Animism, Nostalgia, and the Sublime in
Animated Feature Films: An Ecocritical
Reading of FernGully and WALL-E
Student: Anaïs Oetelmans Student id: 6091946
Supervisor: dr. Catherine Lord
Second Reader: dr. Gerwin van der Pol
Program: Film Studies
Course: MA Thesis Film Studies Institution: University of Amsterdam 27-06-2014
Abstract
In the upcoming field of cinema studies and ecology, this thesis takes a specific look on two animated feature films (WALL-E and FernGully: The Last Rainforest), and examines the way these films deal with environmental issues and simultaneously attempts to raise critical, environmental awareness towards the natural world. Previous research on animation and ecology has mainly focused either on the historical development of animated film and environmental issues; proving its effectiveness as a medium for stimulating debate on complex issues, or demonstrating humans’ relationship with the natural world and what ideologies these films or cartoons (for television) criticize or encourage. Ursula Heise is the first scholar to examine how some of the aesthetic strategies that are distinctive for
animation engages with nature. By looking closer to animation’s characteristics, this thesis continues on the work of Heise. But instead of mainly looking at the use of plasmaticness, as Heise does, my goal is to examine how nostalgia, the sublime, and most of all, animism are related to nature and the environmental crisis more specifically. It is remarkable that little to no attention has been paid to the interrelatedness of animation and animism; the first an act of setting motion and life to lifeless matters, the latter, the belief that also the nonliving have a spirit, a soul, or a consciousness. This belief is closely related to some of deep ecology’s fundamental assertions.
Keywords
CONTENTS
P.
INTRODUCTION 3
The properties of animation 4
Ecology and ecocriticism 6
Animation and ecology 9
FERNGULLY AND ENVIRONMENTAL INTERACTION:
PRESERVING THE NATURAL WORLD 14
Tracing the wilderness and locating the sublime 14
Forces of destruction and the sublime 18
Environmental interaction and the magic forces of creation 21
WALL-E: FROM POST-APOCALYTPIC DYSTOPIA TO A NOSTALGIC UTOPIA 23
The apocalyptic narrative and its revelation 23 The power of technology:
how the animate become inanimate and the animated animate 25 Excessive consumption and the deterioration of human awareness 27 Down to earth: the fulfillment of a nostalgic utopia 30
CONCLUSION 34
INTRODUCTION
The peculiar fascination of the genre lies in its refusal to treat either natural or human-made environments as mere inert materials and in its insistence that these environments are alive and populated by all manner of nonhuman agents. (Heise 2014: p. 303)
By taking a closer look at animation’s distinctive qualities as a cinematic style, animation film can critically address environmental concerns. While several studies have already proven otherwise, animation film is often condemned as a children’s medium; incapable of delivering a critical stance on complex discussions on politics, ideologies, societal affairs and ecological concerns. Therefore, it often has not been taken into serious consideration as a way of producing critical environmental awareness (Starosielski 2001: p. 148). In her essay ‘Movements That Are Drawn’: A History of Environmental Animation from The Lorax, to FernGully to Avatar (2011), Nicole Starosielski addresses some of the arguments that have been made against environmental animation. A first one being that it “over-simplifies” complex issues and leaves an abstract depiction of environmental conflicts. Furthermore, as Starosielski illustrates, this distorted representation has the potential to damage “a pre-existing reality” (2011: p. 149). Therefore, the indexical media is naturalized “as the most appropriate mode of representation and reinforces a conception of the environment as objective entity to be captured, rather than subjectively imagined.” (Starosielski 2011: p. 149). I shall suggest, however, that it is exactly this ‘subjectively imagined environment’ that proves to be able to deliver substantiated criticism on ecological and environmental issues.
According to Ursula Heise, a key figure in contemporary environmental culture, literature and art: “up until the past ten years”, “environmental critics had paid little attention to animated film.” (2014: p. 302). Writers duo Robin L. Murray and Joseph K. Heumann are one of the iconic writers on ecology and cinema and have extended their research to animation film as well. That’s All Folks? Ecocritical Readings of American Animated Features (2011) focuses on what they call enviro-toons1; “animated shorts or feature films that address environmental concerns” (p. 2). Enviro-toons reflect on, and critique “beliefs about technology, consumerism, and the natural” (p. 11). Contrary to what is often believed, Murray and Heumann argue that the history of representing environmental concerns in American animation films reaches much further back than the emergence of the environmental movement in the 60s. Going back in history Murray and Heumann offer new insights to animated cinema and the environmental representations at issue. Starosielski’s essay mentioned above also
1 Following the definition given by Lindvall and Melton in Raz Greenberg’s The Animated Text: Definition
(2011), I reject the term ‘enviro-toons’ as it only refers to comic animation, in other words; cartoons. Therefore I belief the term ‘enviro-toons’ is chosen incorrectly by Murray and Heumann since they also address non-comic animation films.
proves to be a useful and comprehensible text to gain a better understanding of the history of
animation and environmental representations. Furthermore, she addresses the ways in which animation endeavors to take a critical, though self-reflexive stance on ecological concerns, and attempts to raise awareness on environmental issues.
However, Heise, points outs that many of these critical studies on animation and environmental issues focus on “how animated films mobilize particular cultural templates in
portraying nature, how they define humans’ relationship with nonhumans, to what extent they engage with ecological crisis, and what sociopolitical ideologies they criticize or encourage” (2014: p. 303). While such studies have proven to give valuable insights, they do not consider the aesthetic strategies animation films employ to deliver such ecological criticism (Heise 2014: p. 303). She further argues that animation “should be understood as the principal aesthetic genre that engages with the reification of nature and its possible alternatives in modern society.” (p. 303). Heise understands the presence of nonhuman actors (or bodies) and the quality of plasmaticness as some of the key aesthetic
characteristics of animation film. Starosielski proposes a different take on how animation film find its ways to triggers our environmental awareness. She distinguishes “three ways in which animation’s experimental and imaginative views can challenge our environmental imagination.” (2011: p. 151). These are the practice of ‘environmental mutability’, which is closely related to the concept of plasmaticness which Heise refers to in her work (2014), ‘environmental interaction’, and considering the ‘environment as construct’ (2011: pp. 150-151). Finally, according to Murray and Heumann, enviro-toons reveal three narrative and aesthetic patterns in their approach to ecological concerns. These are: “the power of nature over the human world, the need for controlling human intervention and nurturing the natural world in order to strengthen their interdependence, and criticism of human exploitation of the natural world.” (2011: p.5). Following the work of these writers, I shall propose my own view on how animation film can not only trigger environmental awareness, but also deliver criticism on current affairs. Before touching upon animation and environmental issues I find it necessary to explain both terms in depth.
