Canadian comic-book artist, writer, illustrator and animation background designer Paul Rivoche is best known for numerous animated projects, including the cult classic movie Rock & Rule, the graphic novel The Forgotten Man and working as a celebrated background designer and layout artist for shows such as Batman: The Animated Series, Batman Beyond and Justice League: The New Frontier. He also worked as background designer for Pablo Berger’s acclaimed Oscar-nominated feature Robot Dreams. Paul was kind enough to answer a few of our questions about his career in an email interview:
Animation Magazine: Congrats on your recent project, Robot Dreams. Can you tell us how you got involved with this amazing movie?
Paul Rivoche: My involvement with Robot Dreams began when I received an email in late August 2020 from José Luis Ágreda, the art director on Robot Dreams. He was the one who invited me to join the initial small group working to lay the foundations of the movie before they hired all the main staff. I worked on it for over a year as the lead background artist. I’m located in Toronto, Canada and José Luis is based in Spain, so we had not met in person — and still have not — but we were friendly over the internet for a long time, greatly respecting each other as artists after meeting on one of those internet forums where people chat and show their work. In his email he told me that he was working on this new 2D animated feature film and that the producers were setting a “pop-up” studio in Madrid, Spain.
José Luis told me that style of the backgrounds is realistic in the perspective, proportions and research: “It could be similar to Yves Chaland, or Daniel Torres … what they used to call ligne claire comics, although not so stylized, a bit more spontaneous. It will have also that kind of coloring: flat colors, no gradients or textures. It’s based on a graphic novel with a very loose style that I’m trying to give steroids to make it solid and structured. So, the style is not too graphic, and it needs solid perspective. To keep the comic-book style, the BGs will have black lines, and flat colors, although with strong lighting.”
So, reading this email from José Luis, I knew right away that I had to become involved. I didn’t know Pablo Berger or his films before Robot Dreams, but after researching them knew that it would be something special. As we made the film it was clear that he’s a generous and collaborative director who knows how to get the best out of his team.
What did you love about this charming 2D assignment?
I was interested and excited about this assignment because it allowed me to be part of a small team of people who were laying the foundations for what was clearly going to be a unique film. It allowed me to employ my love of perspective drawing and world building, all while drawing graphic novel style art.
What I also loved was that it’s a 2D animation film. I enjoy the better 3D films but in my opinion that look has now over-dominated everything. The market is saturated. Robot Dreams was a revival of 2D animated storytelling and animated acting and it has clearly “struck a nerve” with audiences worldwide, all the more so because it is a joyful return to clear and graphic 2D animation.
I loved the story as well, immediately upon watching the early animatic reels. Although the main characters are a dog and a robot, and it takes place in a cartoon version of 1980s New York City, the film at heart is a very human story, one which anyone in any culture can relate to. And the fact that it was wordless intrigued me even more. There are sound effects and music, but no spoken dialogue. You might think — when you only hear it described in words — that this approach wouldn’t work, but it’s amazing when you see it on the big screen as I finally did when it premiered here at the Toronto International Film Festival). It is like a fascinating hybrid of a graphic novel, a classic Disney film, and a silent film from the old days. And although a child could understand and enjoy the basic plot and events, adults will perceive the deeper commentary and subtle emotional observations about human relationships, love and loss. That’s why I said it was “unique!”
Another aspect I loved was the working experience. Unlike my employment at some (but not all) North American studios, I was given a lot of responsibility to create, artistic freedom — and was given respect as a veteran creator in my own right. In my career I’ve worked in a very wide range of commercial art — from advertising to comic books and graphic novels to educational illustration — and too often you can be treated as just another “cog” in the gears of a big machine. But if you’re just a cog, you’re regarded as replaceable. However, on this project I was trusted to do the job of creating the backgrounds without being constantly second-guessed. The sensibility was much more European and artistic — I knew that right away. Jose Luis Agreda is a very skilled artist and so I trusted his judgement. And Pablo is a very sensitive writer and director. We Skyped together and right away I knew it would work because we had mutual respect as artists. So what I loved was to be trusted to lay the visual foundations for the backgrounds in the film, working on my own here in Toronto, but doing so in parallel with Jose Luis and Pablo as they labored in Spain on the animatic reels with storyboard artist Macarena Gil. It was very intense and Jose Luis, as art director, seemed to be juggling a lot of assignments at once!
