James shakes off the pain and slips the pistol back into his jacket pocket, minus the silencer which we hear bouncing off the pavement.
This is our first clue that these puppets have interchangeable body parts. When new, the hands are very difficult to get on and off without destroying the current pose. But over time they loosen up and I get better at applying leverage at key pressure points.
This was also my first mistake, in that James’ finger was never on the gun’s trigger. I realized later that even though the fingers on some of the hands are fused together, they can be sliced apart with an X-ACTO blade. And from there they are flexible enough to grip a whole variety of objects.
Oh well — no one would have notice this unless I had just pointed it out. But part of the motivation behind this blog is to help educate other animators who might be tackling similar projects.
We see the gun go off in James’ trembling hand. The muzzle flash is done with the PROGUN plug-in from PixelFilmStudios.com. I love the contrast of the yellow gunfire against B&W.
At 8 frames, this is probably the shortest shot in the film. That’s 1/3 of a second at 24 FPS (frames per second). But the jolting sound effect really sells the fact that James is at a minimum intoxicated and should probably be reported to HR.
Act 1 opens with James Bondáge stumbling drunk through a Tokyo neighborhood at dusk, desperately looking for a place to pee while trying to screw a silencer onto his pistol. Here we set the tone visually for our character’s Cold War roots by using a Cast filter and a soft-focus background.
This is a 1:6 scale Phicen M31 puppet, approximately 12 inches tall. The costume is specifically for a Secret Agent, and the fit is always too tight. The head sculpt is an older Sean Connery. I found the hat separately, and had to trim its brim with manicure scissors to match Bond’s original Trilby hat.
Phicen puppets, and most of these costumes and props are made in China. The posable figures feature a stainless steel ball-jointed armature with 26 points of articulation. They have a seamless body made from medical-grade silicone. And yes, they’re anatomically correct. They have substantial weight and can reproduce 90% of human movement. Plus plenty of inhuman poses!
I chose to limit any use of rigging, like traditional screw-downs or magnets, preferring instead to achieve each pose by natural balance. I love a good challenge, pushing the limits whenever I can. In the case of POSERS, each puppet requires a different negotiation of trust through trial and error.
These 126 frames of animation were shot on the cyclorama green screen stage I designed and built from scratch. More on that later — it’s pretty cool.
The background is video I shot on my iPhone near the Tokyo Imperial Palace. If you listen closely, you can hear some kind of martial arts class taking place inside that building.
The music here is my own original score, playing homage to older James Bond theme music from the 1960s. Throughout POSERS you’ll see and hear layers upon layers of music, and other mixed media, synced with the animation — often on the beat.
Act 2 starts with a carefully crafted title sequence — an homage to 007 in 1967’s You Only Live Twice. The matte graphics in the original were likely hand cut, so I tried to replicate the same shapes with a keyframed shape mask. And that took forever!
My brother arranged a Grab for me at 6 AM Friday and I got to the Manila airport by 7 AM. I left a little surprise for them in my guest room closet: Grampa George’s iconic hat for Eric, and a cool Starbucks Boracay bottle for Maylin.
Sir Eric and Queen Maylin, in Mandaluyong City
I always like to talk to the local drivers when I travel, and the Grab guy was as nice as any. The conversation steered its way to politics and he made the statement that America is the most powerful nation, so Filipinos respect us the most.
I had to explain that it depends on how you define “powerful” today. America might still have the most powerful military but everything else here is crumbling — especially culturally. The true power I saw here was Asians treating family, friends and strangers with courtesy and respect.
There was a line a mile long outside the terminal but a uniformed baggage handler grabbed my bags and said, “Have something ready for Security and they’ll let you right in.” Well naturally I thought this was a heist but before I could put up a fight he signaled to the Security guard and he slipped my bags right on the conveyor. So once inside I happily gave him my last few Pesos.
In the Immigration hall I was reminded once again of our cultural differences. The lines were excruciatingly slow, as expected. Philippine citizens on one side, everyone else on the other. None of the Filipinos were cursing, swearing or even talking loudly. Yet several American millennials surrounding me were doing all those things at once. An elder Filipina-American from Kentucky had struck up a conversation with me and I wanted to tell these kids to shut their yaps and show some respect. I was embarrassed.
My Delta plane loaded up and then of course sat on the taxiway for a half hour due to poor Air Traffic Control. But four hours later I was in Narita again, where I had to go through two more security checkpoints even though I was on a connecting flight in the same terminal. Delta had warned me about this but at least my bag was checked all the way from Manila to Portland. Eric had explained the the Philippines had failed their TSA audit for being lax.
