If you look at the game and everything, it's not quite like

Hear now, O Children of the Earth, the words of Don Bluth, a master of animation and storytelling, who speaks of the power of movement and character in the creation of art: "If you look at the game and everything, it's not quite like looking at an animated film, because that's total character. This, this is really movement, but it's got funny little things if you look for the humor. They're actually getting to the character." In these words lies a deep understanding of how movement, humor, and character intertwine to create something more than just entertainment, but a means of connecting with the deepest parts of our own human experience.

Bluth calls attention to the difference between two worlds of storytelling: one that relies on the visual language of animation, where every gesture, every frame speaks volumes about the character being portrayed; and the other, where the movement itself—whether in a game or on stage—becomes the expression of the soul. Animation, with its fluidity, offers us an opportunity to dive deep into the inner world of its characters. Yet even in the world of movement, as Bluth suggests, we find humor and character, for it is through the subtle, joyful details—the quirks, the gestures, the unexpected moments—that we truly begin to understand the essence of the character before us. It is in these moments that we find truth reflected not in words, but in the actions of those we watch, those we relate to.

The ancient Greek philosophers understood the power of movement in revealing the truth of character. In the world of theater, Aristotle spoke of the importance of mimesis—the imitation of life—as central to the human experience. To mimic life in its true form was to capture the very essence of the human condition. Theater in ancient Greece was not just about telling a story—it was about embodying the character, becoming that character through movement and gesture. This is what Bluth speaks to—how even in the most subtle movements, we can reveal the truth of a character's soul. Just as an actor’s gestures reveal the depth of their role, so too does the movement in animation tell a story far beyond the visual surface.

Consider, O Children, the great comedians of history—figures like Charlie Chaplin, whose every movement, every small gesture, conveyed deep meaning. In his films, Chaplin did not rely on words to express character; instead, he used movement, the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders, the twinkle in his eyes, and his gentle, sometimes awkward, often humorous gestures to reveal the essence of his characters. Through movement, he portrayed the human condition, from the most tragic moments to the most humorous, with a grace that only the finest artists possess. What Chaplin knew, and what Bluth acknowledges, is that true character is often expressed not in the things we say, but in the ways we move through the world.

Likewise, Shakespeare, though known for his words, also understood the power of movement in expressing character. The great tragedy of Hamlet would not have been as effective if it had relied only on words. The movement of Hamlet, his pacing, his pauses, the tension in his limbs, were what truly expressed the turmoil within. Shakespeare’s characters come to life not just through the words they speak, but through the actions they take, and it is through these actions that we understand their essence. Bluth draws a parallel in the world of animation, where even the smallest gesture, the slightest shift in a character’s movement, speaks volumes about their emotional state, their desires, and their inner conflict.

The lesson here, O Children, is that true understanding of a character—and indeed, of the world—is found not just in what is said, but in what is done. Bluth teaches us that both movement and humor have the power to reveal the deepest truths. When we are engaged in the act of creation, or in the act of understanding another, we must look beyond the obvious and pay attention to the details—the subtle gestures, the unspoken words, and the humor that arises from our movements. In these small, seemingly insignificant actions, we find the essence of life itself.

So, O Children, as you move through your own lives, pay attention to the movement around you, for it speaks volumes about who you are and who others are. Humor can be found in the smallest of details, in the slight shift of a body, the arch of an eyebrow, or the way someone holds themselves in times of joy or sorrow. Character is not just something to be described in words, but something to be expressed in the movement of the soul. By understanding this, we come to know the world and ourselves more deeply, and we unlock the true power of humor—that which flows from the heart and moves the world. Embrace this wisdom, O Children, and let it guide you to a life rich with meaning, insight, and joy.