A (somewhat, but not really) brief history of animation.

Emeterio (1961) was a political propaganda animated short, with color and synchronized sound. The author is unknown.

In Brazil, Sinfonia Amazônica (1954), a black-and-white compilation of seven Brazilian legends in a style primarily influenced by Disney, was the first feature length animated film. Despite its success, director Anélio Lattini Filho didn’t receive monetary compensation to match the six years he spent working on it, so he switched to working on advertisement animation short, which was the main form of animation produced in Brazil.

Colombia witnessed the emergence of commercial animation in 1960 thanks to a new group of animators, inspired by foreign productions; and the arrival of the Frenchman Robert Rossé, who worked with Corafilm to make advertising shorts. Soon after, Cinesistema was born, a production company of short films and advertising commercials to which Corafilm artists were transferred and new ones were added. In the late seventies and early eighties, the production of animated material was in great demand in the field of advertising. Here Nelson Ramírez’s production company stands out, which produced more than 1000 commercials. Within auteur animation, there are two important figures: Fernando Laverde, a filmmaker known for his stop motion children's short films (El país de Bellaflor, 1972); and Carlos Santa, an artist who explored the world of animation through the visual arts (El pasajero de la noche, 1988). In particular, the former would be responsible for creating the first feature films in the country: La pobre viejecita (1978) and Cristóbal Colón (1983).

Karel Zeman’s Vynález Zkázy (1957), retitled as “The Fabulous World of Jules Verne” for North American distribution, was science fiction adventure movie loosely based on several novels by Jules Verne, primarily his 1896 novel Facing the Flag (with which the film shares its Czech title). It was arguably the first steam-punk film, long before the term “steampunk” was first coined by author K.W. Jeter in 1987.

It is a truly hybrid animation. The film has long been noted for its unique visual style, which faithfully recreates that of the Victorian line engravings (by Gustave Dore, Leon Bennet, and Edouard Riou) featured in the original editions of Verne’s novels. Zeman came up with a wholly original stylistic idea of bringing the old illustrations to life via animation and any cinematic tricks available at the time: double exposure, miniatures, stop-motion… For the live-action segments of the film, the costumes had engraving-like hatching patterns, and even stock footage clips were adapted for the effect by printing the film with lined filters and matted-in sky backgrounds.

Some of Zeman’s other films include: Baron Munchausen (1961), A Jester’s Tale (1964) and Krabat: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (1977). Shorts: Inspirace (1949), and the Pan Proukock (1947-1959) and Sinbad (1971-1974) series.

A Midsummer’s Night Dream (1959) was the last animated puppet film directed by Jiri Trnka. Throughout his career Trnka experimented with different animation techniques, from traditional cartoons in his first shorts to animation with shadow puppets. However, his preferred method, and the one he is best known for, was stop-motion puppet work. Other films: Emperor’s Nightingale (1948), Prince Bayaya (1950), Old Czech Legends (1953), and The Good Soldier Svejk (1955). Shorts: Story of a Bass (1949), Western parody A Song of The Prairie (1949), the cut-out A Merry Circus (1951), and The Hand (1965).

Jan Švankmajer’s Alice (1988) was a surreal adaptation of Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Rusty doors creak eerily, sawdust rustles, the white rabbit frequently disintegrates, the Blue Caterpillar forms itself out of dentures and an old sock, skulls and skeletons that come to life, and Alice herself changes from a human character to a doll and back. He came to animation from the experimental theater movement of Prague, and his work combined human figures and stop-motion animation to create “disturbingly carnal meditations on sexuality and mortality.” Other works include the short Dimensions of Dialogue (1982), and the feature length films Faust (1994) and Conspirators of Pleasure (1996).

The arrival of television, especially with the emergence of Televisión Nacional de Chile in 1969, allowed the reappearance of Chilean animation. Among the most outstanding milestones are the creation of Tevito, TVC's mascot during the government of Salvador Allende; Los Angelitos (1972-1999), the mascots of Canal 13; and the adaptation of Condorito to the small screen, a co-production of the Corporación de Televisión de la Universidad Católica de Chile and Televisión Española consisting of television short films.

In February 1950 the northeast group combined with other divisions to become the Shanghai Animation Film Studio. The Wan brothers, Central Academy of Fine Arts, the Art Institute of Suzhou and many other big name artists would all be concentrated in this studio for the first time. Among the talent was Japanese animator Tadahito Mochinaga who spent time in Shanghai creating Thank You, Kitty. Three years later he departed for Japan, becoming possibly the only artist to have worked in both Chinese and Japanese industry during the era.

The Wan brothers created their first colored animation of notable length titled Why is the Crow Black-Coated? (1956) which became the first Chinese animation recognized internationally.

In April 1957 the central government began sponsoring the studio, making it the nation’s first and official animation factory. From the technology standpoint, China’s animation was still relatively on pace with the rest of the world. In 1958 ,the Wan brothers created a new animation film technique based on the folk art cut-paper animation, which they used in Pigsy Eats Watermelon. At the same time another technique called origami animation was also developed by Yu Zheguang in the film A Clever Duckling (1960). Also in 1960 the first set of animation film exhibitions were held in 6 major Chinese cities, including Shanghai and Beijing, followed by exhibitions in Hong Kong in 1962 and Macau in 1963.

The Wan brothers received the most recognition for their film Havoc in Heaven, since it was well known among the general public. The development spanned 4 years from 1961 to 1964. It ran for nearly two hours pushing the technology to the limit with some of the most vivid colors ever put to the screen.

