#Visual Storytelling

[robotlyra]

Since we keep getting "live action" CGI remakes of already perfectly adequate animated movies, and because people need to understand that animation is a medium and not a genre, I have prepared this primer about the importance of Visual Language for Conveying Information.

Can you tell what the personalities of these two mice are?

Can you tell now?

Which of these two tigers feels safer to be around?

Which of these three dogs is the funniest one?

If you can answer these questions, then you already have experience with the idea of visual language and stylistic choices being used to impart narrative meaning. If you can understand why these choices were made to impart meaning, then you can understand why animation is a medium for telling stories that has its own inherent value, and is not merely a "placeholder" for the eventual implementation of photorealistic presentation (aka "Live Action" CGI). Animation does not need to be "corrected" or "legitimized" by remaking it into the most representational simulation of observable reality.

[cuda-cuda]

[artist-issues]

I’ve only seen it once so forgive me for not saying more—

—but my favorite sequence is by far the part where ROZ is watching Brightbill finally take flight, and she looks up to try and see him as he gets farther away, but then her view of Brightbill is blocked by the pop-up screen saying “Task Complete.”

And she has to rush after him to get her final look, because of that. Because the Task was getting in the way of her seeing him.

[colleybri]

Visual storytelling at its best

Cassian started out as a traumatised and selfish young man who loved a select few. Sometimes he made bad choices, all too often others chose for him. Slowly, the circle of people he cares about expands. He also finds hope in the midst of loss and conflict and wants to make a Home with the love of his life.

But that was never meant for him.

Sometimes the decisions others make for us help shape our path in life, whether we like it or not.

The Messenger is finally where he needs to be. The centre of the rebellion. In this beautiful shot – the symbol.

Bix chose the Rebellion and in doing that put the Messenger back on the path to where he needs to be.

[para-droid]

Analytics - Jonathan Ching

[fervi-g]

Castle in the Sky (1986) dir. Hayao Miyazaki

[luvinaeverdene]

Persepolis (2007) Directed by Marjane Satrapi & Vincent Paronnaud

[diana-andraste]

West Berlin, Libuše Jarcovjáková, 1985-90

"The confusion, not always knowing if I was outside or inside of the cage. The wall inside my soul – loneliness, the lack of warm human contacts, isolation." - L.J.

[greatwyrmgold]

I like how this tea party is clearly divided into sections—the neat section with Kris and Ralsei, and the messy section with Susie and Gerson. It emphasizes that Susie has more in common with the crazy old tortoise than it seems at first glance.

(The splash of Susie Pink in his hair doesn't hurt.)

[mythboundcal]

A Hand Left Ungloved Spy x Family Fanfic (Twilight & Yor) by MythboundCal

The mission is over.

The wine is half-drunk.

The silence is domestic—not tense, not forced. Just… unfamiliar.

Twilight (Loid, tonight) sits on the edge of the sofa, gloved hands resting in his lap. Yor stands in the kitchen, arms crossed loosely, like she’s remembering how to stay in her own body.

The clock ticks.

And then— “I’m not used to this,” she says quietly.

Loid looks up. “To what?”

Her eyes flick to his hands. Still gloved. Still tidy. Still perfectly rehearsed.

“You don’t flinch when I reach for you anymore,” she murmurs.

He doesn’t move.

Not because he’s cold. But because he’s unsure whether she means it as a compliment… or a concern.

She steps closer. Her voice lowers—not for secrecy, but softness.

“I notice things,” she says. “Even when I pretend I don’t.”

The lights buzz faintly. The city outside exhales.

Loid takes off one glove.

Just one. Slowly.

And places his hand, bare and warm, on the table between them.

“I flinched because I’m not used to kindness,” he says.

Yor nods. Then, after a moment, sets her hand beside his. She doesn’t touch. Not yet.

“That makes two of us.”

Another silence. But this one settles.

Loid studies her fingers—scarred in places, elegant in others. Hands that could kill. Hands that have saved. Hands that, right now, tremble just a little.

“I’m not a good man,” he says.

She smiles. Sad. Honest.

“Neither am I.”

Their hands touch. Lightly. Not a promise. Not yet.

Just… honesty. Finally.

And somewhere upstairs, Anya stirs in her sleep—smiling, probably—without knowing why.

[wuyuexin]

They do not mourn. They remember. The sun may fall, but its warmth returns in silence. This fanart is a quiet farewell to those who returned to the Tao—not in sorrow, but in silence.

[cuda-cuda]

[vibe-stash]

Reflections in Satoshi Kon's Paprika (2006)

[rosemaryprosser]

waiting for the wind (2025)

[morphine-king]

Persepolis (2007) – Vincent Paronnaud, Marjane Satrapi