Walking

Walking is a fascinating piece of experimental animation from Canada that came out in 1968. Directed by Ryan Larkin, a visionary in the craft of animation, the film explores the mundane activity of walking and turns it into a captivating dance of human motion. This 5-minute short film finds poetry in the everyday routine, a testament to Larkin's ability to bring depth and dimension to the most ordinary activities.

The film approach was awe-inspiring for its time; it made use of rotoscoping, an animation technique that involves tracing over footages frame by frame to create a realist depiction of human movement, and this results in sequences with somewhat surreal fluidity. While rotoscoping had been used before, the way Larkin applied the technique was revolutionary, deepening the emotional resonance of the animations and bringing them to life in an incredibly lifelike way.

A crucial element of Walking is its use of music. The soundtrack was arranged by Larkin himself, which mostly consists of purely instrumental, psychedelic and bluesy rock more typical of the late 60s. This film was indeed a product of its era, and there is a palpable sense of the context and culture from which it sprung. The sounds build on the motion of the walking figures, crafting a beautiful audio-visual symphony that keeps the audience thoroughly engaged.

The film begins with individual figures strolling across a blank canvas. These figures appear to be from all walks of life – young, old, male, female, thin, or more bulky. The animation provided fascinating insight into each character’s personality based on their walking style. The sheer variety of the characters also contributes to the bigger idea of universality projected in the movie - that among all our differences and uniqueness, there's comfort to be found in shared human experiences.

As the film progresses, the movements start to intermingle and overlap until we see multiple characters on screen in a mesmerizing flow of motion. The figures’ paths weave in and out, intersecting with each other but never colliding. It’s a beautiful metaphor on our collective journey, underlining the harmony that exists in the chaotic dance of life.

Larkin's artistry is not just in the execution of the animation, but also in the conceptual underpinning. The act of walking is a universal, shared human experience, and by focusing on this, Larkin gives us an insight into the complexities and idiosyncrasies within it. Watching Walking feels both familiar and strange due to the blend of normality and the unexpected.

Walking shines for its lack of narrative, as it doesn't tell a traditional story with a beginning, middle, and end. Instead, it invites the audience to draw their interpretations and find their own stories in the art. The film is more about the process and the experience than about a specific narrative. The absence of dialogue or narrations allows viewers to be wholly immersed in the visuals and the music, creating a meditative effect.

In summary, Walking is a visionary piece of animation that celebrates the human form in motion. It captures the grace, fluidity, and individuality inherent in the simple act of walking and results in the creation of a truly mesmerizing experience. Despite being more than five decades old, the film's innovative animation technique and thoughtful vision continue to inspire and impact not just animators, but anyone who appreciates the synthesis of visuals and music into something universally appealing.

Walking remarks on its era while also becoming a timeless tribute to a shared human experience. This film illustrates that it does not take grandeur or spectacle to create something profound and poetic. Sometimes, all you need is a perfect blend of seemingly mundane activity and the splendid creative insight brought forth by a visionary artist. Walking is, without a doubt, as thought-provoking as it is visually striking.