2023 Oscar-Nominated Short Films – Animation

The Academy's disdain for animation is a matter of record, sniffily referred to as "kids' stuff" by Oscar hosts who would run screaming if presented with the scatological eschatology of a Mad God. But that disdain seems to drop a bit when it comes to the animated shorts, where the depth and width of the art form – both in style and content – is often reflected in the nominee list. It is, it seems, the one place where cartoons are allowed to be for adults.

Now, you definitely have to be mature (no giggling!) when the title of the South by Southwest 2022 Special Jury Prize-winning “My Year of Dicks” is announced as a nominee. Adapted from former Austinite and Ralph Breaks the Internet scriptwriter Pamela Ribon’s 2017 memoir, Notes to Boys: And Other Things I Shouldn't Share in Public, it recounts her hapless quest to find the perfect boy for the perfect first time. Its confessional tone finessed in her online diary Squishy, “My Year in Dicks” isn’t shy about its intent. Fifteen-year-old Pam is hellbent on not being a virgin at 16, and her stumbles and awkward fumbling through five prospective deflowerings are caught in five chapters, each given a distinctive style, from Linklater-esque verité to early Nineties MTV looseness through hyper-kawaii and even some Junji Ito for that hormonal nightmare, all told with comedic confessional vim.

By contrast, "An Ostrich Told Me the World Is Fake and I Think I Believe It" is playful in a much more meta, less emotionally earnest way. Borrowing heavily stylistically from Aardman Animations' approach to stop-motion, director Lachlan Pendragon injects the paranoia of simulation theory – that is, the idea that the world is fake, that whole glitch-in-the-matrix deal. Only this time, office drone Neil (voiced by Pendragon) has solid evidence that there may be higher forces at play: After all, why else would he be able to take off his own face? Plus, there's what that talking ostrich told him. Metaphysical hilarity ensues by beginning with a reversal: Stop-motion mavericks Laika (the Oscar-snubbed studio behind Kubo and the Two Strings) end their films with a behind-the-scenes look at the intensive labor that goes into stop-motion, whereas Pendragon opens with the same blurred sensation of movement, putting the audience into the god slot. That he then makes the viewer empathize with the Job-esque puppet is quite an achievement.

Feelings are at the core of the two (seemingly mandatory) wordless contenders, "The Flying Sailor" and "Ice Merchants." The former uses a collage effect to recount the folktale about the sailor who survived the catastrophic Halifax Explosion of 1917, the latter a quiet and metaphorical piece about a father and son who live atop a mountain. Both are pretty and thought-provoking, both intended to inspire a degree of emotional introspection about mortality and isolation, respectively; moreover, both seem to represent the kind of artsy, thoughtful animated short that appeals to Academy voters, like New Yorker short stories given illustrated life.

Among all these shorts that are either visually or thematically mostly aimed at adults, it's gorgeous animated fable "The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse" that truly opens the selection up to all ages. "So much beauty we need to look after," says the mole wisely in this charming winter-set tale of a young boy who befriends the gentleman in black, a trundling little voice of wisdom even if he can't see too far and is fixated on cake. Working with Annecy International Animated Film Festival-lauded animator Peter Baynton on adapting his own children's book, writer and illustrator Charlie Mackesy keeps the computer animation loyal to his pen-and-ink stylings. Profoundly influenced by great British children's authors like A. A. Milne and John Masefield (most especially their drollness, curiosity, and wistfulness), Mackesy brings the four characters together in an unlikely friendship that always feels natural and, yes, magical. The plot is simple (like a less stodgy The Little Prince), and the script is often little more than a series of aphorisms, but in its kindness and simple wisdom, "The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse" proves that animation truly is for everyone. Including adults.