Animations were considered technological marvels in China up until the Cultural Revolution kicked into full gear in 1966.The revolution was widely known for the Red Guard destruction crusades that destroyed artifacts, antiques, paintings, books and anything of conflicting value. Some of the artists were humiliated, forced to become farmers in the countryside, accept “education” or were sent to prison. Some of the famous artists in the film and literature industry chose to commit suicide rather than to be humiliated. Most of the animators were not allowed to draw and were forced to do labor work. The persecutions would grow exponentially worse from 1966 to 1972, labeling the period "catastrophic" for the industry.

In 1967, Shanghai Animation Film Studio was renamed the Red Guard Film Studio and remained so until June 15, 1977. In 1973, animators slowly returned to the studio controlled by the Red Guards and were forced to create films to fit government approval. Animations such as Little Trumpeter (1973), a story about a young boy who joins the Red Guard after being mistreated by his landlord; Little 8th Route Army (1973), a story about a boy taking on revenge against the imperial Japanese army; and Little Sentinel of East China Sea (1973), a story about a young girl who disguised herself to follow three chemical warfare workers to a beachside location, where she exposes them, leading to their capture by the People’s Liberation Army.

The Chinese animation industry was practically put on pause for a decade until 1976 when the Cultural Revolution was over. During this ten-year period, government policies imposed strict restrictions on animators and caused a drain of creative talents—setting the industry decades behind internationally. When the Mao Era ended in the late 1970s the Chinese animation industry enjoyed a brief period of domestic growth. But from the theater standpoint, the majority of cartoons in Hong Kong were imported from the US. It was typical to play American movies in major cinemas preceded by an American cartoon segment. Sometimes the segment would even be shown in its entirety. And Japan had already emerged as the dominant animation provider in East Asia. Their export of anime television series reached Hong Kong, Europe and the Middle East in mass quantities via television broadcasts. It was difficult for China to compete directly at home or on the big screen. Nonetheless the Chinese animation industry would begin to make their comeback: Shanghai Animation Film Studio launched 219 animation films in the 1980s. In 1979 Nezha was one of the first notable animations shown during the rebirth period. Among the works Three Monks (1980) was one of the few animations that managed to earn awards. Other films include Snow Kid (1980), Lao Mountain Taoist (1981), The Deer’s Bell (1982) and Legend of Sealed Book (1983).

In 1959, with the triumph of the Revolution, the Cartoon Department was founded at the Instituto Cubano de Arte e Industria Cinematográficos (ICAIC). The conception of animation as a means of propaganda made the Cuban regime strongly bet on its development through the training of artists, the purchase of technological equipment, and the large budget allocation. The first audiovisuals were aimed at building the idea of the Cuban “hombre nuevo,” but that doesn’t mean there was an absence of experimental works. In both cases, here the most prolific author was Juan de Armas, with works such as El maná (1960), La prensa seria (1960) and El cowboy (1962).

During the 60s, cartoons were widely used on Televisión Cubana (TVC) for filling in space between programs, advertisement spots, or propaganda. In this field, the main exponents were Luis Castillo and Gaspar González.

In the ’70s, Cuba strengthened production of animations aimed at children. Its content results in a marked interest in the formation of values and the patriotic sense of identity, although it wasn’t devoid of humor and lightheartedness. One example of this is the character of Elpidio Valdés (a Mambí colonel transformed into a Cuban superhero), created by Juan Padrón. The evidence of its great popularity is not only found in the short films produced annually but also in different feature films such as Elpidio Valdés (1979), Elpidio Valdés contra Dólar y Cañón (1983) and Elpidio Valdés contra Águila y León (1995).

The ’80s would peak with the feature film Vampiros en la Havana (1985), an ingenious film for adults.

Picture this: a vampire scientist was developing a formula that would allow vampires to survive sunlight, and after many tests he thought he had perfected it in the 1920s. Dracula himself trusted him so much (they were relatives) that he took the formula and waited for dawn. Unfortunately, the formula wasn’t quite right yet, and Dracula burned down under the sunlight. The scientist, disgraced before the European Vampire Union (which Dracula had been the president of), takes his servant and his young vampire nephew with him to La Havana, reasoning his formula needs rum and piña colada.

Cut to the 1930s, where the nephew—now known as “Pepito”—has grown up under the sun thanks to a monthly dose of his uncle’s formula. Now a grown man, a trumpet player, and involved with revolutionaries, Pepito doesn’t even remember he was ever a vampire and believes the monthly doses his uncle gives him are just vitamins.

That changes when his uncle decides it is time to call the representatives of the European Vampire Union and a broadcaster for Radio Vampiro to present to them his formula, wanting the knowledge to be free and available for all vampire-kind.

Yeah, well, two problems with that idealistic sentiment. One, the European Vampire Union wants to be able to have a monopoly on selling the sunlight cure, so they wanna steal it for themselves. Two, La Capa Nostra, the Chicago-based vampire leaders of the U.S., have a business of speakeasy-like artificial indoor beaches for vampires that will go bankrupt if vampires can just go to normal beaches during the daytime, so they want to destroy the formula.

There is also the B-plot of Pepito’s human life where he and his friends (and his girlfriend Lola) clash with the police, and the film balanced it all quite well.

Unfortunately, this cinematic development was curtailed by the Cuban economic crisis that decreased animated production and led to the closure of the Televisión Cubana studios. Many artists and technicians emigrated to other areas or outside of Cuba. By the end of the 90s, however, production was slowly recovering as the economy improved.

The Animal Farm (1954), directed by George Halas and Joy Batchelor, was the first British animated feature ever made. It was an adaptation of George Orwell’s novel, though it was toned down in order to appeal to younger audiences while managing to stay mostly true to the original tale of the revolution on the farm.

Yellow Submarine (1968) is an animated meandering journey filled with puns and dry British humor, where psychedelic music videos take precedent over any linear story, which can be largely attributed to the animation team being forced to work without a completed script for several months after production had started. What little there is of a plot, however, concerns a vibrantly colored place called Pepperland that resembles the album cover for Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band come to life.

