I returned to the Walt Disney Studio
in the early 1970s after a brief dalliance with my own production company.
Not surprisingly, running my own shop proved to be a rather daunting task, and
the thought of steady work at the drawing board didn’t seem all that bad. Plus
word was out that there were opportunities galore for young artists aspiring to
be animators. I thought I would be welcomed, having already logged ten years as
an assistant in Disney’s animation department. However, it turns out I was
wrong.
One afternoon, Disney veteran Art
Stevens stopped me as I made my way down the hallway of A-Wing. “Why aren’t you
in the animation training class,” he inquired. I informed Stevens that the studio was looking for young animators, and because of my age I wasn’t able to apply for the class.
I was 37.
This should have been a wake up call
for everybody in this crazy business. When you’re deemed “over the hill” before
you reach the age of forty, you know things are truly out of whack.
Not only is he a good artist, he’s also potty trained
From that day on, I thought
differently about my career and the careers of my colleagues. It was as though
we had all been stamped with an “expiration date.” Unlike the old guys of a
generation past, our “shelf life” as animation professionals was clearly
limited, and the wise industry pro had better be aware of that fact. No matter
your skill level, talent or experience, you will one day be replaced by a
younger, less experienced but more cost effective worker. As mob bosses
might be inclined to say, “It’s nothing personal. It’s just business.”
Let’s not bag on the
cartoon business alone. This practice of shedding older workers for
younger ones is now part and parcel of corporate America. After all, younger
workers cost the company less, and in today’s profit-motivated world that’s
really all that matters. Before I spin off on a tirade against our obsession
with profit and greed, I’d better get back to our little world of fairies and
bunny rabbits.
When we came into this business as
kids many years ago, we remembered the bosses who occupied the corner office
down the hall. They were the “old farts” that had paid their dues, and were now
enjoying what they had earned. These were the guys and gals who had toiled in
the ranks for decades. They were knowledgeable and experienced, and the studio
considered them an asset. We took
comfort in knowing that if we worked long enough and hard enough, that future
would one day be ours. Boy, were we wrong.
We awoke one day to realize our
new bosses could easily have been our children. Eager, young hotshots with
business degrees replaced the experienced old codgers who once ran the studios.
Fresh from the Harvard Business School and Stanford, it mattered little that
they knew nothing about the businesses they were supposed to run. After all,
who says knowledge is a requirement for success? Besides, all these young kids
just out of school were a helluva lot smarter than we were. I know. They told
me so.
Your kids are older than this guy
I have friends and colleagues who
have either lost their jobs, or are about to. I understand their confusion and
concern as they wonder what’s going to happen next. Most had successful careers
that were hard earned. Their portfolios are impressive, and their résumés,
lengthy. Their demo reels showcase years of experience, and on occasion, the
company even lauds their accomplishments.
Of course, there’s always
retirement. It’s a graceful exit from the business, and an option many are
taking. That is, assuming they can afford to retire.
Finally, this is not a tirade
against the young, because I’ve had the opportunity to work with many an
aspiring young animation artist. I’ve enjoyed welcoming them into our business,
and they’re the ones who will carry on after we’re gone.
Today, I look back on my Disney
animation rejection with amusement. I was “thirty something” and already over
the hill. Of course, the studios will continue to hire kids because they’re
dumb, and better yet — they’re cheap.
Don’t get too comfortable, smug
young managers. The day is coming when pre-teens will manage corporate America.
Watch yourself. Those guys might be in management.
Did you enjoy today’s cautionary tale about toiling in Toontown? If so, Floyd Norman currently has three books on the market that talk about the joys & perils of working in the entertainment industry.
These volumes include Floyd’s original collection of cartoons and stories
— “Faster! Cheaper! The Flip Side of the Art of Animation” (which is
available for sale over at John Cawley’s cataroo)
as well as two follow-ups to that book, “Son of Faster, Cheaper” &
“How the Grinch Stole Disney.” Which you can purchase by heading over
to Afrokids.And while you’re at it, don’t forget to check out Mr. Fun’s Blog. Which is where Mr. Norman postings his musings when he’s not writing for JHM.