The properties of animation
With the rise of CGI (computer-generated imagery) in live-action films it is becoming much more of a challenge to define animation. In fact, as Raz Greenberg rightly illustrates in ‘The Animated Text: A Definition’ (2011), there are several misconceptions on the definition of animation. The first
misconception is that animation is a genre within film. However, a genre is best defined as a set of form, content and style conventions within artistic texts and practices, such as literature, theatre and cinema. One cause for this misconception, as Greenberg points out, is that animation is often confused with the term ‘cartoon’. Defined by Terrance Lindvall and Matthew Melton as comic animation, “cartoon” is indeed a genre (qtd. in Greenberg 2011: p. 4). Indeed not all animated films are comic. Films like Persepolis (2007), Waltz with Bashir (2008) and even WALL-E are not defined as comic
films. To iconic authors of animation film like Ralph Stephenson and Paul Wells, animation is defined as “a film made by hand, frame by frame, providing an illusion of movement which has not been directly recorded in the conventional photographic sense” (qtd. in Greenberg 2011: p. 4). However, this definition seems more related to analogue and hand-painted animation than to digital or computer animation. Therefore, the distinction between animation and live-action films still remains unclear as techniques like CGI are deployed in live-action films and can thus be considered ‘animation’. The best way to define animated films and distinguish them from live-action films is not “by their contents or style (as in genre), or the way in which they are consumed by the audience (as in medium), or even the method in which they are made (or coded)” but “it is in their basic meaning, their ability to convey concepts, rather than objects.” (Greenberg 2011: p. 5). Indeed, this is also the position I will take in throughout this thesis. Animation film do not wish to resemble or mimic reality, but instead create a reality of its own. The desolated earth presented in WALL-E does not claim that this is the future that awaits us, but instead is a possible and plausible future. Animated films do not seek to replicate reality but instead attempt to create a reality which can contort representations of space and time and “bring us into imperceptible worlds, including terrains outside of human perception or beyond the camera’s reach” (Starosielski 2011: p. 150). Therefore I would suggest that a key characteristic of animation is to achieve credibility instead of realism. By creating its own realities animation can go beyond the physical reality in which we live. The real possibilities of animation then, lies within the ability “to question and challenge the received knowledges which govern the physical laws and normative socio cultural orthodoxies of the ‘real world’” (Wells 2002: p. 5). In this sense, however, a film like Avatar (2009) can still be considered an animation film, but I would consider films like Avatar as films that merely make use of the current technical advancements of computer animation. In the first place it remains a live-action film as it contains real-life actors and objects present in the physical world. To clarify:
In the animated text, the non-specific represented object (such as “person” or “setting”) is always absent in the process of representation – the creation of the text does not involve the presence of a “person” or “setting” of the kind that is involved in the creation of the live-action film. (Greenberg 2011: p. 6)
As Greenberg further points out “the spectator never watches the represented object in its physical form” (p. 6). This leads to another key characteristic of animated film. Rather than being reflective or a replication of reality the animated film is always imaginative and interpretative. The animator has total control over its creation and can make objects – both human and non-human – appear in any form or style he likes. Furthermore, as Ursula Heise (2014) points out, animated films hold the capability of “plasmaticness”, a term coined by Sergei Eisenstein which means that animated bodies, objects and settings hold the “ability to expand, contract, stretch, bulge, flatten, implode, explode, fragment, and yet return to their original shapes.” (Heise 2014: p. 304). It are the above mentioned practices and
aesthetic conventions that define animation film. Animation is capable to present a metaphysical reality in which objects are brought to life that might not be considered as ‘alive’ (Greenberg 2011: p. 5). This stands in relation with the idea of animism. As already mentioned, animation primarily works through the practice of creating interpretative and imagined worlds and making these believable for the audience. Moreover, I suggest that the use of animism is one of the main features of animation, and that it is used a tool that allows them to distinguish themselves from live-action films. In fact, ‘animation’ and ‘animism’ already show a resemblance in their definitions. To animate, is to give life to something or set something in motion, while animism, means to attribute life to the nonliving, or give it a consciousness or a soul. This is exactly what animators do; they have to give life to every little aspect in the narrative, everything they do is a conscious decision. More often than not, animated films imagine realities in which every ‘body’ – be that humans, animals, plants, stones or any other object – is indeed very much alive. Anthropomorphism – the act of attributing human characteristics to the nonhuman – then, seems like the only logical way to make audiences relate to the nonhuman characters in animation films and simultaneously make them aware that indeed, as deep ecologists argue, all species and organisms have the right to flourish (and be considered alive!). In this sense, animation, animism, and anthropomorphism all become interrelated matters, referring to, and reflecting upon each other.
Ecology and ecocriticism
In order to provide an ecocritical reading to my case studies I must first explain what ecology is and also how it differs from environmentalism, then I will address the theory of ecocriticism. Ecology and environmentalism are closely related as they are both concerned with nature and therefore are often used and thought of as the same thing. Due to our environmental crisis, they are often mixed up and used in similar fashions. However, ecology is a scientific discipline whereas environmentalism is a social and political movement. Deriving from the Greek word oikos (home or household) and logos (study) ecology is the study of species – humans, animals, plants and organisms – and their relations with each other and their environments or habitats. The basic premise of ecology, as Evernden points out, is inter-relatedness (1978: p. 16). The study of ecology gained popularity and was integrated in the general vocabulary when in the late 1960s and early 70s the first pictures of earth as a whole were taken from space. By this time, however, ecology was still primarily considered as a subfield of biology (Odum and Barrett 2005: pp. 3-4). When in the 70s the press broadly started to cover
environmental concerns and politics got a hold on it, environmental issues gained more awareness and ecology started to make its move into the humanities. This is also when environmentalism comes into play. Environmentalism is a movement based on an ideology to save and preserve the environment. Environmentalism, therefore, is concerned both with how we affect nature and simultaneously how we are affected by nature. Environmentalists seek to reduce the harmful effects on nature that are caused by human interaction.
To address further on the study of ecology and to get a better understanding of ecocriticism I find it necessary to elaborate a bit more on the concept of deep ecology, an environmental and ecological philosophy. The term was first coined in 1973 by Norwegian philosopher Arne Naess and opposed it to what he calls ‘shallow ecology’, which takes a rather utilitarian and anthropocentric stance on ecology. According Naess shallow ecology fights “against pollution and resource depletion” to benefit “the health and affluence of people in the developed countries.” (1973: p. 95). Conversely, the first premise Arne Naess and George Sessions attribute to deep ecology is that “the well-being and flourishing of human and nonhuman Life on Earth have value in themselves (synonyms: intrinsic value, inherent value). These values are independent of the usefulness of the non-human world for human purposes.” (Naess and Sessions 1984: p.3). In total they have attributed seven more principles to which deep ecologists, should adhere to. Some of these are rather significant. For example Naess and Sessions argue that the interference of humans with the natural world is becoming excessive and the effects of it are harmful. Therefore in order for nonhuman life to flourish, human population should decrease. As a result policies must change and we should learn to appreciate life quality instead of aiming for a higher standard of living (Naess and Sessions 1984: pp. 3-6). Both WALL-E and FernGully step away from the anthropocentric stance of ‘shallow ecology’ and instead argue that all species have the right to flourish. FernGully does this by positioning humans as ‘the Other’, while WALL-E constantly delivers criticism upon humans’ behaviors towards the natural world. These principles of deep ecology are, however, not fixed statements but mainly serve as guidelines to hold on to, and starting points for discussion. Nevertheless, deep ecology takes on a holistic and egalitarian view, one where all species have equal rights to flourish and no species is more important than the other. Especially when it comes to humans we should take on the belief that nature does not exist to serve humans. Humans, among all other species have an equal share in nature in which they are all interrelated and all species and organisms in the ecosystem function as a whole.