The U.S. and U.K. creative teams behind Yellow Submarine were provided with a quarter of the budget that an animation feature would cost at the time. To make matters worse, the film’s success hinged on The Beatles but there were signs that the band might split soon so the film had a predetermined premiere date that left the production team only 11 months to complete the entire film, a third of the standard Disney production schedule of roughly three years. (The Beatles didn’t announce their disbandment until 1970.)

Considering the budget and limited working time, the filmmakers had to resort to more experimental techniques and creative approaches. Director George Dunning came well equipped for this task as he had previously worked with experimental animation pioneer Norman McLaren at the National Film Board of Canada. The combination of Dunning’s experimental background and art director Heinz Edelmann’s vision for a medley of visual styles led to the inclusion of multiple animation techniques such as rotoscoping, which blended animation with live-action footage, photographs, and paintings, to offer a creative take on limited animation. Edelman brought his Neo-Liberty and psychedelic floral decorativism to give it the signature look, with the help of a team of talented animators (Paul Driessen and Gerald Potterton, among others).

The team behind Yellow Submarine were well aware that audiences of the late 1960s were accustomed to cartoons from Disney, Hanna-Barbera, and UPA, so they decided to create something as far removed from Disney as possible. What they did wasn’t new, exactly, but they brought a story unambiguously aimed at older audiences to a commercial feature animated project with mass appeal.

There were, of course, many animated television shows aimed at children made in this era such as: Noggin the Nog (1959-1965); The Magic Roundabout (1965-1977); Gordon Murray’s Trumptonshire Trilogy of Camberwick Green (1966), Trumpton (1967), and Chigley (1969); Clangers (1969-1972); The Wombles (1973-1975); Paddington (1976-1980); Danger Mouse (1981-1992); Postman Pat (1981-2013); Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends” (1984-2021); Dick Spanner, P.I. (1987); Count Duckula (1988-1993); and Penny Crayon (1989-1990).

Wallace and Gromit saw its beginnings as a graduation project by up-and-coming British filmmaker Nick Park, created for the National Film and Television School in 1982. A few years later, Aardman Animations helped Park out mid-production on this short film titled A Grand Day Out. The completed short premiered at an animation film festival in 1989 and had its television premiere a year later. In it, they build a rocket and go to the moon in search of cheese. With its unique style, humor, and inventiveness, it launched a successful and long-lasting franchise (including the spin-off franchise of Shaun the Sheep).

But there were also theatrical releases aimed at older audiences.

Watership Down (1978), directed by Martin Rosen, was an adaptation of Richard Adams’ book. The original director, John Hubley, passed away and was only able to complete some scenes. The story of a group of rabbits seeking a new warren to safely live and thrive in, and on the way enduring violence from man and beast alike is told without any sentiments or attempts to “anthropormize” the rabbits beyond having them speak to one another.

Martin Rosen also directed Plague Dogs (1982), which was another adaptation of Richard Adams’ work. Two dogs escape from the laboratory where they have been subjected to inhumane tests, and seek freedom and warmth, the things they have been denied all their lives. The ending was changed from the source novel to be more ambiguous.

When the Wind Blows (1986), directed by Jimmy Murakami, was an adaptation of the graphic novel by Raymond Briggs. It tells the story of James and Hilda, an elderly Sussex couple, clinging to their blind faith in the government’s advice for survival after a nuclear bomb attack. It doesn’t go well for them.

Puppet stop-motion animator Jan Švankmajer’s (see the Czechoslovakia section) most dedicated disciples were the Quay brothers, Stephen and Timothy, identical twins born in Philadelphia who moved to London to create a series of meticulous puppet animations steeped in the atmosphere and ironic fatalism of Eastern Europe. In their 21-minute short film Street of Crocodiles (1986), inspired by the stories of Bruno Schulz, a museum keeper spits into the eyepiece of an ancient peep-show and sets the musty machine going; inside, the puppets partake of a series of bizarre rituals amongst the dirt and the grime.

The King and the Mockingbird, directed by Paul Grimault, had a long and torrid production history. It started production in 1948, and was released in an incomplete form in 1952 by the producer against Grimault’s wishes. It took 15 years for Grimault to buy back the rights and another 13 to finish it as he meant to, releasing it again in 1980. The plot centers on a kingdom ruled by a narcissistic and delusional king, who is mercilessly mocked by a Mockingbird wearing a top hat.

French director René Laloux is best known for the mind-bending story of human-like Oms living in subjugation by giant, advanced Draags in Fantastic Planet (1973), which he made in collaboration with post-Surrealist artist Roland Topor, but after its international success he also made two other animations: The Masters of Time (1982) and Gandahar (1987). The Masters of Time (1982) was a science fiction feature co-written and designed by acclaimed artist Mœbius. Based on Stefan Wul’s 1958 novel L’Orphelin de Perdide. The film was produced largely at the Pannonia Film Studio in Hungary. A crew of space travelers lost one of their members, Claude, on planet Perdide, which is inhabited by giant hornets. However, Claude wasn’t alone, his young son Piel was with him. Piel awaits rescue by the space pilot Jaffar, the exiled prince Matton, his sister Belle and Jaffar’s old friend Silbad who are trying to reach Perdide and save Piel before it is too late. The slightly languid plot and simply-drawn human characters take a firm back seat to beautiful backgrounds, props and creatures.

