One could draw a direct line from Rejected—with these unstable animated characters as byproducts of creative stagnation in the commercial world, perhaps indicating a deeper loss of individuality therein—to what Paper Trail is suggesting about the sacrifice of self to soul-crushing corporate conditions.
That certainly wasn’t conscious, but I don’t disagree. It’s all coming from the same person. It all shares the same blood. This reminds me of when somebody sees It’s Such a Beautiful Day, Paper Trail or even Rejected, and their takeaways are, “That was so depressing; that was crushing. I was really sad.” To me, it’s like, “You’re almost there. Now, just go one step further.” Bill as a character in It’s Such a Beautiful Day—or Steven as a character in Paper Trail, or fictional Don in Rejected—these are tragic stories, but they’re fictional stories. That’s what storytelling is. You’re a real person. You can do something else.
Maybe It’s Such a Beautiful Day is a story about somebody who discovers life and starts living it right when it’s too late—but it’s not real. And maybe it’s a cautionary tale. There’s inspiration to be found in sad things. Certainly, most of my favorite things in music, literature and movies are very sad stories—because they feed your soul. Those are critical to my being. I feel like, “Oh, that was sad,” it’s like, “You’ve engaged with it, but let’s sit a little longer and think about why you found it sad,” right? [Laughs]
This brings us to minimalism, which feels essential to why audiences relate to your work so profoundly. There’s such expressivity in abstraction, be it stick figures or signatures. Was it ever a conscious choice to pursue that style?
There were very few conscious decisions made along the way. You instinct your way into so many things. Going back to It’s Such a Beautiful Day, that is a heavy film. If it didn’t have minimalism, it’d be intolerable. If you imagine that movie as this beautifully rendered 3D animation, you’d be shoved out of the screen. You’ve got to give the audience some space. Generally, when you have a visually rich experience, the story needs to become simpler, or the soundtrack needs to become simpler, or the audience is going to be exhausted within fifteen minutes. So much of what I do, because I’m working alone through any project, is that I wind my way through the maze, make mistakes or discoveries, hit a wall and turn that way, rather than have it all conjured up on day one.