So what then is ecocriticism? Ecocriticism originally emerged as a discourse in the humanities and more specifically in literary studies. Ecocriticism, just like the environmental movement, gained popularity due to the awareness that was raised on pollution, over population, human destruction of the natural world and other environmental issues that were made explicit in politics and the press. The Ecocriticism Reader. Landmarks in Literay Ecology (1996) an essay bundle by Cheryll Glotfelty and Harold Fromm is one of the first mayor and iconic works on ecocriticism. In the introduction of the book Glotfelty explains what ecocriticism is. Emerging from literary studies ecocriticism “takes an earth-centered approach to literary studies” (1996: p. xviii) and studies the relation between literature and the environment, or between literature and nature. Of course, ecocriticism is not only bound to literary studies but can also be applied in other disciplines such as history, philosophy, sociology, and film and television studies. Ecocritics are interested in the way nature is presented in a text and as Glotfelty mentions ask questions like “[…] What role does the physical setting play in the plot of this novel? […] How do our metaphors of the land influence the way we treat it? […] In addition to race,
class, and gender, should place become a new critical category? […] How has the concept of wilderness changed over time? (1996: p. xix). Furthermore ecocriticism is also concerned with questions how human culture constructs and is constructed by the natural world. Following Glotfelty, “ecocriticism takes as its subject the interconnections between nature and culture” and “as a theoretical discourse, it negotiates between the human and the nonhuman.” (1996: p. xix). However if
ecocriticism is concerned with human perceptions on nature, the dichotomy between culture and nature endures. As Murray and Heumann assert (2009) “nature, within this framework, is defined in contrast to culture and humanity, with nature taking the inferior seat in this dualism.” (p. 74). Moreover, as Howarth contends “if its political agenda insists on an Us-Them dichotomy, then ecocriticism cannot be self-scrutinizing, only adversarial.” (1996: p. 69). Hence, ecocritics must not regard nature and culture as opposites, but rather as entities that are in constant flux and always intermingled.
In this dualism between nature and culture, nature is often socially constructed by the meaning we give to it and subsequently is often considered as an ‘objectively existing thing out there’. Ecocritic Timothy Morton explores the way we think about, talk about and construct the natural world in Ecology Without Nature. Rethinking Environmental Aesthetics (2007). Morton argues that in fact nature itself is far from “natural” (p. 14). He later continues by saying that nature “is an arbitrary rhetorical construct, empty of independent, genuine existence behind or beyond the texts we create about it.” (p. 22). That what is natural and that what is “unnatural” or (socially) constructed is always indecipherable. The fact that we think there is something like “nature” implies the underlying
understanding that our idea of nature is one we have (socially) constructed. Morton does not say that there is no such thing as nature – indeed there is, and we are at once surrounded by it and embedded in it – but in order to be ecocritical one should lose the idea of nature since it is “the one thing that maintains an aesthetic distance between us and them, us and it, us and “over there””. (Morton 2007: p. 204).
Neil Evernden wrote about such theories on the natural world long before ecology gained popularity in the study of arts and humanities.2 Evernden’s work is primarily concerned with how humans – as cultural beings – apprehend and experience nature. He tries to make explicit that there’s a connection in the way we see the world and “the fact that we are destroying our own habitat” (Jensen 2004: p. 112) The way we see and experience the world is often linked with feelings of the sublime. I will come back to this notion in the following chapter. However, the sublime has much to do with what we determine as beautiful in nature. Our actions are determined by the way we see things. So the way we see nature, determines our behavior with it. Therefore, if one experiences a feeling of the sublime within nature, than it is likely one might change its attitude towards nature. Furthermore
2 In fact, in Beyond Ecology: Self, Place, & the Pathetic Fallacy Evernden advocates for greater interest and
research in ecology in the study of arts and humanities in order to achieve a better understanding of the relatedness between man and “nature”, and a stronger environmental movement (1978).
Evernden’s work concentrates on the environmental thought and “the social constitution of natural entities.” (Jensen 2004: p112). In doing so, Evernden seems to take an even more radical stance than Morton does when it comes to talking about (ideas of) nature. He argues that in fact “nature” is a dangerous word, since “there is no such thing as Nature, there are simply other entities.” When we talk about nature, we merely talk about concepts of nature, and that, as Evernden stresses, is really all they are; concepts (Jensen 2004: pp. 112-113). In the same way that Morton argues that we should lose the idea of nature, Evernden argues that we should renounce from “the belief that our role is to describe and explain, and thereby contain” (Jensen 2004: p. 221). In other words, we should release ourselves from the idea that we constantly have to give meaning to nature and instead should consider it as something that just is.
Culture can never achieve the status that nature possesses of an entity that just is. Because culture just isn’t. A thing like clothing and fashion never just is. It is a thing that’s produced by men and is given meaning to. At first clothing might seem as a natural thing; of course we have to get dressed, we need to protect our bodies from both cold and warm weather conditions and showing up naked to work is simply not accepted. In this sense, clothing and dressing up seems as the most natural thing to do. However clothing, through fashion, has become more and more so a way to express ourselves, and even a way of showing we belong to a particular group in society (like skaters, Goths or hippies) or that we belong to a certain class in society. Therefore, if we would consider nature as something that just is, I contend that the dualism between nature and culture or us and it still persists. It even problematizes the discussion further as it can be questioned if we should consider humans as cultural or natural beings? When talking about concepts of nature should we include humans to the natural ones or the cultural ones? In this sense I would argue that humans in essence are a product of nature, but through the very act of giving meaning to products, environments, experiences (and what not?) in life, and our subjugation to consumerist behavior, we have become cultural products.
Animation and Ecology
As the term “to animate” already indicates, animation films brings life to objects and machines (or cultural products more generally), animals, plants, and inanimate matters found in the natural world. As indicated previously in the section ‘Animation’, animation films are both imaginative and interpretative by nature. Furthermore, animation films are self-reflexive and, as asserted by Wells, Hardstaff and Clifton in Re-Imagining Animation. The Changing Face of the Moving Image (2008), are “constantly aware of its own high artifice and illusionism”, and due to the presence of an author who is “always configured in the self-conscious nature of the image-making”, Wells, Hardstaff and Clifton contend that “animation has insisted upon its distinctiveness and potential difference, if not subversiveness as a form” (2008, p. 24). Nevertheless, due to its aesthetics and the falsely assumed conviction that animation is solely for children, animation film is often accused for being too abstract, oversimplified, and incapable of portraying an effective representation on environmental issues and
conveying complex ideological, political and environmental messages. As Wells, Hardstaff and Clifton further indicate “animation is still considered innocuous and juvenile, despite its proven usefulness as a primary propaganda tool in Maoist China, for example, or indeed its proven efficacy as a ubiquitous repressive and manipulative political tool in Western corporate media.” (p. 48).
Nevertheless, animation does posses peculiar techniques and aesthetic forms that make for a believable and thus convincing representation of both the cultural and natural world, and therefore proves to be competent to criticize both natural and cultural constructed worlds – inside and outside narrative. Starosielski even asserts that it is exactly the use of abstraction and simplification that give animation its strength (2011: p 146). This will be further demonstrated later on by the work of Ursula Heise and the concept of ‘plasmaticness’, but first let me draw on some of the techniques used by animation to reflect on environmental issues.