Gwen, and the Book of Sand (1985), directed by Jean-Francois Laguionie. Sometime “After the gods have left…” what remains is a desert landscape in which a few animals and nomads make their home; the only danger being the Makou, something that drops objects of various sizes onto the desert floor, forcing the nomads to live underground. Gwen, an orphan, falls in love with a strange boy, Nokmoon, who is taken away one night by the Makou. She and Roseline (a 173 year old woman) set off on a journey to retrieve him; in doing so, they encounter a mysterious cult. For a desert post-apocalypse, Gwen is leisurely paced and more interested in atmosphere than lore. Although there are what could be referred to as “antagonists,” there’s no outright villain to defeat. The music of Pierre Alrand, a longtime collaborator of Laguione’s, adds to the moody atmosphere. A restored version of the film was released on 2025. Other works directed by Laguionie: Rowing Across the Atlantic (1978), The Painting (2011).

Hugo the Hippo (1975, Hungary/USA), directed by William Feigenbaum and Jozsef Gemes, is a colorful, zany, and mildly-disturbing musical. The tiny kingdom of Zanzibar is beset by man-eating sharks (dressed in biker gear). To combat them, twelve hippos are imported. Upon completing the job, they are at first treated well, but then neglected, resulting in them raiding the local farmlands and being brutally exterminated. Only the titular Hugo the hippo survives, with the help of the little boy and other children. He is captured and tried, but ultimately exonerated.

Feherlofia (The Son of the White Mare) (1981), directed by Marcell Jankovics. The legend of the titular hero’s quest is presented in a strikingly colorful style, mixing styles from fauvism, to Art Nouveau, to Art Deco. Ranging from pastels to the explosion of primary colors, it will linger on your retina forever. Other works: Sisyphus (1974), Tanagram (1988), episodes of Hungarian Folk Tales (1988-1996), and Jankula (1993). After taking a brief sojourn to work in the art department of The Emperor’s New Groove at Disney, Jankovics returned with The Tragedy of Man (2011).

Cat City (1986), directed by Bela Ternovszky, is a biting parody on the spy genre where cats and mice are given machine guns and other weapons to use on each other. A mouse super-agent travels to Tokyo to obtain information on an invention that can potentially turn the tide of war, and is pursued by the cat armed forces and a quartet of hired rat-goons. Meanwhile, his decoy is lost in the jungle, but befriends a tribe of very musically inclined vampire bats. All leading to the final showdown. Other works: Modern Sports Coaching (1970), Let Us Keep a Dog (1975).

Allegro Non Troppo (1976), directed by Bruno Bozzetto, broadly parodied Fantasia. Live action sequences are interspersed with colorful and wacky animations, each in its own style, set to the tunes of some of the best composers. Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune plays to the story of an elderly satyr attempting to hook up with lithe and perky nymphs. Dvorak’s Slavonic Dance No.7 is a satire on conformity among the tribe of cave dwellers. Ravel’s Bolero magnificently shows the evolution of life on Earth. Sibelius’s Valse triste is set to the truly heart-tugging story of a kitten wandering the ruins of a large house and remembering how it was when it teemed with life. Vivaldi’s Concerto No. 2 shows a dilemma of a little bee that tries to have a breakfast, but is interrupted each time by an amorous couple frolicking in the meadow. Finally, Stravinsky’s The Firebird is set to the story of creation and original sin-with a twist (the serpent just gives up when he gets the knowledge). Finally, the whole endeavor literally disintegrates. Other works: West and Soda (1965), a parody of Western; Life in a Tin (1967); and the Oscar-nominated Grasshoppers (1990).

“Anime” as we know it today (as opposed to the earlier animations created in Japan, which drew their influences from western “rubber-hose” animation and traditional Japanese art) can be traced back to the early 1960s, when Osamu Tezuka founded Mushi Productions studio. When the second broadcast anime television series (after 1962’s Otogi Manga Calendar), Mighty Atom, was aired in 1963, the studio took off. The show was the first anime series to feature regular characters in recurringly themed plot and was later syndicated and adapted for American television in 1964 under the name of Astro Boy. Following Mighty Atom AKA Astro Boy, Mushi Productions released many more shows and films, including Tetsujin 28-go (Gigantor), Jungle Emperor (Kimba the White Lion), Mach Go Go Go (Speed Racer) and many more.

Another influential studio was Tokyo Movie Shinsha, or TMS, which was established in 1964. From that date to the middle of the 80s, this was one of Japanese animation’s most important studios, which produced works by some of the most famous artists in the industry like Hayao Miyazaki, Osamu Dezaki and Katsuhiro Otomo.

Director Isao Takahata became well known in this time for his willingness to break with the newfound conventions of the genre in The Great Adventure of Horus, Prince of the Sun (太陽の王子 ホルスの大冒険) (1968). Horus marked the beginning of a partnership between Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki that would last for the next 50 years across numerous animation studios.

The 1970s saw a massive increase in anime due to the growth of the television market, the affordability of the technology, and a larger audience base. Toei, which was still largely focused on film animation, was forced to scale back productions and size, and Mushi Productions went bankrupt. However, new studios rose from the shrinking of these two, including Sunrise and Madhouse.

New animators were given the chance to direct and new talent meant many new, experimental shows such as 1970’s Tomorrow’s Joe, which focused on boxing.

In the late ‘60s, an artist named Yasuo Otsuka had been Miyazaki’s mentor at Toei. He’d been with the team since the ’50s, but he was scouted by Yutaka Fujioka of TMS to work on an adaptation of Monkey Punch’s edgy Lupin III manga. Otsuka landed himself at A Production, Tokyo Movie’s partner studio, where a pilot film for Lupin the Third was taking shape. The source material was meant for adults, and so was the pilot, which turned off production studios. Over a year later, in 1971, the Lupin III project was reborn for television. Adult animation on TV was a gamble. But Yomiuri TV, headquartered in Osaka, signed off on the proposal and backed the show. Masaaki Osumi, originally from the world of puppet theater, was the director, with Otsuka overseeing the animation and design. One of the things that set the show apart was that guns and cars were recognizable as having specific makes and models.

