Category: Horrific

Phil Tippett’s Mad God is inspirational, certainly not due to its subject matter, but because of the context surrounding its creation. Tippett, a virtuoso of stop-motion animation and creature design, revisited designs built over three decades to make this uncompromising, macabre meditation. The project feels like an artifact unearthed from a time capsule, dusted off to unveil a wholly unique aesthetic altogether, one that invites us to appreciate the depraved and the bizarre. 

The film follows an anonymous assassin as he descends deeper into a bleak hell-scape, stunningly crafted out of practical sets and ignited into existence using stop-motion techniques. As the protagonist wades through the landscape of blood, pus, grime, and murk, we truly marvel at what practical effects can accomplish in this genre, bringing to life the gory and the grotesque in ways that CGI cannot. Tippet brings the best type of world-building to his project—the kind where there is no map or compass, and worlds seem to exist within worlds, like a living, breathing fractal artwork. Completely devoid of the spatial awareness we naturally crave, it’s up to the dark recesses of our minds to make meaning out of every bump in the night and to try to understand the laws that govern this peculiar land.

Each frame of Mad God is an entire world in itself—detailed, grueling, and strange. Every moment is so visually captivating that attention shifts quickly, creating a viewing experience that leaves us remarkably arrested in the present moment. Like a twisted haunted house, there’s no time to fully process what you’ve just seen; before you know it, you’re compelled to move to the next room, where another horror awaits. This makes piecing together a linear narrative an impossibility, but that’s okay because there isn’t one to be had anyway. Strange creatures inhabit every scene. Some are slaves to others. Some are eaten by others. Some are killed by others for ritual or sport. We witness life for a moment, then death for a moment, and then ultimately move to the next frame, leaving these monsters in the abyss.

Tippet somehow creates an ecosystem where each object, living or not, is crafted with such care and intention, yet is so utterly disposable at the same time. This dichotomy reflects a point that could be made about our own existence, offering some thought-provoking, existential musings of a nihilistic variety. While Tippet is the mad god of his own weird world, he might argue that our god is just as mad. Even in its abstractness, the film tells a tale of life and death, growth and destruction, depicting the human race negatively—as ill-fated, destined to repeat the same mistakes of war, pollution, and consumerism over and over. Cynical, sure, so how does it manage to be so moving? For the creative in all of us, it stirs something deep within. There is inherent beauty in listening to a singer sing or watching a dancer dance. Whatever your thing is, this artistic achievement inspires you to go do it. Phil Tippet’s thing is bringing creatures to life through stop-motion animation, and Mad God exists as a rare gift—the gift of a person creating exactly what they were meant to in this life.

How far would you go for love? For those who currently have someone they’re enamored with, it may be easy for them to say that they’ll go to great lengths. However, how far would you go for someone you know very little about? Love is a complicated emotion and it can make people do crazy things. Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 horror film, The Birds explores these complexities of love by drawing parallels between the brash behavior of birds and the impulsivity of human relationships. The visual symbolism, carefully crafted dialogue, and natural sound tell a story of the chaos that ensued amidst an avian attack in the 1960s, in a manner that resonates with modern audiences.

The film opens in San Francisco, where gulls are flying around as audiences are introduced to Melanie Daniels, who is scurrying into a bird shop. Her plan is to get a myna bird but things go awry when she meets Mitch Brenner, who recalls her involvement in a court case, and he decides to play a prank on her. Melanie is initially irked by his quick judgment of her, but she is quickly smitten and plans a trip to Bodega Bay to secretly deliver a pair of lovebirds that he wanted for his sister Cathy. The lovebirds become such a pivotal motif throughout the film as they become a symbol of resistance because they stick together amidst all the calamity that unfolds. Melanie is caught in the act of delivering the birds as a gull begins pecking at her when she travels away from Mitch’s home. Interestingly, this isn’t the first time Melanie will be jabbed at, as the town folks are naturally curious about her visit to Mitch and begin to flock over her sudden appearance in their town. Drawing these parallels between the instinctive habits of birds and the curiosity of humans in the affairs of love really sets up the story of what happens when both worlds collide. 

As the story continues, Melanie encounters an array of different characters and the conversions that she has with them gives further insight to their bird-like qualities. For instance, she meets Annie Hayworth, a school teacher who is living a life on her own after a romantic relationship with Mitch ended abruptly because his mother, Lydia Brenner disapproved. Annie tells Melanie that ironically, she and Mitch’s mother became friends now that she “is no longer a threat” to her son. This further explores the bird-like behavior in the affairs of love as the teacher is viewed as a predator, whom Lydia believed would disrupt the stability of her nest. When Melanie finally meets Mitch’s mother, the parallels to avian activity continue as they have a heart to heart. Lydia explains that her family is a “very good reason for getting out of bed”, which emphasizes her devotion to it, much like a mother bird cares for her chicks. The dialogue that the characters exchange with Melanie reinforce the connection between the all consuming nature of human relationships and the predatory and protective habits of birds.

Another intriguing aspect of the film is that it lacks a score and relies on ambient sound to explore the similarities between the aggression of birds and the complexities of humans in the affairs of love. In one key moment, Melanie and Mitch take refuge in a Bodega Bay diner when birds begin to swarm the area. The sounds of the wings flapping and screeching fills the scene and makes those hiding in the diner feel cornered and violated. Interestingly, this is similar to the events that unfold inside the diner where the town’s people verbally target Melanie and blame her for the attack. The bird’s screeches fill the ambience much like the insults envelope Melanie and Mitch. During perhaps the tensest moment of the film, Melanie, Mitch and his family try to escape their home that is surrounded by birds. As the avians’ chirping creates an eerie mood, Cathay’s lovebirds remain silent, drawing perhaps the biggest parallel to human nature. It provides commentary on the fact that much like the birds, humans are invasive in other’s romantic affairs, making them, not the lovers, the loudest disruptors of the peace. 

The Birds is a unique film that succeeds in exploring the horrors of an avian attack and comparing it to people’s intricate behavior when dealing with matters of love. With its strong symbolism, Hitchcock highlights how the various types of birds represent aspects of human nature such as attraction and curiosity. The dialogue also gives insight to the people’s bird-like qualities when it comes to defending loved one’s because it uses the conversations to shed light on the characters’ protective nature over their flock. The film’s lack of a score solidifies the comparison because just as the twittering of the birds casts an unsettling feeling amongst the town, unsolicited opinions of outsiders may taint the tranquility between a couple.

Despite being released over 60 years ago, The Birds remains relevant because humans are still affected by the convoluted affairs of love, and much like nettlesome birds, it is not something that one day will spontaneously fly away.