Animation is Cinema
One of my earliest memories was sitting mere inches from my TV, watching animation.
Whether it was anime like Pokemon, Disney movies like The Lion King, or whatever the hell Johnny Bravo was about, I was enamored by watching something that looked so different from the real world—something that more closely matched the scenery in my imagination.
As I grew up, I noticed that the word “cinema” was reserved almost exclusively for live-action media. Animated movies and shows seldom, if ever, received that same accolade. They’re often brushed aside as a children’s genre, while adults watch “real” cinema made by human actors and physical cameras. But of course, how can childish works like Monster or Akira ever hold a candle to what actual filmmakers can do?
Well, not only can they hold their own, I’d argue they can even surpass many of them.
Throughout the last decade, as my taste in film matured, I learned what separates a good story from an instant classic. This, of course, led me down the rabbit hole of how to construct a compelling plot, create relatable characters, and tell an impactful story.
The more animated movies and shows—primarily Japanese anime—I watched, the better I understood these storytelling techniques. After watching 200+ animated movies and shows, I can confidently say that many of them stand miles above most of the live-action films and TV shows being pumped out from Hollywood today—in my very humble opinion, of course.
Yet, with all these animated movies and shows under my belt, one of them has quickly risen to claim a permanent spot in my top five shows of all-time list.
That show is Arcane.
My (spoiler-free) obsession with Arcane
I always hated League of Legends. I never understood the game, its premise, its characters, or why anyone would subject themselves to the torture of grinding for hours on end to play it.
So, when I discovered that Arcane was based in the League of Legends universe, I was hesitant to watch it. Not only did I not know anything about the premise or characters, but why would I want to drag myself into that game’s lore?
That was until the glowing reviews started pouring in from every corner of the internet. It didn’t take long until I finally succumbed to the social pressure and watched it.
And boy, am I glad I did.
I won’t recap the show for you because this is not a review of Arcane (and you shouldn’t watch or read any review until you’ve seen the show first—trust me). Rather, it’s more of a love letter to the writers, artists, producers, animators, musicians, and anyone who had a hand in creating this sublime work of art.
While I had zero expectations when I first pressed “play,” I immediately found myself enamored by the richness of the world, the fluidity and dynamism of the animation (more on that below), and the nuances and depth of each character. That’s not even mentioning the well-constructed and intricate plot, which deserves an entire post all on its own.
To truly appreciate this show, however, you will need to watch it at least twice. The first viewing is to immerse yourself in the world, get to know the characters, and be scarred emotionally (no, I still haven’t recovered from it). The second viewing will allow you to appreciate the brilliance of the show by noticing all the small details you missed. From foreshadowing, stellar compositions, incredible soundtracks (I’m writing this post as I listen to their album on Spotify—it’s that good), and mesmerizing animations.
Oh, the animations.
Show, don’t tell
That’s the number one rule in storytelling. Describing things is boring; showing things is impactful. And let’s just say the Arcane animators might be sore from how hard they flexed their skills in this show. You can feel the passion and creativity they put into this show to make it what it is.
While we’re used to the cutesy animation style of studios like Disney and Pixar, Riot Games (the developer of League of Legends) brought their own unique flair that has set a new standard for the industry. The painting-esque style of animation that dominates this series was alone enough to make me fall in love with it, but that wasn’t good enough for the directors, apparently.
Sprinkled throughout the show are scenes that use a combination of different animation styles—watercolors, 2D, comic book style, you name it. It’s the combination of these styles that makes this show the most unique piece of animated media I have ever seen.
What blows my mind even more than the animations is how much is visually communicated through the scenes. Take this scene where Ekko fights Jinx (minor spoilers ahead):
In two minutes, we’re introduced to their relationship as children, contrasted starkly with where they currently stand. All of that is accomplished with a total of eight words being spoken. Through it, we learn of the playful nature these two had as children, how Jinx outshined Ekko in the past, how he remembered Jinx’s patterns and was able to avoid the final shot to gain the upper hand, and the good heart that he has that made him unable to finish off his childhood friend.
Two. Minutes.
If that wasn’t enough, they took it a step further in season two with this scene (major spoilers in the video below, so skip down to the last section if you haven’t seen season two yet):
Again, in about three and a half minutes, they managed to cram in enough information that could easily fill an entire episode. Rather than rely on dialogue to give us a tedious exposition dump that catches us up on what’s happened since the end of season one, they instead created this gem of a sequence.
In it, they managed to:
Recap what happened to the leaders of the Undercity
Show the power vacuum left behind, the turf wars it led to, and the motivations of each of the remaining Chem-Barons
Give a glimpse into the chaos that descended upon the children of the Undercity, who are being targeted by Chross (most likely to be exploited for child labor in his factory)
Reintroduce Jinx as the unpredictable wild card in the imbalance of power, while showing her decaying mental state
Introduce a new character that will be pivotal later on in the story
This scene, paired with the lyrics of the song, is the literal definition of “Show, don’t tell.” Aside from Jinx giving a few words to Isha towards the end, we don’t get any dialogue between the characters and what they want to achieve. We already know it because we’ve seen it. The animation is just the cherry on top that is stylized so well through the contrast of slow motion, freeze frames, and unique compositions that simply wouldn’t work in a live-action show. Luckily for us, animation is not bound by the limitations of our physical world.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is pure cinema.
Giving animation the respect it deserves
There’s an entire world of animated movies and shows that are not targeted toward children (no, I’m not talking about Rick and Morty and the like). Whether it’s beautiful anime like Attack on Titan and A Silent Voice or masterpieces like Arcane, there’s something for everyone to enjoy—from the hysterical to the downright gut-wrenching.
Nearly everything I learned about the mechanics of storytelling, plot devices, character development, and pacing can be traced back to the dozens of animated movies and shows I have watched over the years. This only proves that animation is not a genre—it’s a medium. A medium that lets its creators tell fantastic stories, whether they’re as mind-bending as the Arcane universe or more grounded in reality like Monster. It is simply a vehicle to share one’s creativity and tell an impactful story that can inspire people—one that can remain with them years after they’ve seen it.
Animation is cinema. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