How closely did you work with Pablo to create the background designs of the movie? How long did it take?
Regarding the creation of the background designs, I worked most closely on a day-to-day basis with art director José Luis Ágreda. I did have some contact with Pablo Berger but he was mostly focused on working on the story and animatic. Pablo definitely saw my work but José Luis interacted with me on each setting we created. For some of the key locations on the film there was extensive reference material provided to me, while others had to be created entirely from scratch.
For an example of the first type, they had very specific directions about the design and arrangement of Dog’s apartment, which is seen from many angles and in many different moods throughout the film. So it was like a film set we would shoot on; it had to be real, not faked, which was consistent when seen from different angles and lighting. This approach grounded the film. The Dog’s Apartment “set” was to be a New York style “Railway Apartment,” a long narrow space like a railway line, with a bedroom at one end and a living room overlooking the street at the other end. They had references for every part of it, folders and folders of material, and I had to “digest” all this and turn it into careful perspective drawings which matched the angles and story intent of the animatic.
In contrast to the apartment design, some of the settings I was given were wide-open for exploration, as long as they fulfilled the needs of the story. An example of this was the auto scrapyard seen later in the movie. It was suggested to me to study a place called Willet’s Point, an industrial neighborhood near Queens, New York. Out of that research I began brainstorming how the junkyard could look, but always guided by keeping track of the various shots in the animatic. Art director José Luis gave me suggestions, notes and input throughout the design process. There’s no point in designing all kinds of extra stuff which can never be seen — in 2D animation it pays to make the design drawings as “useable” as possible for the final film, so that’s what we did. The pan drawing seen when we introduce the scrapyard is one of the versions I made as a design suggestion, and again it was based on an actual shot seen in the animatic.
I’ll note, as an aside, that I drew it all by hand; no 3D models or AI for me! Just “old-fashioned” drawing —although I do work digitally on a Cintiq. My involvement was just over a year, after which I had to move on to other assignments. So I did the early work on most of the backgrounds seen through the film. After I left there were other very talented artists in the main team, who came in and did more work on the remaining settings.
What was the toughest part of the job? What was the creative process like in making the backgrounds?
The toughest thing was learning how to draw N.Y.C. fire escapes properly! I’m joking, but the biggest challenge was probably learning to be comfortable sifting through tons of photos — literally thousands throughout the film — related to both generally N.Y.C. and also to specific scenes such the subway platforms, the junkyard (based on Willets Point), the Chrysler Building observation deck, Playland with its boardwalk and arcades at Ocean Beach (which of course was based on Coney Island), the ski hills and ski bus, the Bowling Alley (which was inspired by the one seen in The Big Lebowski) and many more. We looked at 1980s movies which had footage of New York, such as Martin Scorcese’s After Hours, for the design of the subway booth scenes.
The creative process for each setting was this: I had to first sit down patiently and “eat a giant meal” of all these photos; try to absorb the “essential nutrients” — key elements and symbols — of each location; and then, putting the photos aside, carefully follow the camera angles and story points established in the animatic. The job was to come up with a digested cartoon version perspective drawing of that location. Even a background drawing can be a sort of “caricature.” That can be very tricky because you have to think both abstractly and literally at the same time! For each setting I had to discover what exactly was the right mix of “ingredients” which could combine into a recipe which gave the right flavor to remind viewers of each place in N.Y.C. How many lampposts do we need in the shot? Where do we place them? What other elements are needed? Should it be clean, or messy? What quirky details can I add to give charm and extra character? How “dense” should the drawings be in terms of lines, or how sparse?
