animation archive

Boy with The Incredible Brain

Video | | Paul Greer



“…One is like bright light. Two is a movement from left to right. Five is like a clap of thunder or the sound of a wave against a rock.”

Daniel Tammet is known as an “autistic savant” and has often written about his life with high-functioning autism and savant syndrome, this film aimed to illustrate his mental process and synaesthetic mental process with numbers.

“Daniel can do calculations to 100 decimal places in his head, and learn a language in a week. ‘The Boy With The Incredible Brain’ follows Daniel as he travels to America to meet the scientists who are convinced he may hold the key to unlocking similar
abilities in everyone. He also meets the world’s most famous savant, KIm Peek, the man who inspired Dustin Hoffman’s character in the Oscar winning film ‘Rain Man’”

At BDH we were challenged to find a visual language to illustrate Daniel’s thought patterns for this, and my contribution were the numbers themselves.

Toad

Video | | Paul Greer
Toad

16 years later and I managed to get my shit together and make myself another animated short.

Time has been limited, so although a bit low on the content side, it’s mostly gut instinct, with hardly any sensible thought getting in the way.

It’s called “Toad” and you can see it at either MySpace or YouTube, depending on which side you like your corporate bread buttered.

Hopefully, it ‘s the first of a few, and next time, I might even start with a script.

Screaming for Rosalind

Video | | Paul Greer

Dear Lonesome Reader,

This is proper, spill my guts out time.

Screaming for Rosalind is a very short piece of animation I made a very time long ago.

It is part of a 5 minute film called “Commercials for Everyday Life”, which got itself shown at the 1991 london Film Festival alongside the work of industry legends such as Liz Whitaker and the Quay Brothers.

 

No computers were touched during the making of this work. It’s all peg bars, pencils, paper, rostrum cameras and 16mm.

The voice was provided by esteemed stage and screen actress, Veronica Quilligan, who took my inane teenage poem and imbued it with a life and gravity I could never have imagined.

The drawing is a bit crap and the animation a bit clunky, but its the only part of the film I can currently bear to watch all the way through.

 

Who knows, when I become more immune to internet dignicide, I may choose to post the other four parts.