My favourite characterisation of Spark is when most of the time he’s the standard dopey meme loving fuck who dabs and acts immature etc but when something serious happens he absolutely wrecks shit, then goes straight back to memeing five minutes later
morseapple-deactivated20200920 asked: ah right the one i was thinking of was were the main kid dressed in orange and had some sort of magic glitch bracer
to save time? it was to save MONEY. back in what we now call the “Disney Dark Ages” they did not have the funds to be able to create everything from scratch, so scenes, character models, backgrounds, etc would be xeroxed. traditional animation is EXPENSIVE. a lot of original cels do not exist anymore because they had to use the cel sheets over and over!
a big reason why people shit on Frozen using the same design on three different characters and not for xeroxing back in the day is because Disney, in this day and age, as one of the wealthiest corporations in the world, ABSOLUTELY has the funds to not need to re-use the same model over and over.
TheAristocats and The Jungle Book had a budget of $4 million. Robin Hood’s budget was 1.5 million. The Rescuers was a measly 1.2 million.
The budget for Frozen was $150 million. It made $1,263,716,698 at the box office. Disney, in 2014, with all it’s money and skilled employees, has NO excuse for re-using designs.
Robin Hood may have atrocious animation, but it’s better written than Frozen.
Concept: a small child whose imaginary friend is Superman. He talks to “Superman” all the time, completely unaware that Clark can in fact hear everything he’s saying. The child and associated adults are infinitely surprised when reply letters from Superman start appearing in their mailbox
When Allie was four, everyone thought it was cute. Oh, that’s so adorable, they all said. Oh, look at her, with Superman. How darling. How sweet.
Of course, when Allie was six, everyone thought her play should be girlier. But that’s another story.
Now, Allie is nine, and everyone thinks she’s too old for an imaginary friend. They all think something is wrong with her, and her parents are getting worried. Why won’t she make any real friends? they wonder. Does she even try?
The truth is, Allie does try. But she doesn’t want to tell her parents that no one at school likes her. She’s a loser there, no way does she want to bring that home with her. She knows her parents won’t think badly of her if she’s not popular, but grown ups can be just as mean as the bullies that are still Allie’s age, and she doesn’t want her parents’ acquaintances (a-c-q-u-a-i-n-t-a-n-c-e-s, what is that stupid extra c for?) gossiping about her to them and making them worry even more.
So Allie still talks to “Superman”. She knows he’s not real, but she’ll still insist he is to anybody who tries to tell her otherwise. On principle (p-r-i-n-c-i-p-l-e, not p-r-i-n-c-i-p-a-l), because she knows they’re just trying to be mean. The real Superman obviously has better things to do than listen to her, but sometimes she pretends he does, and that he likes her. She can think that if she wants, because there’s no way to prove he doesn’t unless if you just asked him, and nobody can just ask Superman something except Lois Lane. So there.