You have to stay calm and not be overwhelmed by all the photographic details you put into your head. Sometimes that was not easy. Out of a sea of images you have to extract the key information and come up with a way to present it clearly and recognizably to the viewer, all while keeping the “appeal,” the charm. You don’t want to end up with a dead and overly mechanical-looking drawing, which is one of the great dangers when you use a lot of photos and draw backgrounds in a realistic linear style. It would have been fatal to trace photos, so I didn’t do it. Instead you have to find the essence of the place and sift and distill it all down into the final design. So there’s never one single photograph you can simply trace as is — you have to steer each setting and design it without being too obvious that you did so. You create it in your mind, not by tracing a photo or 3D model. There were many other factors to consider as well, such as adjusting the scale of things so that the various-sized animals would fit into the doorways and streets.
Were you pleasantly surprised when such an underdog movie was nominated for an Oscar along with big studio movies this year?
I was very pleasantly surprised, yes! Not only is it a 2D film, but it is a smaller “indie” film from a pop-up studio, and from Europe, so it’s great that it was noticed. I believe that it has real heart and sincerity and audiences and reviewers have embraced that. And it’s not a cynical movie; it’s not a “dumb animal cartoon” which panders to the audience. It treats the viewer with respect and is both bittersweet and humorous. And the humor is observation-based — not cheap slapstick. The combination of all these elements has made a film which is both approachable as well as a bit surprising and unusual.
I knew from participating how hard everybody worked on it and how much love was poured in to make it as well as possible, but I still wasn’t sure of how much attention and notice it would get. It doesn’t have all the fancy effects and in-your-face approach which a movie like Spider-Verse has. So it was fascinating and gratifying to watch the “Journey of Dog and Robot Across the World” as it has received accolades and awards, culminating in an Oscar nomination. It’s a rewarding feeling and a “win” for the entire team of people who created it, every last person, no matter the final result on Oscar night.
Your earliest credit goes back to the golden days of Nelvana and the cult classic Rock & Rule. What do you remember best about that period of your career?
It was the exciting 1980s, the decade of big hair, big shoulders on jackets, big everything! A lot of energy. I was hired to work on Rock & Rule as a background designer at the age of 20 in January 1980, not that long after I’d moved from Ottawa (Canada’s capital city) to Toronto, which was “where the action was”. The movie is now regarded as a “cult classic.” For me it was like moving to the wild west a bit. There were opportunities! It was a time of rapid change and growth as I figured out how to make what had been my passion into a professional career — and learn to regard it as a business. It was difficult but I loved it. I worked on the Nelvana feature during the day and often at night went to work more at my own studio space shared with other artists.
And in a way there’s a parallel to the “pop-up” studio created to make Robot Dreams: back then, Nelvana was also a much smaller studio and it “rolled the dice” by making a feature movie. Back then the environment was very different because there were far fewer studios and “pop culture” wasn’t as much a thing as it is now. Animation was only seen in feature movies — mostly by Disney — and on TV and TV commercials. If you loved comic books and movies and wanted to draw them, as I did, it wasn’t as accepted and mainstream.
These days it’s normalized, but back then people saw it as somewhat immature and “fringe.” There was no such thing as the graphic novel industry, and you couldn’t make your own animation or comics on a computer; there was no digital art and no internet. If you created work the only way to have it seen was to go through the big gatekeepers — the publishers and studios. It’s so different now being able to self-publish in all manner of ways whether via physical print-on-demand books, making Instagram pages, or many other outlets. It’s so much more wide open now and the difference is probably hard to understand if you didn’t live through the big shift from “old-school” to digital. Nowadays, too, there are so many more people drawing and thus so much more competition for attention, for “eyeballs.”
What was your big break in animation?
