I'm going to be casting a critical eye on the current state of machinema for this fall's OtherZine. My initial motivation was to evaluate the process, it's DIY filmmaking taken to the next level. Building a world is necessarily more open-ended, and involves more in terms of people and culture, than just building a set.
As of a few months ago, the machinema I'd seen was only adequate or conventional, in terms of line quality (which has to be simple because complex line patterns would not stream well), shot composition, and of course narrative. Short films everywhere, especially animations, are susceptible to the one-liner syndrome, where there is a big build-up to the single, often gothic, point. Or on the other extreme, they are pretty and ambient with no narrative arc whatever. I have no huge reason to suspect this has changed, although I'll be looking.
But what interests me more is the process. Building a world for itself, not for the express purpose of making a film, and then eventually making a film within that world, seems to be not only about individual or group expression, but about this strange impulse we have to copy everything. Our art so often involves duplicating aspects of our world: novels, realistic painting, photography, film, virtual worlds, video games. But what if we could extend it even further, what then? What if we could duplicate the world so perfectly that experiencing the latest artwork felt like - actually being there? Would this be worth it? Because, you know, we are already actually there. What is the impulse for these ever more elaborate copies? What do we get out of them? And where might they be leading?
