Seven Minutes is a social and aesthetic history of the “controlled anarchy” of the cartoon, from the first talking Mickeys to the demise of Warners and MGM theatrical productions in 1960. Norman M. Klein follows the scrambling graphics and upside-down ballet of Fleischer’s Betty Boop, Popeye, Superman of the Wolfie cartoons by Tex Avery, of the Bugs and Daffy, Tweetie and Roadrunner cartoons from Warners, of full animation at Disney, of the “whiteness of Snow White”, and of how Mickey Mouse became a logo. Reviewing the graphics, scripts and marketing of each era, he discovers the links between cartoons and live action movies, newspapers, popular illustration, and the entertainment architecture coming out of Disneyland. Klein shows that the cartoon was a perverse juggling act, invaded constantly by economic and political pressures, by marketing for sound, by licensing characters to stave off bankruptcies, by Prohibition, the Great Depression, World War II and the first wave of television.
Poetic, prosaic, and critical, a book that grasps the cultural and ideological implications of cartoons as a changing art form and displays this awareness with artistic panache. More references to philosophers and class politics than one expects in a book about cartoons, thank God, and with an impressive knowledge of art theory that one hopes to find in a book on the subject matter.
Een maatschappelijke en culturele studie naar de Amerikaanse animated cartoon, die deze in een lange traditie van vaudeville en illustratie plaatst en laat zien hoe deze zich via cinematografisch melodrama (jaren dertig) ontwikkeld tot de typische 'chase cartoon' (jaren veertig) en tot de 'consumer space' van de gestileerde cartoon (jaren vijftig), elke fase met een belangrijke typische exponent (respectievelijk Fleischer, Disney, Warner Brothers en UPA).
Ondanks zijn wetenschappelijke achtergrond is Kleins betoog bijzonder warrig: hij kan van de hak op de tak springen, stream-of-consciousness-achtige associaties aan elkaar breien en behoorlijk in herhaling vallen. Bovendien gaat hij ervanuit dat je veel al weet. Als Tex Avery, Oskar Fischinger, Norman McLaren je niks zeggen, laat dit boek dan maar zitten. Hetzelfde geldt ook voor Sergei Eisenstein, Gustave Doré, Samuel Beckett enz.
Klein is soms onnodig erudiet en zaait alleen maar verwarring door er van alles bij te halen. Het best is hij in het duiden van de cultuurveranderingen binnen de animated cartoon van 1928 tot 1958 en hoe die in relatie staan tot de rest van de cultuur van Amerika. Helaas moet je hiervoor soms door veel ruis heen lezen.
Restricted a bit by the subject matter and wrestled into an ultimately unsatisfying structure - Klein, an urbanist at heart, is most interested in the way changes in cartoon space and pacing reflect and inform changes in urban design, architecture, social life and mass culture, but seems to have been hired to write a pop culture book specifically surveying American studio short-form animation from approximately 1930 to 1960; this is packed to the gills with wit and strange digressions about the sociopolitical dimensions of animation technology as it informs urban or suburban life, but these threads are often cut short or turned away from in order to discuss more Tex Avery cartoons. Klein is a very sharp critic of Avery cartoons, and I certainly enjoyed reading his thoughts on Avery cartoons (I recently saw him lecture, and he screened + discussed King Size Canary - delightful), but it clearly comes at the cost of further digging into the imagineering of reality by way of "special effects" that his other work has shown to be his primary project - aiming for screwball media theory but tuned towards the whims of the mass market: how else could this book ever be? At the end of the day, the thrill of reading a paperback survey of cartoon culture that repeatedly uses the word "architectonic" (finally defining its use in the last few pages) and cites Italo Calvino and Walter Benjamin just as often as Walt Disney is no small one, and I am happy to read Klein's other books for the weirder + woolier stuff that hovers on the fringes here.
Only read this book if you're working on a master's in art direction. Pretty much devoted to layout, subject matter, and changes to the actual media, starting in the 1920's, and changes that had to be made due to the Hayes act.
Very little mention of history. Hanna Barbara rated only one page. Disney got more coverage, due to the animator's strike. Brief mentions of the other studios.