In her essay Movements that are drawn: A history of environmental animation form The Lorax to FernGully to Avatar (2011) Starosielski distinguishes “three ways in which animation’s
experimental and imaginative views can challenge our environmental imagination” (2011: p. 151). The first one, environmental mutability, relies on the ability of animation to “contort the space and time of representation” (Starosielski 2011: p. 150). Animation can thus – more easily than non-animated films – represent environmental transformation while simultaneously blurring the relation between object and subject. The second, environmental interaction, “refers both to functional
interaction, defined as physical interaction with an object or text, and cognitive interaction, a mode of perception requiring a high level of interpretative response.” (2011: p. 151). Characters in
(environmental) animation films can manipulate and be manipulated by the environment in a variety of ways. Audiences then often identify themselves with the active relationship represented between the characters and their world, which ultimately could bring about a “cognitive interaction from the spectator as their interpretive attention is directed toward the environment as a possible actor.” (2011: p. 151). The final way in which Starosielski argues how animation can challenge our environmental imagination is when she describes how the environment is constructed. Starosielski argues that it are actually the first two methods that can alert the audience to recognize how the environment is actually more of a cultural construction than “an objectively existing nature”. She asserts that “through
exaggerated environmental transformation and the deliberate misrepresentation of reality, animation can lead audiences to question how the actual world has been constructed.” (2011: p. 151).
In Beyond Ecology (1978) Evernden discusses how the aesthetic experience of nature “lies in the relationship between the individual and the environment” (p. 18). Ones experience of the natural world is comprehended is not “simply in the object viewed, nor the mind of the viewer”, but through “a process, an interaction between the viewer and the viewed” (p. 18). This idea of how the aesthetic experience with nature is established, is closely related to Starosielski’s ‘environmental interaction’. Through animation’s ability to transform a character’s physical appearance and the appearance of the ability of the environment to take on different shapes and sizes (think about landscapes, trees, houses
etc.), the viewer is invited to interpret and respond to these changes, as they, more likely than not, deviate from the ‘real world’. This ability where animated character’s3
take on peculiar shapes is defined as plasmaticness, as stated in the previous section. Ursula Heise successfully describes how plasmaticness triggers our environmental awareness:
Speaking and acting animals, plants, and objects invite the viewer to see humans as only one of many manifestations of liveliness, intentionality, and agency in the fictional worlds of animation, in which human interests and endeavors are often pitted against those of animals, machines, or objects. Plasmatic bodies, both human and nonhuman, might seem to defy
environmentalist worries about the fragility of nature, but they also playfully explore ecological adaptation, resilience, and the synthetic, human-made ecologies that define the future of nature in the Anthropocene, the age in which humans transform even the most basic structures of their planet. By questioning how and why we discover agency in nonhumans, how organisms become objects and objects organisms, animated film persistently draws attention to the reification of nature in modern societies and its opposite, the encounter with nature as a realm populated by a variety of nonhuman agents. (2014, p. 305)
The description Heise gives here on how plasmaticness invites the viewer to rethink extant ideologies on the relation between humans and the natural world, much resembles the ideas of deep ecology. By animation’s ability to produce new realities – indeed a reality that is ‘ecocentric’ instead of
anthropocentric, and where all species flourish and are recognized among all others – it can be argued that animation film certainly is able to challenge our environmental thoughts and raise awareness on our natural habitat and environmental issues. While it also could be argued that this might seem as an idealized world that seems far from feasible, we should keep in mind that the animated film is always interpretative and self-reflexive. Nevertheless, the art of animating can be compared to making a portrait. Evernden suggests that:
The artist is not doing landscape paintings; he is doing landscape portrait, or place portraits. And just as the serious portraitist attempts to capture the essential qualities of his subject, qualities which would otherwise be known only to the subject’s friends, so the landscape artist gives us a glimpse of the character of the land that would otherwise require long experience to achieve. The artist makes the world personal – known, loved, feared, or whatever, but not neutral. (1978: p. 19)
Just like the portraitist, animators do not wish to make the fictional world a replica or a reflection of the ‘real’ world, but instead attempts to create a different world in which the essential qualities of
3 When talking about animated ‘characters’ I talk about both the human and nonhuman characters, as well as
(parts of) the natural and cultural environment represented. In contrast to live-action films, in animation every single detail is considered, from the way how a character’s hair falls, or the way a doorbell looks and rings and then to the colors and shapes of trees (think The Lorax, 2012).
existence are portrayed. Indeed, it is the animator’s personal interpretation of a reality, which can, and often will, be loved (Up, FernGully) or feared (WALL-E). And precisely because this world is a personal interpretation, just like Evernden asserts, it can never be neutral. Furthermore, in animation neither the natural world or the human environment are treated as inert entities (Heise 2014: p. 303), on the contrary, these environments and the humans, animals, plants, organisms and other nonhuman agents that populate them, are in fact, very much alive. This, at once, is also the understanding and practice of animism; the idea that all nonhumans have a soul and the attribution of life to all nonliving matters. The practice of animism is just another one of the peculiar features that differentiates
animation from live-action films.
With the American (cinematic) culture as their focal point, Murray and Heumann4 affirm that animated films (both short films and feature films) with a focus on ecology, “ask an audience to re-perceive everyday issues, themes, and knowledge related to differing phases of the American environmental movement” (2011: p.2). In relation to the historical and cultural context and the ecological approach of a film, Murray and Heumann argue that American animated films reveal three narrative and aesthetic patterns: “the power of nature over the human world, the need for controlling human intervention and nurturing the natural world in order to strengthen their interdependence, and criticism of human exploitation of the natural world.” (2011: p. 5). While Murray and Heumann argue that all three of these narrative and aesthetic patterns are present in American animated films, I believe that in every animated film at least one of the three patterns is supported more extensively than the other.
Since I will be examining the films also in relation to nostalgia, I find it necessary to explore the meaning of nostalgia and how it is related to the environment. Indeed, nostalgia is often discussed in relation with the environment. Or conversely, the environment is often discussed with notions of nostalgia. Hence, the combination of nostalgia and environment is often found in nature writings and ecocritical texts. This might not come as a surprise, since simply formulated nostalgia is a longing to a different – often ‘happier’ and ‘better’ – time or place, usually located in the past. Nostalgia is a compound of the Greek word ‘nostos’, meaning homecoming, and ‘algo’, meaning pain or suffering. The relation is then readily made. As mentioned earlier, the word ecology is compounded by the Greek word ‘oikos’, meaning home and in a broader ecological term it simply means nature. If nostalgia means a yearn for the past, or more specifically a yearn to ‘come back home again’, then in ecological writings, this could mean a yearn for a nature in the past. Jeremy Davies discusses the relation between environment and nostalgia in Sustainable Nostalgia (2010), where he, more specifically, relates nostalgia to sustainability. He argues that “the dream of sustainability, […], is a
4 In the introduction of their book That’s All Folks. Ecocritical Readings of American Animated Features (2011:
p. 2) Murray and Heumann make a distinction in the different ecological movements that altogether form the American environmental movement. These are: hu-man ecology, organismic ecology, economic ecology, and chaotic ecology.
nostalgia for the future. Its fundamental desire is precisely that which the nostalgic yearns for: a stable home, free from the losses of time.” (p. 264).