For reasons unknown, the broadcaster made a mistake the series aired earlier in the evening than it should have, in a child-friendly time slot. It bombed, it flopped, it tanked, it failed. The ratings were dismal. Yomiuri TV decided to blame the animation studio: after a few episodes, Fujioka and Osumi were told to redo Lupin III to be for kids. After a bad meeting in Osaka with Yomiuri TV, Osumi quit.

The show hadn’t even been airing for two months, but it was now leaderless with many episodes in production and deadlines looming. Enter Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki. They required their names to be omitted (the credit went to the “A Production Directing Group”). From episode five, their changes began to appear in fits and starts. The most obvious change was perhaps Lupin’s car, which changed from a Mercedes-Benz SSK, to a yellow Fiat 500 (modeled after the one Otsuka owned) and has remained so throughout the franchise ever since. The tight deadlines meant that some episodes weren’t edited by Takahata and Miyazaki at all, though, which meant the tone shifted from episode to episode. It failed to get good ratings and ended in 1972. But the low ratings meant that the broadcasting fee was cheap, so reruns aired when stations needed filler, and it found its audience.

Lupin III (1971-1972) is often referred as “Part I” (or “green jacket” after Lupin’s attire), Lupin III (1977-1980) as “Part II” or “red jacket” (though there are many, many movies and specials where Lupin wears a red jacket, as that became his most iconic look), Lupin III (1984-1985) as “Part III” or “pink jacket.” There have been four more anime series, 12 theatrical-release animated movies, 27 television specials, live-action adaptations (including a spin-off TV show), stage musicals, videogames, LPs and CDs of all the series’ soundtracks… I love this huge franchise and made anime journal spreads for each of the five main characters (Lupin, Jigen, Goemon, Fujiko, and Inspector Zenigata) back in 2020.

Takahata and Miyazaki went on to work on Heidi, Girl of the Alps (1974), a drama for young children based on the 1880 Swiss novel Heidi’s Years of Wandering and Learning by Johanna Spyri. In summer of 1973, Director Isao Takahata, Hayao Miyazaki and new character designer (and animation director) Yōichi Kotabe took a trip to Mainfeld, Switzerland (and parts of Germany) so that they could carefully study the locations for the series. The results of their research were used as a reference in the design of the settings and backgrounds, and in the characters designs.

Heidi drew a large audience and became a huge international phenomenon. To give you an idea about how beloved it is: in 2010, August 12th was declared “Heidi’s Day” in Hiroshima. Most Venezuelan people my age or older recall the opening lyrics of the show. In an interview, Kotabe recalled how surprised he had been in the 1970s to see “no visible traces of Heidi” in Maienfeld, but now it has a Heidi museum, a special hiking trail and souvenir shops of Heidi merchandize.

This huge success led to Takahata collaborating with Hayao Miyazaki on World Masterpiece Theater (a Japanese television timeslot that showcased an animated version of a different classical book or story each year) with the similarly themed productions 3000 Leagues in Search of Mother (母をたずねて三千里) and Anne of Green Gables. Side-note: 3000 Leagues in Search of Mother is known in Spanish as Marco, de los Apeninos a los Andes and my parents’ generation had the expression “Más perdido que la mamá de Marco” to refer to someone being lost (either literally or, more often, in the sense of being confused). Later, the two left the studio and produced their own works including Miyazaki’s Future Boy Conan (1978) and Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro (1979) (Which is a good movie, but not a good Lupin III movie, in my humble opinion).

Candy Candy first appeared as a manga in 1975, written by Keiko Nagita under the pen name Kyoko Mizuki, and illustrated by manga artist Yumiko Igarashi, a collaboration which was put together by the Japanese magazine Nakayoshi who were interested manga in the same vein as Heidi, Anne of Green Gables and other famous classic titles of literature read predominantly by young girls. Candy Candy was adapted into an anime series by Toei Animation in 1976, and was a huge hit internationally. Especially in Latin America, where reruns aired until ’98, when legal disputes between Mizuki and Igarashi and Toei over the ownership led to the show becoming no longer legal to broadcast anywhere. (Given the lack of legal representation for them in LatAm, though, some countries kept airing reruns of the show through the 2000s.) The story’s telenovela-like qualities (romantic drama about an impoverished but plucky orphan protagonist) might have played a part in that.

Also developing in the 1970s was the mecha (giant robot) genre of anime. Its roots went back to Astro Boy and Gigantor in the 1960s but it did not truly find traction until the slew of realistic super robot space operas were aired in the 1970s. Examples include Mazinger Z, Gatchaman, Space Battleship Yamato, and Mobile Suit Gundam. Following Star Wars and its international success, space operas became even more popular with Space Battleship Yamato receiving a revival in the form of a theatrical release and the two year run of Mobile Suit Gundam drawing huge TV audiences.

Here’s a though question: is Transformers (1984) an anime? If you asked a Japanese person, she or he would probably say “yes,” if only because in Japan anime is what they call all animation—to them, any cartoon is an anime. But the term has different connotations in the rest of the world: about whether it was made in Japan for a Japanese audience first and foremost, and sometimes there are additional arguments about the art style or about certain visual and storytelling tropes. Here are the facts: the toy manufacturing brand Hasbro imported “Diaclone” toys from Japan, renamed them “Transformers,” and commissioned Marvel Comics to come up with character profiles for each toy. The 1984 Transformers G1 animated show was animated in Japan by Toei, but it was produced in the United States to sell a toy line that didn’t yet exist as such in Japan. It was voiced in English first, and it was understood that it was meant for an U.S. audience. Whatever your personal feelings on whether that’s “anime” enough, the Transformers franchise produced a lot of spin-offs in Japan that do fit the “animated for a Japanese audience” criteria.