Landfall at the Oregon Coast, near Astoria and the mouth of the Mighty Columbia River
Eleven uncomfortable hours later I was in Portland, where American incivility reared its head again at Customs. An ugly white uniformed woman was yelling bruskly at new arrivals to pick the right line or face her wrath. I was shocked when she literally yanked the arm of a tired Filipina and told her to get out of the Americans’ way. Turns out they were US citizens. Her first clue should have been the smiling husband’s US Navy cap. Again, I was ashamed to see kind, humble people treated this way by a TSA agent who very likely voted for Trump. Oregon, remember, was originally founded as a white supremicist utopia.
Racial profiling like this is why the civilized world increasingly sees us as the Ugly Americans. But no one treated me this way in Japan, the Philippines and especially Boracay. To the contrary, I felt like I didn’t deserve being treated like a rock star.
The US Customs agent asked me three questions:
“What were you doing in the Philippines? How long has your brother lived there? Did you buy anything there?”
“I’m going to give my wife a pearl necklace,” I said, exhausted.
“Good idea,” he said. “Welcome home.”
Ironically my lovely wife Olivia wasn’t waiting to pick me up at the airport as expected. I had apparently screwed up the time zones on our Calendar so we both thought I was arriving Saturday. Yeah, 34 hours after I let her know I was leaving Tokyo? LOL, time travel can be confusing, po. 😉
Goodbye for now, my new friends. I hope to see you again soon!
Philippine travel is a model of inefficiency. Every flight so far was delayed an hour and the terminals are crowded. So be sure to plan ahead. Of course my little brother Eric knows the ropes so it’s all good. And everyone is so nice and polite — even after you leave.
The boat to Caticlan
I’ve never seen crazier driving than from Manila to Mandaluyong City. The lines on the roads mean absolutely nothing here. Yet our Coupon Cab wove through traffic like a cigar shop on wheels. Everywhere you look, buses and motorcycles take turns making unsafe lane changes. It can be harrowing for the newbie, but Eric explained there is no road rage here and you never see accidents. Just amazing. I don’t know how they make it work, but they do.
They have a vehicle here called the Jeepney. They’re surplus US Army Jeeps that were converted to long, open air taxis. But they’re also a common target for “holduppers.” Brazen thieves who hop in to rob the passengers or just swipe purses when the Jeepney is stuck in traffic. So you always lock your doors here. Especially when there is zero traffic or law enforcement.
We picked up Eric’s wife Maylin (My-lean) and had a Spaghetti dinner in the Megamall. After that we stopped at one of the cleanest grocery stores I’ve ever seen, which caters to the elite in this area.
There I was introduced to Filipino “candy.” Apparently the dried squid is the most popular. But not more delicious or nutritious than a can of Pringles — right, Miss Vanessacolada?
I’ve gotten to see a little how American expatriates live here. This is Eric and Maylin walking to their condo’s freight elevator. The grocery store then comes and picks up their cart. I think Eric’s talking about Pinky joining their Mobile Legends squad, and Maylin’s about to slap him. 😀
On Tuesday after breakfast and a swim, we walked back through D’Mall and shopped a little. We had a couple beers at a midget bar called the Hobbit Tavern, then settled in for a pizza at the Red Coconut.
For some reason I decided not to phone home. I’m sure Olivia will understand. 😉
These are the famous Paraw Sail boats. They’re catamarans so you sit in nets and skim over the ocean. That sounds like great fun but I couldn’t convince Eric to do it. So I’ll save that experience for when Olivia comes here.
This was our last full day here, so I was determined to put my drone up at sunset. I had asked at the bar but even the manager (Gerry) didn’t seem to know the law, and couldn’t give me access to the hotel’s roof. He said it was “prohibited” but we thought he meant at the hotel.
You see, I had also scoured the Philippines CPAA website before I left. That’s their equivalent of the FAA in the US. And every indication was that drones are okay here as long as you don’t fly within 100 feet of crowds, more than 400 feet altitude and less than 10 kilometers from an airports. There are signs all over White Beach listing what you can’t do, but there’s not a single sign prohibiting drones.
You know where this is going…
I walked all the way back south to the secluded cove I had scoped out the previous day. I didn’t want to make a nuisance of myself so I waited until all the patrols were out of sight. Then I launched from the sand about five minutes before sunset, knowing that one battery was worth at least 20 minutes of 4K video.
I won’t be able to watch it until I get home, but I’m sure it’s spectacular. Even though the sunset wasn’t as dramatic as last night, I flew over several sail boats at just over 100 feet.
The next thing I know, a local Filipino “sentinel” approached me, took photos and made a call. Within five minutes I was surrounded by four local cops and a tall PNP (Philippine National Police) guard wielding an M-16 machine gun.