In animation, implementing nostalgic elements can thus work to bring about sentimental feelings of nature. The viewer is made aware of the ever-worsening conditions of the present environment and realizes that change and intervention is needed for the benefit of both human and nonhuman life. Nostalgia can be a personal experience, but it can also be experienced through a cultural collective remembrance, one that many individuals of a (cultural) group, or nation, can relate to. Animation films work on two levels in relation with (cultural) collective remembrance. On the one hand, since animation film is often attributed to a younger audience, adults who watch an animation film might feel sentimental about their younger years as kids and teens and bring up memories of how careless the world then seemed to be. On the other hand, through its narrative aesthetics animation can play with collective remembrance and create an enjoyable moment of recognition for many viewers. Through what I call ‘environmental nostalgia’, in which the both the natural and cultural environment are represented through a nostalgic setting, animation films can present an identifiable environment and simultaneously provoke the viewer to rethink the environment we live in and how we’re exploiting our natural habitat. By use of an nostalgic environment animation can suggest a different reading of the environment and make viewers more conscious of their behaviors.
My goal then, is to examine and argue that through the uses of animism, nostalgia and a representation of the sublime, animation film is capable of adopting an ecocritical stance and able to reflect on the interrelations between such dualisms as nature/culture, human/nonhuman. The animated film achieves this by presenting imagined (interpretative), yet believable worlds. I will substantiate this claim, by examining to what extent the films make use of animism, nostalgia and the sublime, and consider in what ways this serves as a contribution to their critical position on the environment. Finally I wish to determine how each film reflects on the dualism and interrelatedness between nature and culture. The first one of these films to be analyzed is WALL-E (2008) which is a critique, as Murray and Heumann state, of ‘human exploitation of the natural world’. It will be examined in relation to notions of (post-)apocalyptic narratives, consumerism and nostalgia. Thereafter, I will address FernGully: The Last Rainforest (1992) which was one of the first animated feature films to attract considerable attention from both the general public as politicians. FernGully, pleading for preservation of the natural world, will be examined by locating the sublime in Starosielski’s notion of ‘environmental interaction’, and an understanding of ‘the wilderness’.Even though I advocate the many ways in which animation reflect on environmental issues and the ideologies they encourage, I want to note that I do not wish to argue that animation films provide a better representation of
ecological issues than documentary or fictional live-action films. I simply believe animation films can bring about different thoughts and ideas to raise critical awareness of the environment among
FERNGULLY AND ENVIRONMENTAL INTERACTION: PRESERVRING THE NATURAL WORLD
FernGully is an Australian-American animated film from 1992. The film takes place in Australia where the last rainforest, FernGully, is located. Inside the rainforest live tree spirits, or fairies, who “nurture the harmony of all living things” as Magi Lune, the mother figure of the rainforest explains. They believe humans have gone extinct by an evil creature named Hexxus; the very spirit of
destruction. Magi Lune possesses magical powers by which she could trap Hexxus inside an
enchanted tree. When the naïve fairy Crysta decides to explore the world outside FernGully and flies above the treetops she discovers smoke from Mount Warning. Crysta befriends Batty Koda, a megabat that has been experimented on by humans. Together they head off to Mount Warning and discover dead trees that are marked for cutting. Crysta accidently shrinks Zak, a human being part of a larger group destroying the rainforest. The three go on a journey together and Zak learns to appreciate the rainforest.
The title of the film FernGully: The Last Rainforest already indicates that nature, wilderness and rainforests are endangered. FernGully is the last remaining rainforest and therefore should be preserved and taken care of. While WALL-E approaches environmental issues by questioning the human/nonhuman dualism, FernGully discusses and critiques human’s relationship with nature from an ecocentric approach and treats nature as if it has a mind and soul of its own. The film takes on the standpoint from the natural world rather than a human, cultural point of view. Moreover the film seems to somewhat neglect the way humans think and feel, and instead takes on an animistic approach in which nature is considered to have both emotional and physical feelings of its own. My goal here is to examine in what ways FernGully is presented as a wilderness, and to what extent FernGully (the rainforest) can be considered a wilderness. Furthermore I shall locate ‘the sublime’ and examine how this may trigger not only environmental interaction, but perhaps even more so, our environmental awareness.
Tracing the wilderness and locating the sublime
‘Wilderness’ cannot be comprehended by one single definition. In fact, a or the ‘definition’ of the wilderness is under continual change, therefore it is wiser and safer to speak of notions or descriptions of the wilderness, rather than ‘the definition’ of the wilderness. Indeed throughout history men has given different meaning to what a wilderness is and how it is experienced. However, when speaking about a wilderness it is important to distinguish it from the wild, and from wildness; these have different meanings, but are often confused with one another or are understood as the same thing. Another crucial point to consider is the place that humanity takes in when speaking and thinking about wildernesses. Could it even be that humanity takes no place in the wilderness and does not belong
there? Or how about humans and wildness? Finally, how does the sublime relate to the wilderness, and perhaps even to wildness?
Perhaps the most common and traditional concept of wilderness is that of the 1964 U.S. Wilderness Act where wilderness is described as “an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain” (DeLancey 2012: p. 26). Indeed, at first one might think of wilderness as a large, possibly dangerous (wild) area,
untouched by man. A place where any form of civilization is hard to find and a place where survival skills are needed in order to make your way through it. Or at least where one needs an experienced guide who’s familiar with the area so that you won’t fall for the traps that nature may hide from you. But is this a reliable and accurate description of wilderness? Is wilderness always a pristine area left untouched by humans? And if wilderness – at times – is affected by humankind, then what defines wilderness? In what ways is it affected, or is it merely taken care of and preserved? What ‘traits’ do we ascribe to wilderness?
As an environmental historian William Cronon studies the human interaction with nature over time. In his 1996 essay The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature Cronon traces the different meanings society (or societies) have given to wilderness. He starts off with some Christian notions of wilderness in which it is perceived as a dark place that “had little or nothing to offer civilized men and women” and where nothing good was to be found. A place where one would only come against their will, fearful and shivering (p. 9). Even in the eighteenth century, wilderness was characterized with words such as deserted, savage, desolate, barren and, ‘a waste’ (Cronon: p. 8). It appears as if wilderness has no positive adjunctions and was typified as a fearful place. As Cronon notes “the emotion one was most likely to feel in its presence was “bewilderment” or terror.” (Cronon: p. 8). If this is the case, then for FernGully the rainforest is not a wilderness for humans, but instead wilderness turns into a fearful place for the fairies that actually live there. In fact, it would be mankind that makes the rainforest a fearful place, by destroying it and leaving it uncontrolled and barren: impossible for organisms (such as the fairies) to flourish.