The development of an anime fanbase and subculture developed in the 1980s, often (though not exclusively) known as otaku. This allowed other new companies to get a foothold, including Daicon Films, a company that was into the mid-1980s producing films for the Daicon Sci-Fi conventions in Japan. Later renaming themselves Gainax, their popularity eventually landed them with a massive budget and the chance to create Royal Space Force: The Wings of Honneamise (1987).

Another major starting point in the 1980s was the release of Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984), a film created by Hayao Miyazaki with help from Isao Takahata in an experimental, risky move. The film was incredibly successful though and later led to Miyazaki and Takahata opening Studio Ghibli and following up with Laputa: Castle in the Sky in 1986.

Further experimental films were released in the late 1980s as well, following Miyazaki’s major successes. Work such as Oshii’s Angel’s Egg (1985) jumpstarted a movement. Major literary successes were soon translated to anime as well with Tale of Genji (1986) and Grave of the Fireflies (1987). The decade was capped with major productions with record setting budgets for films like Honneamise and Akira (1988). Ironically, these films were not able to recuperate their cost in Japan and many anime studios that had been spending too much money or experimenting liberally soon shut down. Studio Ghibli was the lone exception with Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) making $40 million at the box office (the top film of the year in Japan).

However, despite Akira’s box office flop in Japan, it was the root of a massive expansion of anime popularity overseas and soon became the symbol of anime in other countries. The mangaka and film director, Katsuhiro Otomo, borrowed a lot from what was popular in contemporary and classic western sci-fi cinema at the time. Set in a cyberpunk dystopia, Akira was about Kaneda, a teenage biker gang leader, and his friend Tetsuo, whose accidental exposure to a secret government experiment unleashed destructive psychic powers. So, chances are that if you’ve ever seen an animated character skidding to the side on a motorcycle, it was likely paying homage to Kaneda’s red motorcycle skidding to a halt against the neon-lit backdrop of Neo-Tokyo.

Television series continued to flourish with shows like Dragonball running during the mid-1980s (followed by Dragonball Z’s initial run in 1989-1993) and a lot of other major hits developing.

In the 1950s, animators like Ernesto Terrazas, Rodolfo Zamora, and Ernesto López worked at a company started by R. K. Thompkins, though later they moved to Gamma Producciones. Television provided work for new companies like the Canto brothers’ Producciones Kinema, Harvey Siegel’s Caleidoscopio, and the companies founded by Daniel Burgos and Dan McManus. Important animators in the 1970s and 1980s include Enrique Escalona (Tlacuilo) and Fernando Ruiz, who made Los tres reyes magos (1976), the first animated Mexican feature length film.

African animation traces its roots back to the mid-20th century when pioneering animators like Nigerian artist Moustapha Alassane began experimenting with traditional animation techniques. His passion for film drove him to enroll at the Institut de Formation Artistique de Niamey (IFAN), where he crossed paths with renowned French filmmaker Jean Rouch. Rouch recognised Alassane’s talent and took him under his wing and facilitated his studies in Canada with the acclaimed animator Norman McLaren. Upon his return to Africa, Alassane was determined to make a lasting impact on the animation landscape. Alassane’s 1966 film La Mort de Gandji is considered one of the first animated films from Africa, showcasing the continent’s potential in the animation world.

Sorpresas Limeñas (circa 1952-1957, the exact year is unknown due to it being lost media), directed by Rafael Seminario, might be the first animated short created in Peru. Later on, in the 70s and 80s, Peru’s animation scene flourished under the influence of animators such as Felix Nakamura, who taught many animators in Peru and Venezuela, and Uruguayan animator Walter Tournier, who resided in Lima for a long time and contributed to the diversification of animation techniques.

Włodzimierz Haupe and Halina Bielinska were among the first important Polish animators; their Janosik (1954) was Poland’s first animated film, and their Changing of the Guard (1956) employed the stop-action gimmick of animated matchboxes. The collaborative efforts of Jan Lenica and Walerian Borowczyk foresaw the bleak themes and absurdist trends of the Polish school of the 1960s; such films as Był sobie raz… (1957; Once Upon a Time…), Nagrodzone uczucie (1957; Love Rewarded), and Dom (1958; The House) are surreal, pessimistic, plotless, and characterized by a barrage of disturbing images. Borowczyk and Lenica, each of whom went on to a successful solo career, helped launch an industry that produced as many as 120 animated films per year by the early ’60s. Animators such as Miroslaw Kijowicz, Daniel Szczechura, and Stefan Schabenbeck were among the leaders in Polish animation during the second half of the 20th century.

In Puerto Rico, the main figure is the artist Poli Marichal. His work (Underwater Blues, 1981; or Guernica, 1982), defined by experimentation with different techniques, focuses, on the one hand, on social and political issues; and on the other hand, in introspection and human emotions.

In Uruguay, the most outstanding professional was the animator Walter Tournier. In 1973, the Uruguayan author approached the world of animation using very limited resources. His animations generally make use of stop motion, although he has also used puppets and the cut-out technique. His short films include El cóndor y el zorro (1979).

Ivan Ivanov-Vano started working as an animator at the State Film Technicum. Together with his fellow students he created some of the first Soviet animated films using home-made tools. Their works were distinguished by cutout animation and unique art style influenced by constructivism.

In 1927, Ivanov turned to traditional animation with one of the boldest experiments The Skating Rink directed by Yuri Zhelyabuzhsky. In 1939, Ivanov organized animation courses at VGIK where he became one of the leading educators, also that year he directed Moydodyr based on the fairy tale of the same name which became a big step from the Disney stylistics towards more traditional Russian art that predominated during later years.

