Tribeca Film Fest: Part I.iv

I'm a great fan of animation, but somehow John Canemaker was a name unknown to me. Since it sez here his animated short, The Moon and The Son, won an Oscar last year, I figured it was time to get to know him. Little did I know . . .

THE ANIMATED WORLD OF JOHN CANEMAKER: There were several shorts spanning a long career, notably The Wizard's Son, a delightful tale told without words, Bridgehampton, a Fantasia-inspired leafy meditation in celebration of a move he made with his family to said town, and a short interview with/documentary about Otto Mesmer, the unsung animator of the old-time Krazy Kat cartoons. Of these, I particularly enjoyed Bridgehampton and the Mesmer documentary. And I liked the whole series because each of them was vastly different from the others, showing not professional growth so much as a depth of skill.

But nothing prepared me for The Moon and The Son, the story of his father, of his relationship with his father. It is presented as an imagined conversation with his recently deceased dad. In many more ways than one, it is a revelation. For one thing, there were the secret parts of his dad's life, beginning with the matter of his birth. "So, dad, where in Italy were you born?" "Hazelton, Pennsylvania" is the reply. (although I am probably not remembering the exact town correctly) That the story unfolds engagingly, intelligently; that the art, the animation, the presentation is spot on really goes without saying. I expected all that even as I was sitting there admiring the extraordinary craft of the piece. And I expected, too, a resolution to the strained relationship between father and son, a coming-of-age, a coming-to-understanding, a forgiveness ... that is, after all, how such explorations are supposed to conclude. Isn't it?

It disturbed me that things did not wrap up so neatly here. Bothered the bejabbers outta me it did. I thought and thought and thought and couldn't stop thinking about it. How could you look so deeply into a life, how could you live your own --- certainly flawed, isn't everyone's life flawed somehow, don't everyone's expectations not just of others but of themselves fall short in one way or another? -- and come away so ... so ... so unforgiving? I thought about my own relationship with my father. My family's various relationships with him. How was it different with us? Why was it different?

And as I thought and thought and argued with myself I began to understand that I had just seen perhaps the most emotionally honest film I'd ever experienced. Heck, no perhaps about it. And how valuable that is. And it is an animated film ... and perhaps indeed it is because of that that it can be so honest.

An Academy Award. It won an Academy Award. No wonder. And ... very probably ... not a high enough award for so thought-provoking, so honest, a piece of work.

CELEBRITY SIGHTING: John Canemaker himself was present for Q & A. Among other things, we learned that Fantasia is his favorite film. And that his real last name, which he never legally changed, is of course that of his father, Cannazarra. So why Canemaker? Seems he'd aspired to being an actor and when he was signing his first acting contract, he was told that Cannazarra was too "ethnic" and in searching for something more acceptable, someone decided that Cannazarra probably translates into Canemaker. Sure. Whatever. The son took it on profesionally and, as he said, is stuck with it.