However, this biblical view of the wilderness as a dark and dangerous – even diabolical – place changed by the end of the nineteenth century. Instead of a place to be feared, the wilderness had become a spectacle, a place which one had to visit, and by doing so, one could achieve an
otherworldly or even godly experience. The Romantic concept of the wilderness held the belief that it was a place for religious redemption (Cronon 1996: p. 13). The wilderness, in accordance with the Romantics, now was a place of the sublime (Cronon 1996: p. 10). German philosopher Immanuel Kant was the first to introduce the notion of the sublime. Experiencing something as sublime is different from experiencing or viewing something as beautiful. For Kant, experiencing something as beautiful is bound by the form of objects within definite boundaries. The sublime, on the other hand, is found in formless objects, exactly because there is a lack of form. Because of the absence of form, our mind – indeed, our reason – cannot fully comprehend that what is presented to us. The sublime then refers to
an indeterminate relationship between the faculties of the imagination and of reason; the impotence to comprehend the presented object, induces our minds to attempt to comprehend what we see and therefore our imagination enters a relationship with reason. That what we see or experience is too large to grasp our minds to. More precisely we are overwhelmed by what we see, and at once are in awe. Nevertheless, the feeling we receive is pleasure (Ginsborg 2014). However, Kant distinguishes two notions of the sublime: the mathematically and dynamically. Even though Kant distinguishes between these two sorts of the sublime, this is not to say that there are different kinds of the sublime. These are not two different kinds, but only two ways to consider the sublime in relation to nature. In the case of the mathematical sublime, “we are confronted with something that is so large that it overwhelms imagination’s capacity to comprehend it.” (Ginsborg 2014). The imagination seeks a relationship with reason to comprehend that what is presented but fails to do so. Our imagination is infinite, but reason is limited to real, existing ideas and understandings. Furthermore, within the mathematically sublime, the representation must not involve the idea of purpose. Hence, the sublime is often found in nature, as we can never fully comprehend nature.
The dynamically sublime, on the other hand, can be experienced when nature is considered “a power that has no dominion over us” (Ginsborg 2014). The feeling of the dynamically sublime thus occurs when we experience nature as fearful, yet are not really afraid because we still feel safe. As Ginsborg observes, being in this situation makes us “recognize our physical powerlessness” over nature’s power, yet at the same time “it reveals a capacity for judging ourselves as independent of nature and a superiority over nature” (2014). However, taken from a deep ecological view, this recognition of ‘judging ourselves as independent of nature and a superiority over nature’, is somewhat problematic as it suggests a usefulness of nature for the purpose of mankind. Deep ecology, however, “demands recognition of intrinsic value in nature” (Garrard Ecocriticism 2012: p. 24). Even though, as deep ecology suggests, we are embedded in nature, rather than independent of nature, one should not underestimate the powers of nature, or more specifically; the power of the wilderness. While we might have some agency over nature in the sense that we can and should preserve our natural environments, our powerlessness over nature should above all remind us that mankind is of no more value than any other species, organism or matter in nature (nor is it of any less value!). However, for Kant, the pleasure that results from the sublime, inextricably occurs with a feeling of displeasure. So even though notions and experiences of the wilderness were associated more positively, in the case of the sublime, there always is a feeling of displeasure and discomfort.
The myth of the frontier was another cultural movement that led to the transition in
experiencing wilderness as a dark and fearful place, to a place where one could escape the allurements and confining beliefs of a debilitating modern civilization in order to live a more simpler, primitive and ‘truer’ life. Moreover it was a place for national renewal and rediscovering what it was to be American (Cronon 1996: p. 13). The myth of the frontier always had a nostalgic background.
and so they mourned for a simpler and ‘truer’ world (p.13). It was believed that wild land had been crucial in the making of the nation and thus had to be preserved. Even though the frontier was gone, by preservation, the frontier experience could still be lived (Cronon 1996: p. 16). Cronon continues by stating that the idea of wilderness and the visitation of it now belonged to an elitist group of modern society. Wilderness – seen as a quintessential place – had become a place of recreation. This was, however, an insult to Native Americans and farmers who (once) lived on this wild land. The elitist groups didn’t believe wilderness was a place that could be habited (1996: p. 15). Additionally, some paleoecologists believe that if the Native Americans had not managed their land:
the vast, biologically diverse open prairies of North and South America would not have existed, that the American heartland would instead have been grown over with brush. Some believe that the North American forests would not have been as rich and diverse in the absence of the Indian’s pyrotechnology. (Callicott 2002: p.175)
This statement implicitly contends that a wilderness, in fact, can be habited and even more so that through habitation, the wilderness is actually being preserved. It thus contradicts the common concept of wilderness that is believed to be a pristine area untouched by humans. DeLancey, who speaks of wilderness as a complex ecosystem, claims that it is very possible for a wilderness to have humans as part of the organisms living in the ecosystem (2012: p. 31). He continues that in fact humans might even benefit the ecosystem as it is possible that “more individual organisms, and more kinds of organisms” will exist “if there were humans in that landscape” (p. 31). Furthermore, the ecosystem might not even be a wilderness without the presence of humans (DeLancey 2012: p. 31). Still, all these different notions of the wilderness that I mentioned before prove that ‘wilderness’ is a culturally constructed place, just like nature itself is inescapable of similar denominations. Because of all the different meanings given to it, “nature in itself flickers between things—it is both/and or neither/nor.” (Morton 2007: p. 18). Or as Cronon announces in the beginning of his essay there is nothing natural about wilderness (and thus, there’s nothing natural about nature!). He writes:
Far from being the one place on earth that stands apart from humanity, it is quite profoundly a human creation – indeed, the creation of very particular human cultures at very particular moments in human history. (1196: p. 7)
Wilderness is thus a product of civilization. Cronon continues that when we think about wilderness, and nature in general, a mirror is being hold up for us in which we imagine to see nature while in fact what we see is “the reflection of our own unexamined longings and desires”. Thus the “nonhuman world we encounter in wilderness is far from being merely our own invention.” (Cronon 1996: p. 8). We desire to see what we believe is the wilderness, while in fact what we really see is merely a representation of our constructed view of the wilderness. Essentially, Cronon argues that wilderness is
nothing more than an imagined world ‘out there’. It is a place to look at and cherish. Furthermore, it is a place we’ve created in our minds to be peaceful, a place we visit to escape from the artificialities of modern society – only to return to that same society moments later. It is an authentic landscape which suggest the illusion of freedom. Perhaps the danger in attempting to comprehend (or even represent) the wilderness, lies in Cronon’s argument that it is nothing more than an imagined world ‘out there’ and that whatever we see or find in the wilderness is nothing more than an illusion. But if the
wilderness is our (illusory) escape to freedom and a peaceful land, then why don’t we understand that our society is in peril? And that it is us, human beings, that induced this endangered world. If the wilderness is an escape to freedom and peace, than the cultural world (that we constructed ourselves) must be a world of make-belief.