My big break was getting the job at Nelvana, which was a sort of miracle in my life. I was a very broke young guy having trouble getting a foothold and establishing myself professionally. One day close to Christmas in 1979 I wandered down to the Silver Snail Comic Shop and the guy behind the counter happened to mention the news that Nelvana Animation had started a science-fiction animated feature film and were hiring people. He suggested that I’d be perfect. That one sentence of his changed my life! I realized that I had to get that job. It was my lifeline, it was hope, so I persevered through repeated interviews until finally they offered me a position. When the job was secured a mood of euphoria settled on me for several days because it was like stepping into a whole new world of learning, new friendships, and of course a steady income. I hadn’t been to the animation college like everyone else, but somehow the heavens had smiled at me and allowed me to enter the world of animation design.
You have worked on some hugely beloved and acclaimed animated shows such as Batman Beyond, Superman: The Animated Series, Samurai Jack, Duck Dodgers, Justice League and others. What would you say is the secret to a multi-faceted and long career in animation and comics?
I would say the secret is versatility and perseverance. Learn the craft as well as possible. This means recognizing that in the end you have to be your own teacher; it’s your own responsibility to ensure that you gain control and mastery of the elements of your craft. No one else can do that for you no matter what classroom you are in or whose feet you sit at! And learn as wide a range of skills as possible. It’s good to have a focus but be open to other influences and inputs. When I was a teenager I was madly obsessed with only looking at comic books and science-fiction art, but thankfully as I moved into my 20s I woke up to the beauty of all styles of art and painting ranging from European classical painters, more modern painters such as Van Gogh, and other wonderful art such as Japanese woodcuts. There is so much out there to draw from!
What kind of advice can you offer artists who would like to have a career in animation today?
My advice would be the same as that I gave myself, internally, as a teenager and later as a beginner in animation and commercial art, as I described above: establish as deep and wide a foundation as you possibly can and root that foundation in knowledge of classical drawing. This is both interesting as well as smart in terms of ensuring long-term survival for yourself. You will be pushed to specialize, especially if you’re talented and noticed early. Specializing early might perhaps help you fit into a commercial production pipeline in a studio, but narrowing down quickly into one groove might not serve your own personal needs in the long run. As we can see from this recent massive downturn in the industry — and some of us veterans have seen this more than once — putting all your eggs in one basket can be dangerous. It’s great when things are booming but when the layoffs come and you have to scramble, having a wider array of skills is a big help. Having a flexible knowledge of drawing means you can turn your hand to other things if work in one area dries up.
As part of my advice about learning to draw as well as possible (because all other art skills lock into that base skill and develop from it), you should go to Nature and study it closely. Use your eyes and mind and memory and “See, Observe, Remember,” as the teachers from the Famous Artists School used to say. Do life drawing from the model. Study three dimensional forms in real life, whether they be houses, trees, cars, anything you like. Drawing from nature will help you develop your own honest style because you’ve started at the source of everything. Copying the styles of current cartoonists can be useful but can hamper you if you do it too early. In the end what seems to the student like “the long way around” — studying from nature —is actually the real shortcut, the real secret!
And don’t skip learning perspective drawing and background drawing. I see many young artists, especially in animation, who just draw figures. They might be good at this, or even excellent, but they often avoid tackling perspective drawing or do a very basic version of it. This hampers them. It’s an obstacle to reaching the goal that was taught to artists and illustrators of earlier times: become a complete picture maker. Learn to compose entire scenes — not just isolated elements and cute figures in poses. Studying great art of all types and styles from the past is be a great aid in all of this.
Another piece of advice is to take advantage of the internet. Don’t only spend time on social media but use the internet to learn all about past great cartoonists and art history. I’ll stop there but for those interested in hearing more of my ideas about art technique and learning I made an Instagram page devoted to this, @artprinciples.
See more of Paul Rivoche’s work on his website, rocketfiction.com, and Instagram pages: @rocketfiction, @windelfworld (fantasy project), @linearkingdoms (cartoons & coloring) and the above-mentioned @artprinciples.
