GITS Q&A, Part 3: Mary Coleman (Pixar)

Today we continue with a week long exclusive interview with Mary Coleman, senior development executive at Pixar Animation Studios. In Part 3, we discuss Pixar’s embrace of both conventional and unconventional narrative elements, and the recurring dynamic of ‘strange sojourners’ in their stories:

SM: So there is this love for story and commitment to storytelling, much of it evidently based upon traditional influences like Aristotle and Joseph Campbell. But then there is another aspect of Pixar movies that is pretty distinctive and that is some of the unconventional choices you make in terms of characters. For example in Ratatouille, we’re talking about rats and food…

MC: [laughs] We always joke if we had to pitch our movies to a Hollywood studio, who would green light a movie about rats cooking? Or about an old man and a chubby scout? It would be really hard to get in the door with those ideas. But because we’re committing to the artist first and foremost — we’re saying, “We believe in you and your vision” — they don’t have to sell their ideas on the focus-group driven market place. We’re able to get away with some pretty unconventional stories because we’re up here in this bubble in Emeryville.

SM: I know Pixar has pushed the envelope in terms of animation technology. Are the unconventional stories you choose to tell a reflection of an attitude that is present there, to do something different, or is it more about the director having a passion for telling a particular story?

MC: That’s a good question. We’re not consciously trying to push the envelope. It’s more that the directors here have a unique vision and we’re getting behind that. But the directors aren’t setting out to be experimental. In some ways our movies are very conventional, in terms of story conventions like character arcs. If you look at all of our movies there’s a protagonist who starts with a flaw, goes on a journey, and comes out the other end a better person… or rat… or fish.

SM: It seems like a lot of Pixar movies have what I call ‘strange sojourners,’ essentially buddies. Woody and Buzz in Toy Story, Sulley and Boo in Monsters, Inc., Marlin and Dory in Finding Nemo, Wall-E and Eve in Wall-E, Carl and Russell in Up. Is there an instinct or mindset toward matching two disparate types?

MC: I wouldn’t say we set out each time to make a buddy picture. The director may start out with a strong idea about the main character. But because we tell stories where the protagonist grows and changes, and, like all humans, we grow and change in relation to others, then it naturally unfolds that the protagonist needs to be in a relationship. Carl was alone for the first year of Up until Tom McCarthy introduced Russell. That really opened things up. Our stories are not only character driven, they’re relationship driven. Our next up [Brave] is a mother-daughter story, very relationship driven.

SM: I’ve seen comments made by John and others about how strongly Pixar feels about finding points of emotional connection. The strength of these buddy type of narrative arrangements can really highlight some of the key dynamics going on with the Protagonist. For example, Marlin in Finding Nemo, what’s his big problem?

MC: He’s overprotective. But we sympathize because we saw the prologue where his wife and several thousand of their eggs were devoured by a barracuda, and only Nemo survived. So you forgive Marlin for wanting to hold on so tightly to Nemo.

Originally Andrew didn’t have the prologue. He had flashbacks dole out why Marlin acts the way he does. But then the Brain Trust said, ‘We find Marlin really unappealing because he’s such a nag. It’s hard to root for him. If we knew up front why he’s this way, we’d be rooting for him more.’ Andrew tried it. It helps that the reels process makes it easy to move things around and try them in different places. And he agreed it worked better. That doesn’t mean we always have to have prologues (though the prologue went a long way in Up in helping us forgive Carl’s curmudgeonliness!). We don’t want to lock into a formula and say, ‘From now on we have prologues that explain the character’s emotional flaw.’

There have been a lot of moments where we have to find that balance: you want your main characters to start off flawed so they have an arc, yet if you go too far you make them unappealing. That’s where the Brain Trust can really serve directors. To say, ‘Ooh, you went too far on that one!’ Or, ‘You didn’t go far so now there’s no room for growth.’ That is a dance we do on every movie.

When I said that our movies are “conventional” I mean that we embrace some age-old storytelling conventions. We figure they’ve stood the test of time for a reason. For example, we hope are movies are cathartic. We’re happy to hear that TS3 made a grown man blubber just thinking about his kid going off to college. We’re not afraid to be sentimental. And while it may not be as formal as a mission statement, it’s just ingrained that we want to make uplifting movies.

SM: In terms of story conventions, I’ve done a lot of work on Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung who heavily influenced Campbell — character archetypes, narrative archetypes — and those resonate in stories because they have power, they exist in our individual and collective consciousness, there’s a reason why they have been around for thousands and thousands of years.

MC: I know some of the directors here have been inspired by the wonderful Bill Moyers Power of Myth series. Some attended McKee’s seminar and got a lot out of it. And we all learned from Mike Arndt (he says the same about us.) He approaches story in terms internal stakes, external stakes, and philosophical stakes. I wouldn’t say we start with a theme, like “I want to make a movie that teaches people blah blah blah.” The directors start from a very personal place. ‘I realized I was an overprotective father so I want to make a movie about that.’ Or for John ‘I was on the fast track and missing out on my family, and I realized the journey is the reward.’

Sometimes the seed is more whimsical. Pete was an imaginative kid who really did think there were monsters in his closet, then as an adult came up with the twist that the monsters were afraid of the kids. It starts with something personal, then as the stories unfold we’re influenced by models that have been around for a very long time.

SM: We see that point of personal connection in Up very profoundly, don’t we? We start off with Carl as a boy, meeting young Ellie, then losing her in that poignant sequence of their married life together. And having experienced the loss of Ellie, Carl is almost ‘life-less,’ left to string out the remaining days of his life. Then he goes on this big journey to South America, accompanied by Russell, who is an adventurer and full of life. And here again, strange sojourners — an old man fading from life, a young boy full of life. Yet each has their own shadow: Carl who has a void where Ellie used to be, Russell who has a void where his father used to be. Those internal dynamics push the pair as they go on their external journey, all the while overcoming obstacles and over time forming a connection. And per this idea of the philosophical stakes, for Carl isn’t it finally a story of resurrection?

MC: Absolutely. Carl has been living the past, not even living, just biding his time until he dies and joins Ellie. He stopped living when she died. So yes, it’s a rebirth story because by the end he’s able to have a new relationship in the present. And it’s sweet because while the primary relationship is with Russell, by accepting the unconditional love of the dog Doug, letting him come in, jump on him, and be his dog, you’ve got a satisfying B-plot of another present-tense relationship.

This part of the interview puts a spotlight on a key aspect of why I think Pixar is successful: They understand, appreciate and embrace conventional storytelling principles, yet explore unconventional story concepts, characters and settings. A rat in a restaurant. A monster and a little girl. An old man and a wilderness explorer in a flying house. It’s as if in accepting the age-old elements of story, they find the freedom to stretch the boundaries of what narrative elements one can explore within that context.

We will learn more about this in tomorrow in Part 4 when we discuss setting and subculture.

For Part 1 of the interview, go here.

Part 2, go here.

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