Forces of destruction and the sublime
While FernGully presents its viewers a fantasy world inhabited by fairies, it does not wish to represent the rainforest as a fantasy. In fact, through the use of animism, plasmaticness, and the sublime, the film warns us for the real harm that humans cause to rainforests if deforestation is not controlled soon. Thus, even though FernGully presents a fantasy world, the message the film conveys is not much of a fantasy, but more of a reality. While the film clearly fights against deforestation, it claims that not only human beings can harm nature, but that there are other ‘forces of destruction’. In fact, Hexxus, the very spirit of destruction, is presumed to have caused human extinction. Even though humans did not become extinct, it implies that nature might indeed be a self-regulating entity in which humanity is not safer than any other species from extinction. It might just be the natural way in which nature evolves. It thus seems as if either way, by human forces or by natural forces inherent to earth’s biosphere, the natural order (including human beings!) is vulnerable to possibly devastating, irrevocable changes. Dinosaurs have become extinct, so it might not be unlikely for humans to await the same fate.
Sublime moments can be traced in different moments in the film. The first is when Crysta flies above the treetops and glances over the rainforest. The view shows an endless, tranquil and healthy looking image of the rainforest, but far into the horizon there arises a big black cloud behind the mountain tops. On the one hand the sublime lies in the presentation of something greater than Crysta can grasp; she is the first to fly above the treetops of the rainforest and appears to be in awe of what she sees. It is the form of Kant’s understanding of the mathematically sublime. Crysta is unable to understand and comprehend the image of nature that she has just witnessed. Therefore, shortly after, she visits Magi Lune and asks her what the black cloud was. Crysta not only learns that the cloud is probably smoke, but also learns what mountains are. At the same time, when Crysta finds herself above the treetops, she is nearly attacked by what appears to be an eagle. The eagle implies what dangers lie behind the supposedly safe environment of the FernGully rainforest. It further suggests that the wilderness is not as safe and sound as it is thought to be and that in fact features of the wild appear in our direct environment. Furthermore Crysta proves to have an idealized perspective on FernGully,
and thus an idealized perspective of her own habitat; the wilderness. Indeed, she is unaware of the ‘wild’ in wilderness.
According to Cronon however, the idealized concept of the wilderness induces the case where we tend to forget about the wilderness in our direct environment like our backyards or a lake nearby the city. (1996: p. 22). According to Cronon we should learn that wilderness can be found anywhere. This, however, is something we still need to learn, because:
By teaching us to fetishize sublime places and wide open country, these peculiarly American ways of thinking about wilderness encourages us to adopt too high a standard for what counts as “natural.” If it isn’t hundreds of square miles big, if it doesn’t give us God’s-eye view or grand vistas, if it doesn’t permit us the illusion that we are alone on the planet, then it really isn’t natural. It’s too small, too plain, or too crowded to be authentically wild. (Cronon 1996: p. 22)
Indeed, in a society where we want everything to be bigger, better, and more, and because of the cultural meaning of wilderness that has become so familiar to all, it is hard to take a step back and notice the wilderness that surrounds us. Cronon is not on his own by arguing that wilderness can also be found in the smaller things. Sigurd F. Olson in his essay What Is Wilderness? also suggests that wilderness can be found in places “no matter how small”, which results that wilderness becomes much more accessible to millions of people5 (Olson 1968: p. 151). But if the wilderness is a “compellingly beautiful place free of human imprint, an object of great worth precisely in having escaped human domination, where natural processes reign unimpeded.” (Proctor 1998: p. 355) to what extent then, is FernGully still a wilderness when humans started logging? Hasn’t it actually become more of a wilderness than before humans entered? And can the desolated and demolished earth represented in WALL-E be called a ‘wilderness’? It becomes necessary not only to rethink and re-evaluate the notions around wilderness, but also consider the meaning of wildness
In order to trace and understand the wild in wilderness I shall refer to Henry David Thoreau’s famous statement: “in Wildness is the preservation of the world” (Proctor 1998: p. 358). Indeed, he is not referring to wilderness, but to wildness. According to Thoreau, humans play a significant part in the destruction of the untamed natural world (wildernesses) and the systematical order of it. The beauty of nature lies in the wild aspect of it. It is in observing or entering the wild part of nature that human beings come to realize that it is something we should preserve instead of deplete. A further distinction between the wilderness and wildness should be made. Unlike wilderness, wildness can be found anywhere, for it is not a denominated, demarcate place, like wilderness is. In fact, it is quite the opposite. Wildness is a state of mind. As Proctor (1998) quotes David Rothenberg, wildness:
5
Article found in The Meaning of Wilderness. Essential Articles and Speeches by Sigurd F. Olson, but edited and with an introduction by David Backes.
is a quality that beguiles us, a tendency we both flee and seek. It is the unruly, that which won’t be kept down, that crazy love, that path that no one advises us to take – it’s against the rules, it’s too far, too fast, beyond order, irreconcilable with what we are told is right. Wild Thing. Wild Life. Wild One. Wild Child. Wild Culture. (Rothenberg qtd. in Proctor 1998: p. 358)
In line with the previous, wildness literally means possessing the quality of being wild and untamed. A quality which is often produced in nature. In this belief, wilderness is the place where wildness is created or performed. But if wildness can be found anywhere and is a ‘tendency that we both flee and seek’ and in fact is really a state of mind, then I would suggest that the sublime is closely related to (the properties of) wildness. Since the sublime is related to beauty, then to have a sublime feeling is to have an aesthetic reaction (Novak 1972: p. 37). As the sublime is often accompanied by a feeling of displeasure, the sublime is “generally suspenseful, attended by terror and dread, and often relieved by the uproar of cataracts, earthquakes, fires, storms, thunder, volcanoes.” (Novak 1972: p. 37).
Earthquakes, storms and fires are often experienced as fearful and are considered as the wild part of nature. However as Novak further notes: “Nothing is more sub-lime than mighty power and strength.” (1972: p. 37). Thus, while they are fearful they also create a pleasurable overwhelming feeling.
If it is not the wilderness that shows itself, than it sure is the wild, or wildness, that occurs as Crysta heads off to Mount Warning. Images of a green healthy and safe forest take place for reddish, brown, black and dark images of dying trees. The sky has turned dark and a group of black crows fly towards Crysta, again signaling the danger that awaits the population of FernGully. To a certain extent the rainforest resembles the apocalyptic and desolated environment found in WALL-E. Even though in E there’s no natural world left to be seen; no trees or any of that kind (that is, not until WALL-E finds the plant), both environments resemble each other in their overall appearance. Both present the environment as a wasteland. The color tone of the environment is brown-reddish and implies a dying or deserted earth, ravaged by both natural and cultural (human) destruction. Also, both films present moments of the sublime in somewhat fearful environments. For FernGully this takes place shortly after the environment of Mount Warning is introduced where lumberjacks are destroying the precious rainforest by cutting down trees. Zak, one of the lumberjacks approaches a big, black and fearfully looking tree. He stands before it and is in awe by its dimensions and appearance; it is nothing like the other trees he’s marked. Indeed it is the tree Hexxus is captured in and as soon as he marks it, the tree is made animate; Hexxus, what could be considered the (evil) spirit or soul of the tree, is released by the spray can; a toxic for the natural world and thus a force of destruction. However, the tree Hexxus is captured in, is not only animated in the sense of given life to, but is also animated in the cinematic sense. The Hexxus tree is animated to stand out and distinguish itself from the other trees in the environment. Unlike the other trees that are lighter of color and mostly presented as tall, ‘lean’ and straight trees, the tree Hexxus is captured in, is a massive, black tree, with branches resembling long
arms, able to seize anything that passes by. Animation, as a cinematic form, does not try to mimic reality, but instead attempts to create a plausible reality where the practice of animism (attributing life, or a soul, to nonhuman things), is applied.
