovingly) love the brutal, Gumby-from-hell, slasher flick vibes of their work. It's all so disarming yet alarming.

They were one of my earliest YouTube subscriptions. A true master of their craft. Like, this is just a pile of clay, but I feel like I might need to censor it before posting.

And, again, while stop motion is very labor-intensive, it seems to attract the type of solo artist who is willing to dedicate their life (or at least all of their free time) to putting these pieces together. The very definition of passion projects.
Absolutely! But oh boy, I can't stop thinking about how Gumby: The Movie rewrote my brain chemistry when I was about 7 years old. Even in this kid's film, there's a bit of that unsettling atmosphere we've been talking about.
Gumby, even at its most innocuous, is too surreal not to have an impact, especially when you're young. I don't think I ever saw the movie, but I saw more than enough of the TV show.
There's also a litany of abstract stop-motion animation hiding out there. This is one by Katsushi Boda that's been in my YouTube favorites for ages. No idea where I found it. No idea if the video description is accurate. But it's mesmerizing all the same.
In the realm of YouTube stop-motion, I've always been fond of how Transformers and other figures were manipulated to create short films. In fact, I remember using my Animated Optimus Prime and Ratchet figures for a class project in high school...and well, let's just say my animation wasn't exactly smooth. However, it's gratifying to see Takara Tomy take notice of these fan works and make their own shorts for Transformers' 40th Anniversary.
It's especially impressive to me when you see artists manipulating figures that were engineered with play and transformation in mind, not projects like this.
Yeah, that's super cool! And another reminder that there's no one "correct" medium for stop-motion animation. If you're dedicated/crazy enough, you can animate just about anything.
That being said, I'm a big fan of the felt and fuzzies found in anime as of late. . BEASTARS. Pop Team Epic. Pui Pui Molcar. It's enough to make you want to stick your hand straight through your computer monitor.
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Look at all of these potential pillows, waiting for me to fall asleep upon them.
Pui Pui Molcar, in some ways, still feels more inexplicable to me than the Pop Team Epic anime. This, too, is the magic of stop motion.

After reading your and Nicky's gush about the series, I think I should probably welcome these fuzzy fellows into my heart, too. They might offset the amount of weird and unsettling members of the Gumby family lurking in the depths of my subconscious.
Oh! I almost forgot: the director, Tomoki Misato, is making a Kuromi stop-motion anime later this year.
I guess if there's one takeaway I have for this column at this particular moment in time, it's that I'm glad artists are still making stop-motion in 2025. We have multiple projects on the immediate horizon and one big film adaptation to look forward to in the far-flung future. Given the amount of overhead, labor, skill, and time these projects require, I can't take that for granted.
I couldn't have said it any better myself. I love that stop motion provides nothing but wild and twisty roads for artists to navigate—be they light and comfy or dark and disorienting. And with that, our mission is accomplished, Pokey—er Steve! Off to the next great adventure!