Ivanov-Vano directed a record number of Soviet feature animated films, often working as a screenwriter as well. The majority of his works were based on Russian folklore and fairy tales by classical Russian writers. Late 1940s to ’50s were, in Soviet animation, the era of rotoscope (which they called “éclair”) fairy tales, to compete with Disney.

In 1947, shortly after the end of war, Ivanov presented the first Soviet feature-length animated film The Humpbacked Horse based on the fairy tale in verse by Pyotr Pavlovich Yershov. This 19th century poem-tale of a simple lad, who undergoes trials and adventures with the aid of his flying, magical, ingenious humpbacked and long-eared horse, became a calling card of Soviet animation. By the 70s, the original negatives were badly damaged, and as restoration technologies at the time were limited, the director simply remade it.

The Snow Maiden (1952), directed by Ivan Ivanov-Vano and Aleksandra Snezhno-Blotskaya, was a loose adaptation of Rimsky-Korsakov’s opera bout the daughter of Frost and Spring who yearns for human warmth, with tragic results.

Some of Ivanov-Vano’s other works include The Twelve Months (1956), Lefty (1964), Seasons (1969), The Battle of Kerzhenets (1970, with Yuri Norshteyn), and Ave Maria (1972).

The Snow Queen (1957), directed by Lev Atamanov, won top prizes at Venice and Cannes. Hayao Miyazaki has admitted that it was a decisive influence on his choice of profession. The film was made towards the end of the rotoscope (“éclair”) era of Soviet Animation, and it’s an adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s tale. The story of the little boy Kay who is gets enchanted and taken by the Snow Queen, and his friend Gerda who never stops searching for him, finds him, and thaws out his hoar frosted soul with the help of several kind and magical creatures. Atamanov’s career spans almost 40 years. The ’50s were his golden period, with rotoscoped classics Yellow Stork (1950), The Scarlett Flower (1952), The Golden Antelope (1954).

Made after the “éclair” method stopped being the dominant technique in Soviet animation, Wild Swans (1962) features strikingly drawn gothic surroundings. Unusual for Soviet films of this period, and especially for animated films, it was produced in widescreen. It was an adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s tale. The story of a girl who must fight a curse both to win love and save her brothers, who were transformed into swans. The only deviation here is that in the atheistic USSR no mention could be made of Eliza’s piety (though most famous adaptations of Andersen’s works tend to tone down or remove the religious aspects). Director Mikhail Tsekhanovsky was one of the first Soviet animators. His early works are striking in graphic detail: Post (1929, remade in 1965), Pacific 231 (1931). Later he had to switch to making films for children, but they too bear his talent detail and atmosphere: Kashtanka (1952), and the Spanish-inquisition tale of The Legend of the Moor’s Testament (1959).

Adventures of Mowgli (1967-1971), directed by Roman Davydov, was made as five shorts over a four-year period, and together they form a feature. It’s not a musical, and though it has comic relief, it’s not a comedy. The story of a human child lost in the jungle and raised by the wolves is presented here as a drama. Mowgli and most of the main characters and scenery are very realistic in look. One major deviation from the source novel and the film’s look is Bagheera, who was made female. Special mention must be given to music by Sofia Gubaidullina. At the time, her mix of spiritual and avant-garde composition was out of favor in the Soviet Union, so she had to make a living creating the scores for films and cartoons.

It wasn’t all fairy tale retellings, though. Joseph Stalin died in 1953, after nearly thirty years in power. When Nikita Khrushchev took his place, he enacted policies of “de-Stalinization,” a wide-ranging series of political reforms, which led to the “Krushchev Thaw,” a period in the ’50s and ’60s when censorship was significantly relaxed. Which meant Soviet animation got to be weirder, darker, more mature, and more experimental.

Alongside the fairy tales and folklore there were also now films like Fyodor Khitruk The Story of a Crime (1962), which opens with a man killing two women with a cooking pan, or Anatoly Karanovich and Sergei Yutkevich’s trippy avant-garde puppet animation The Bath (1962), which is an unsubtle screed against Soviet bureaucracy, or Fyodor Khitruk’s Film, Film, Film (1968), a parody of the Soviet movie industry.

The Krushchev Thaw wouldn’t last, but there was so much momentum in Soviet animation by the time it ended that the creativity of the artform didn’t really slow down, even as censorship ramped up again and common story topics once again favored folklore, fairy tales, and children’s stories. That’s where we get Roman Kachanov’s stop-motion Cheburashka films, which are almost certainly still the most well-known and recognizable Soviet children’s films. Cheburashka is a cute fuzzy creature first introduced in children’s book Gena the Crocodile and His Friends (1965) by Eduard Uspensky, and first portrayed in Kachanov’s stop-motion animated film Gena the Crocodile (1969). Gena’s best friend Cheburashka became the symbol of Russian animation, gained a cult following in Japan, and was an unofficial mascot of the Sochi Winter Olympics.

That’s also when we get films like Yuri Norstein’s beloved Hedgehog in the Fog (1975), a beautiful, moody, dreamlike film about a curious little hedgehog taking a walk through the woods at dusk.

Francheska Yarbusova debuted as art director in the film A Little Locomotive from Romashkovo (1967), directed by Vladimir Degtyaryov. She did also work on other films such as A White Skin and Plasticine Hedgehog, but is primarily known for her work as the art director and artist in the films of her husband, Yuri Norstein, beginning with The Battle of Kerzhenets (1971).