Even though Kant argues that the sublime is mainly to be found in nature, it is questioned whether the sublime could also be found in pieces of art or other objects. Through the act of animation and animism, and by way of attributing plasmaticness to a certain character, object or phenomena, I would argue that the sublime could very well be found in meanings than nature. In the case of WALL-E I’d consider WALL-EVWALL-E as the ultimate embodiment of the sublime. For seven centuries WALL-WALL-E’s only living company was a cockroach. Therefore when he sees EVE for the very first time he is
overwhelmed by her appearance and yet cannot fully comprehend who or what she is, why she is on this earth and what her directive is. Due to her modern design – in fact resembling much of the Apple products (iMac, iPod, iPhone, iPad) – EVE is aesthetically beautiful; a shiny, white egg-shaped robot (whereas WALL-E looks like a rusty, rugged robot) and is therefore a pleasure to look at. EVE’s behavior however, does not fit her graceful design and appearance. EVE proves to posses some destructive powers. Her destructive powers show off when she creates a major explosion by the shipwrecks, causing them to fall over like domino stones. But also when WALL-E takes EVE to his home and shows her how to dance, EVE initially bounces her body ferociously on the floor and in a second attempt, blasts WALL-E into the wall while swirling. Despite her actions, WALL-E remains fascinated by EVE’s appearance and presence. and thus experiences a sublime feeling when he observes her and at the same time tries to comprehend her.
Environmental interaction and the magic forces of creation
Regardless of the meanings we ascribe to wilderness and nature, it does not mean that there is no such place as a nonhuman nature and a pristine wilderness. It are the connotations we give to wilderness – and nature in general – that transform it into an ‘unnatural’ environment, or better, a socially
constructed environment. Wilderness, however, does consist of vast, desolate places, and more importantly, wilderness and nature do exist outside humanity’s perceptions of it. Nature and
wildernesses are simply there. The main argument FernGully wants to make, seems to be that in order to preserve this pristine wilderness, one should in fact interact with it. By interacting with the
environment one gets to learn the environment and appreciate it at the same time. However,
acknowledging the idea that nature simply is there, does not take away the fact that for humans, nature in some ways is always culturally constructed. Even more so, “ecological problems, are features of our society, arising out of our dealings with nature, from which we should like to free ourselves” (John Passmore qtd. in Garrard Ecocriticism 2012: p. 6). Even though humans’ relationship with nature is not really explained (except through logging and causing destruction), and the film only poses one ecological problem (deforestation), FernGully nevertheless advocates human interaction with the natural environment. For Crysta, the relation with the environment is not much different than a
relation with any other person or species. Crysta is then also surprised when she finds out that Zak does not talk or communicate in some other way with nature. She asks him to listen to what nature has to tell. While Zak is impressed by the FernGully rainforest, he does not yet fully engage or interact with his new environment. His appreciation for and understand of the environment arises when he and Crysta go on a small journey in the underwater world of FernGully. By the end of the journey, when Crysta leaves Zak in search of Magi to return him back to his human size, Zak for the first time feels the pain of a tree when he tries to climb it. More importantly, he now understands the damage that deforestation causes.
Unlike most environmental narratives, FernGully treats humans as ‘the Other’. By looking at humans as the other, we can engage more critically in the narrative and question our habits and attitude towards nature. While in most narratives the world is invaded or corrupted by some sort of nonhuman agents (aliens, zombies, robots), in FernGully the opposite occurred. It are in fact human beings themselves that ‘invade’ in the wilderness and thereby disturb the natural order. While some may criticize FernGully for its simplified ending, one could also read it as the magical forces of the rainforest, in which earth is able to recover itself. The end here resembles the ending of WALL-E, in which it is also assumed that nature was able to restore itself. But the film actually resembles WALL-E in yet another way. While in the openings scene Magi Lune explains how Hexxus nearly destroyed the rainforest and ‘the humans fled in fear, never to return’, the event strikes as an apocalypse. While it remains unclear exactly how long ago this event took place, it also remains questioned whether ‘the spirit of destruction’ (Hexxus) is what could have kept humans out of the rainforest. This seems very unlikely, especially since more often than not, humans feel superior over the natural world.
WALL-E: FROM POST-APOCALYPTIC DYSTOPIA TO A NOSTALGIC UTOPIA
WALL-E takes place some seven hundred years in the future. Like many traditional Hollywood films, WALL-E opens with an establishing shot, indicating the film’s theme and introducing the viewer to the world of WALL-E. The shot opens in space and then moves closer to earth. But earth is not a place of (wild) nature and lived cities. Instead, all one sees is a world covered in a reddish-brown haze. Moreover, earth is covered by debris, and anything ‘natural’ or ‘green’ (such as trees, or even people) are nowhere to be found. The film presents a landscape that resembles a wasteland, or a
post-apocalyptic landscape. Indeed, WALL-E takes place in a dystopian future where piles of debris are built into skyscrapers. When the film further zooms in, into what seems to be a city, it becomes clear that earth is a desolated place with no traces of life to be found. It even appears as if humankind has become extinct. However, signs of a multinational corporation called Buy N Large (BnL) are dominating the streets and when later in the film it becomes clear that humankind has not become extinct but has actually left earth to reside in space, we see that BnL continues to dominate mankind as they live in the ‘Axiom’; a cruise ship-like spaceship operated by BnL. While humans have decided to abandon earth to reside in space, earth is not entirely void of life, a little robotic trash compacter, named WALL-E (Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth Class) and his companion, a cockroach.
The apocalyptic narrative and its revelation
In literature and film, plenty of stories have been written on catastrophic events such as alien and zombie invasions, epidemics, natural and environmental disasters, nuclear wars and ultimately the destruction of planet earth; or the end of the world. WALL-E is such an apocalyptic story, albeit a post-apocalyptic one. Apocalyptic narratives, or eschatological (end of time) writings find their origins mostly in Christian, Jewish and Muslim religion, between 200 BCE and 200 CE (Garrard 2012; Stewart and Harding 1999). Apocalypse, however, derives from the Greek word ‘Apocalyptein’ meaning to unveil or a disclosure and most likely refers to John’s Revelation as reported in the Book of Revelation of the New Testament (Stewart and Harding 1999: p. 286). While the original definition of apocalypse refers to a revelation, today it is most commonly known and referred to as what really is ‘apocalyptic eschatology’. It refers to themes and motifs on the end of the world in apocalyptic narrative (or cinema for that matter), and is thus a revelation of our knowledge about the end of times. When writing about the apocalyptic it is this definition that shall be adopted throughout this paper; tales about the end of the world.
For over 3,000 years, as Greg Garrard (2012) remarks in his book Ecocriticism, “a fluctuating proportion of the world’s population has believed that the end of the world is imminent.” (p. 93), thus in apocalyptic narratives, the catastrophic scenario presented or described is an interpretative (thus not necessarily a presumable) account of how the world may end. What matters in such narratives is that they convey a representation of a realistic fear of what might or could happen when the world reaches