“Sir, did you know flying a drone is prohibited on Boracay?”
“No, I wasn’t aware.” I explained that I had researched this before my trip and it all looked okay without the need for a recreational permit. But they weren’t having any of it. The interpreter explained that I was within 8 kilometers of an airport (doubtful) and there was a local ordinance passed in 2017. She produced the law on paper and I wasn’t about to argue.
Usually, if you are in restricted airspace for any reason, your drone’s GPS system will disable flight. But naturally the Philippines wouldn’t be part of a system that advanced. They’re still struggling with clean drinking water.
So yeah, this was pretty much my worst nightmare. Not so much because of the legal ambiguity, but because I’m suddenly trying to land my aircraft amid a swarm of people with guns who keep demanding my ID. But at least I had the fortune of being the dumb American tourist.
Once landed, I apologized profusely and asked, “Is there a fine I can pay you?”
“Yes, they will give you a citation and you will pay ₱2,500 to them,” the interpretor said. “You will then go to the Police Station in the morning and the Mayor will give you a receipt.”
“That’s okay, I don’t need a receipt. And I fly home tomorrow morning anyway,” I said, hoping that’s all it really was. When they wrote down my Oregon driver’s license info and asked for my hotel and room number I started getting nervous. I was concerned this might be an “apprehension” but then she said, “Don’t worry, sir. They will bring your receipt to the hotel for you.” I nodded in agreement but my intention was to remain scarce in the morning.
Fortunately I had the cash on me. They allowed me to stow my gear properly and didn’t confiscate anything. And because the fine amounted to just $47.57 US, I now have a great story to share on the Mavic Pro drone forum — and 20 minutes of awesome video I presume. It’s also possible I caught the swarm of cops on video. In fact if I hadn’t been so frazzled I might have thought to aim my camera at them on landing.
It was a long walk down to that secluded cove so I still can’t believe how quickly they tracked me down. Nor how professional they were in enforcing their local law. I had halfway expected them to shoot Scenario One out of the sky! 😉
Next time I might bring one of these Bionic Bird drones.
Look for a video link here next week, once I have time to edit my life of international crime. 🙂
I did a bit more sightseeing along White Beach on Monday. These are the “pump boat” water taxis.
And of course I’m a Vespa nut, although these are Chinese scooters.
Back at my home stool, Pinky offered to make me a special cocktail. It took a long long time to carve this coconut. With white rum it tasted a bit like a milkshake. Delicious! And just as filling, too. She is married with a three-year-old son. But she jokes that she’s only 16.
Another amazing postcard sunset over the “Skypool.” I took some nice video but it’s too big to post here. Look for it on Vimeo when I get back to Portland.
On Sunday Eric and I started with an awesome buffet breakfast at the sand’s edge and just people watched. We took a swim and waddled up north on White Beach to the D’Mall entrance.
The beach is lined with small shops, massage spas, restaurants and security guards. The activity vendors were persistent but not overly aggressive. I was surprised to see American fast food right on the beach. Shakey’s, McDonald’s, Subway and KFC are quite popular even here.
But every hundred yards or so there is a strong smell of sewer gas, even right next to where people are dining. So you stop and wonder how that can be. And then you realize there are manholes right in the main pathway, just under a layer of sand. Poor planning, Boracay. You can do better.
Later I walked alone a mile south to try and find a safe drone launching point. (More on that later!) The sand here is the consistency of brown sugar. Not quite white but more blonde. It stays cool in the 90-degree sun and feels good on the feet.
Back at the Skybar we were getting to know our “barmaids,” Pinky (yes, like your little finger) and Vanessa. They work on their feet six days a week and stay in a boarding house on Boracay, traveling hours back to their villages on neighboring islands on their day off. Pinky is the savvy Bar Team Lead, and Vanessa the Ambassador of Smiles.
The language here is Tagalog, but they all know basic English. Still, the mistranslations can be quite perplexing — and funny. Eric and Pinky were Mobile Legends addicts, so they had lots to talk about. We promised to bring our wives next time to keep us out of trouble. 😉
In the evening we switched to Mai Tais and the girls were happy to make them Hawaiian style, with guava juice. Yum! I dubbed it the Pinky Mai Tai and suggested they should start charging for drinks here. And yes, drinks are incredibly cheap in the Philippines — especially when your brother is charging them to the room!
This bar only serves Filipino food and the “beef” here is not what you think. They don’t have western cows here. When they aren’t feasting on seafood or chicken here they eat Carabao, which is fattier and gamier than beef. So now I can say I’ve tried water buffalo. 🙂
