Nate Ragland

The 1839 scroll “Six Jewel River” by Sakai Ōho has a lot in common with the style and mood of anime. You can see similarities in the way the artist uses clean, delicate lines to define the figures and nature kind of like how anime relies on strong line work to highlight characters and movement. The scroll also has a peaceful, emotional vibe, using nature scenes like flowing rivers and seasonal plants to set a reflective tone. That’s something anime often does too, especially in slower-paced or romantic scenes. The soft, natural colors (like blues, greens, and earth tones) are also very common in alot of anime backgrounds, which tend to be gentle and atmospheric rather than super bright.

Disney and other major studios began closing their 2D animation divisions in the late 1990s and early 2000s largely due to shifting audience tastes and the success of 3D animation. The turning point came with Pixar’s Toy Story (1995), the first fully computer-animated feature film, which was both a critical and commercial success. Following, 3D films like Shrek (2001) and Finding Nemo (2003) dominated box offices, while traditionally animated films like Treasure Planet (2002) and Home on the Range (2004) were box-offices bombs. Studios saw 3D as more modern, cost-effective in the long term, and easier to market to global audiences and and audiences made it clear that that is what they wanted to see. From a business perspective, the move made sense at the time. 3D films were consistently more profitable and perceived as cutting-edge. But from an artistic and cultural standpoint, many argue it was a loss. The closure of 2D departments meant fewer opportunities for hand-drawn animators and a narrowing of visual storytelling styles. It also sent the message that traditional animation was “obsolete,” which discouraged its growth in mainstream cinema, but it really hard to gauge what casual audiences really want to see Despite this, 2D animation has not died it still used heavily behind the scenes at Disney, with storyboard and concept art, Japan has remained a global leader in 2D animation through anime and indie and international films like Klaus and Wolfwalkers use hand-drawn techniques with modern tools to stunning effect.

Product placement is still very much alive in today’s media, even if it’s not always as in-your-face as it was during the 1980s cartoon boom. In animated TV shows today, especially those aimed at older audiences or streaming platforms, you’ll sometimes see real-world brands subtly worked into the background—like characters using iPhones, drinking Starbucks, or scrolling through Instagram lookalikes—but they’re often altered just enough to avoid direct branding unless there’s a sponsorship. One rect example is in Rick and Morty, which partnered with Wendy’s in a full-blown campaign—Wendy’s even changed the voice of its drive-thru to match the show’s characters during a limited-time event, and the show featured food-themed episodes that aligned with the promotion. Similarly, The Lego Movie and its spinoffs are basically full-length product showcases, but cleverly written so they feel more like actual films than just ads.

Jiří Trnka’s The Hand (Ruka, 1965) was seen as subversive by the Czechoslovak communist government because it was a thinly veiled critique of authoritarian control and censorship. The film tells the story of a simple artist who just wants to create his own work, but a giant hand—representing power and authority—constantly pressures him to sculpt what it demands. As the hand’s tactics escalate from persuasion to force, the artist is ultimately destroyed, and his death is repackaged as a state-approved tribute. For the communist government, the message was unmistakable. The film was a reflection of what many artists in Czechoslovakia were experiencing—constant interference, ideological restrictions, and the looming threat of punishment if they didn’t conform. The fact that Trnka, an internationally respected animator, was making this statement made it even more dangerous in the eyes of the authorities. They couldn’t allow a film that so clearly criticized the system to circulate, so they banned it.

Private Snafu – Fighting Tools uses humor in a few different ways to get its point across, mainly through voice, drawing, movement, and story. The exaggerated, sarcastic narration mocks Snafu’s mistakes, making the lesson more memorable while keeping it entertaining. The animation itself is cartoonish and over-the-top, with Snafu’s clueless expressions and dramatic failures adding to the comedy. Slapstick plays a big role too with his carelessness with his weapons leads to exaggerated mishaps. The story follows a simple but effective setup: Snafu neglects his weapons, and when the time comes to use them, they fail him completely.

Steamboat Willie uses synchronized sound to enhance the animation and emphasize actions. Each movement is carefully matched with rhythmic sound effects, creating a seamless blend of audio and visuals. For instance, when Mickey Mouse plays music using various objects and animals aboard the steamboat, the sounds are precisely timed to correspond with his actions, reinforcing the playful and energetic tone of the film. Exaggerated sound effects, such as the ship’s whistle and the squeaking of livestock, further contribute to the film’s comedic and dynamic nature. The film’s use of sound reveals important character traits. Mickey’s inventive and mischievous personality is highlighted through his playful engagement with sound-producing objects.