In America, anvils were falling.
A coyote strapped on Acme
rocket skates. A slobbering
duck kept getting his beak
blasted off and, sadly for
him, it may actually have
been wabbit season. It was
quieter here in 1954, when
a frustrated Czech animator
went for an evening walk in
the woods searching for his
own blockbuster of a cartoon
character.
"It was already dark,"
the animator, Zdenek Miler,
now 83, remembers. "It
was kind of hard to see. I
tripped over something and
I fell. I turned around to
see what I fell on. It was
a moles burrow. I said, Heres
a good idea. "
It took three months of artistic
tweaking to turn the real
animals blind face into Krtek,
or Little Mole. Over nearly
five decades, Krtek starred
in 62 short animated films
for children that thrived
despite the complete absence
of exploding cigars. Krtek
outsells Disney here,
his anatomically incorrect
eyes poking out from book
bags, puzzles and pillow cases
everywhere.
He is shown around the world,
and is especially popular
in Germany and Japan. (A 20-something
Iraqi recently turned to goo
when he spotted a foreigner
in Baghdad wearing a Krtek
T-shirt).
But Krtek never caught on
in the United States. Ask
why of Mr. Miler (pronounced
Miler), or his colleagues
in the renowned world of Czech
animation, and they say Krtek
may be just too slow for the
frantic land of the Cartoon
Network. Krtek films are,
in fact, slow, but also lyrical
and so hypnotically distinct
that they can feel less like
watching movies than climbing
into another humans head.
That would be Mr. Milers.
"Its an alternate universe,
like all of the best animated
stuff is," Michael Medved,
the film critic, who has tried
for years to stoke a Krtek
following in America, said
in a telephone interview.
"But its an alternate
universe that feels astonishingly
refreshing and kind."
Mr. Medved added, "I
have always considered Miler
to be perhaps the greatest
living animator."
Now feeble from age and Lyme
disease, but the vision of
a kindly old man, Mr. Miler
is doing something else that
few of his American counterparts
would dream of: despite offers,
Mr. Miler is refusing to sell
off the rights to Krtek --
similar, in a smaller way,
to if Disney
studios had folded when Walt
Disney died in 1966. The last
Krtek film was made in 2002.
What may be the last Krtek
book -- five million have
been sold -- comes out this
month.
"If I sold Krtek,"
he said, "it would be
like I killed him."
The truth is that the association
between Krtek and his creator,
who meticulously oversaw every
frame of his hand-drawn films,
may be a little too close
to put up for sale.
"You should be able
to say it very simply: You
created yourself," said
his wife of 46 years, Emilie,
with some combination of love
and impatience, in their modest
home in Prague. She then walked
out of the room.
"My wife is allergic
to it, because for everyone
who comes I have to tell the
story of how I created Krtek,"
Mr. Miler explained before
recounting his "supernatural"
stumble over the mole burrow
in 1954. But near the end
of an interview, kept to an
hour so as not to tire him,
he
conceded that she was right.
"It took me a long time
to realize it, but when I
draw Krtek I am drawing myself,"
he said. "What I mean
is that Krtek is the ideal
that should be me. But I cant
meet that ideal."
Born in 1921 in Kladno, just
west of Prague, Mr. Miler
began his work as an animator
while Czechoslovakia was still
under Nazi occupation. After
the war he worked as an animator
on the first films of Jiri
Trnka, the guru of Czech animators.
In 1948 he made his first
film, "The Millionaire
Who Stole the Sun," still
highly regarded today.
In 1954, while working at
Barrandov Studios here, he
was assigned to make a film
for children showing how linen
is made. He puzzled, feeling
that a fairly dull subject
needed to be livened up by
a compelling character. That
turned out to be Krtek. Without
the budgets of the
American animation studios
that Mr. Miler admired so
much -- Disneys "Snow
White," he said, is "unbelievable"
-- the first Krtek film took
one and a half.
In it, Krtek makes a pair
of linen overalls, with help
from a frog who soaks the
flax, spiders who spin the
yarn, ants who weave the cloth,
a crawfish who cuts the fabric.
Krtek changed slightly over
time, but the basics were
there: the forest, other animals,
a problem Krtek solves
entertainingly.
Zdenka Deitch, head of the
Barrandov animation studio,
who worked on the first film,
said Krtek was considered
a peculiarity amid the high-art
production of Czech animation
at the time.
"When I was working
on this first film, I didnt
get his idea," she said.
But when it was finished,
she said, "it was a very
charming film." It won
a first prize in the Venice
Film Festival in 1957.
This first movie was the
only one in which Krtek actually
spoke. The rest were pantomime,
apart from a few Czech words
and the recorded giggles of
his daughters. That turned
out to be convenient for both
Krtek and Mr. Miler: The films
sold easily around the world,
in 85
countries, and Krteks adventures
became a popular export for
the Communist government.
"Krtek was very important
to the regime because it earned
them foreign currency,"
said Mr. Miler, who did well,
too, when capitalism came
in 1989 and opened the door
to Krtek merchandise.
Mr. Miler said he steered
clear of politics, but as
Krtek became his lifes work,
the films did not shut out
the real world, before or
after the fall of Communism.
Bureaucrats were poked fun
at. He lamented the
destruction of the environment.
He showed a rabbit graphically
giving birth. One film had
Krtek traveling the world,
stunned at an American moles
superior burrowing technology.
But it was always gentle,
like the man.
"Hes different,"
Ms. Deitch said. "Hes
quiet. He has a few friends.
And otherwise he is living
some kind of lonesome life
with the characters that he
drew. His whole life was to
draw something nice."
At the twilight of his career
-- and with little chance
of any new Krtek adventures
-- Mr. Miler seems only to
wish that Krtek had found
an audience in America. In
the mid-1990s, a collection
of the films was released
there and praised by fans
like Mr. Medved. But there
never was
a market, baffling to fans
who admire Krtek for his sweetness
without saccharine.
"Pretty much the whole
world knows Krtek," Mr.
Miler said. "America,
which is usually first in
everything, is last in this."
"I always look at American
history," he said, "and
it is a very hard one. People
came. They conquered a continent.
They suffered hardships, and
that hardship is reflected
in its movies. I look at children
there and think what they
are watching is a reflection
of that hardness. If you look
at America, it is epic. Whereas
here, it is more poetic. I
feel here there is more lyricism."
par Ian Fisher
© 6/3/2004 The New York Times
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