The Overcoat, the infamous passion project of famed Russian animator Yuri Norstein, started production in 1981. The film, an adaptation of author Nikolai Gogol’s titular short humanistic horror story of a petty clerk who scrounges up for an overcoat, but has it stolen and descends into madness. With a protracted development time of 44 years, The Overcoat has earned itself the record of the longest production cycle in animation history (and the second longest of any film period, beaten only by Welles’s The Other Side of the Wind at 48 years).

A crucial aspect of The Overcoat’s prolonged development stems from the unique technique Norstein uses when creating his films. Rather than using a large group of animators to produce films in a reasonable timeframe, Norstein instead prefers a small team consisting of himself along with his wife Francheska Yarbusova and his close friend Aleksandr Zhukovskiy, serving as artist and cinematographer, respectively. Using a form of stop motion called cutout animation, Norstein and Zhukovskiy shoot Yarbusova’s drawings through multiple panes of glass of varying depths (roughly one every 25-30cm) which can be moved horizontally or vertically to produce different effects. Norstein has turned down outside help with the project, though he did have to find a replacement cinematographer unfortunate following the death of Zhukovskiy in 1999, with filming only resuming two years later. The addition of cinematographer Maksim Granik has been the only significant change to the film’s production team during its development.

Norstein and his team began work on the film in 1981 while they were working at Soyuzmultfilm, the dominant animation studio in the Soviet Union, but were fired four years later due to how little progress they had made. Since then Norstein has worked independently, using his own animation studio constructed in his house. Since he no longer has the backing of a major studio, funding has come from a variety of places, including (but not limited to) TNK oil company and the Soros Fund Management firm. The studio stopped working on the film for nearly a year while Norstein worked to release his two-volume book, Snow on the Grass, released on August 10, 2008. In a February 2014 interview, Norstein revealed that profits from sales of his recent books and licensing deals were going into supporting his work on a new film, but refused to confirm whether that film was The Overcoat, though iIn April 2015 Norstein said in an interview that most of his time was being spent working on The Overcoat. As of 2025, the film remains unfinished.

Maria, Mirabela (1981), directed by Ion Popescu-Gopo, is a live action/animation feature. This Soviet/Romanian co-production tells the story of two titular sisters (one more tomboyish than the other) on a mission to find the Forest Fairy and get her to help their animated friends: a frog whose feet froze into ice, a butterfly that can’t fly, and a firefly that catches on fire instead of glowing. Other works: A Brief History (1956), Seven Arts (1958), and Ecce Homo (1977).

The Mystery of the Third Planet (1981) (Russian title: Тайна третьей планеты), directed by Roman Kachanov, was an adaptation of the third book of Kir Bulychev’s series starring the plucky Alisa Seleznyova and her travels to many mysterious worlds. Bulychev wrote the script. Alisa and her zoologist father, who collect exotic animals from across the galaxy to bring back to the Moscow Zoo, travel from planet to planet on the ship of the curmudgeonly Captain Green, marveling at the animals and mysteries they find along the way and running afoul of some shady characters. Art director Natalya Orlova and the crew of animators portrayed this science fictional world with wacky and colorful whimsy, with the series of fantastic creatures and otherworldly worlds moving in quick and astonishing succession. From a friendly octopoid cyborg to flying cows with dragonfly wings, anything can happen.

Treasure Island (1988) is director by David Cherkassky’s most enduring work. It is a comedic, musical adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s book. Created by the studio Kievnauchfilm in-between 1986 and 1988, the film features mostly traditional animation with some related live action sequences of a band. The first part, Captain Flint's Map, aired in 1986; the second, Captain Flint's Treasure, aired in 1988. Subsequent airings would combine them into one program. It was released in the United States direct-to-video as The Return to Treasure Island, with the live-action sections removed, resulting in a version 34 minutes shorter than the original cut. I unironically like the songs and find them catchy, but they really were just added to pad for time due to deadline constraints and really can be removed without affecting the rest of the film.

The characters are quite different from the original novel, and each of them is preceded by a brief police dossier profile. “Cpt. Smollet. An old sailor and soldier who always tells the truth and suffers because of it. Personality: terrible. Not married.” (The “not married” was a nod to the 70s television series Seventeen Moments of Spring.) It’s wacky, absurd, cartoony humor. David Cherkassky made two more feature-series in similar style at Kievnauchfilm: The Adventures of Captain Vrungel (1976-1977) and Doctor Aybolit (1984).

Of Japanese parentage, Felix Nakamura was born in Lima, Peru in 1940. Though started his career as an animator in Argentina, he later became an important figure in the history of animation in Peru. He moved to Venezuela in the 1970s, brought by the founder of Bolivar Films. Nakamura appears in almost all the credits of animated films produced in Venezuela between 1985 and 2000.

Nakamura was a key figure in the establishment of the Centro de Dibujos Animados created by Fundación para el Desarrollo del Arte Audiovisual, Artevisión-USB, at Universidad Simón Bolívar in Caracas, Venezuela. There, he served for several years as the center's director, mentoring many young animators. In the 1990s, he developed the curriculum for the animation program at Universidad de los Andes in Venezuela. He taught numerous animation courses for beginners in Venezuela and other countries in the Caribbean and Central America.

Some of his works include designs used in Caracas’ Museo de los Niños, the educational shorts “Magic Window,” the commercial for Limpiador de Pocetas Más (which aired for over 25 years), and Dulce Ilusión (1993), the first (and only) Venezuelan telenovela to use animated characters alongside real people. The protagonist, Dulce María (played by Coraima Torres), was a daydreamer and had imaginary cartoon animal friends she confided in: Homero, the lizard; Prometeo, the toucan; and Alicia, the canary.

José Enrique “Castillito” Castillo, was known for directly working on the celluloid. He was basically an indie animator, working from his apartment without much equipment and little in the way of budget. His first short film was Conejín (1975), about a rabbit that daydreams of flying with the help of a kite.