Lunes cerrado

A drunk finds an open door at an art gallery which is usually - for apparently very good reasons - CLOSED MONDAYS.

With this ingenious little cartoon, Will Vinton and his talented artists announced that they had entered the animation world in a big way. Their Claymation magic was able to ring the subtlest changes of emotion and bring out nuances of character remarkable for three dimensional props. As here, where the old inebriate finds himself drawn into the secret life of the various exhibits, so the viewers find themselves falling into a suspension of disbelief both rational & expectant.

Winner of the 1974 Oscar for Best Animated Short.

The 1974 winner of Best Animated Short depicts a man looking at artwork that appears to come to life. I especially liked the malfunctioning computer. One might interpret Will Vinton's "Closed Mondays" as a look at the relationship between humanity and the art that we produce. There's even the question of how to define art. I wouldn't call this my favorite Will Vinton cartoon, but I enjoyed it. Personally I don't think that enough people get to see the nominated animated shorts. They tend to be far more interesting than the features voiced by the celebrities of the moment.

Anyway, this one is worth seeing. It's too bad that Phil Knight took over Will Vinton's studio and fired Vinton from it.

This claymation short film starts with an old man, jolly off wine, coming into an empty art gallery and being quick to dismiss much of what he sees as rubbish. However as he walks around, the static images and works do more than remain this way and instead start to speak to him in different ways.

There is a point in this short film about the power of art to be alive and speak to the viewer and I mostly liked the idea behind this short where the various words come alive to the way that they are either silly, moving or everything in between. The idea is good and at points so is the short film – particularly in the sudden poignancy of the conclusion, however for me I found myself more appreciating the film and the idea than I did really enjoying it. The reason for this is two-fold. Firstly the animation. I appreciate it is now over 40 years old, but it is rather ugly in the delivery – in some cases it works (for example the transforming robot) but in others I found it as a barrier to watch – I know this is superficial and unfair to the content, but for me it was as such. The second thing that gave me pause was that some of the examples of the art coming alive didn't work – and again I use the transforming robot as an example, it seemed too silly and out of nowhere. Had all the examples had something to bring to the table it would have been better but again this robot example stuck with me as being out of place considering the good ending it was building to.

This won the Oscar for the year and in a way I do not begrudge it because I like the idea and aspects of the delivery, but I would be lying to say I did not struggle with some of the animation and the content at the same time. I appreciated it as a whole, but I did not necessarily enjoy it as such.

I've always preferred traditional animation to stop-motion/claymation. Whether it's Wilfred Jackson's 'The Old Mill (1937)' or Chuck Jones' 'What's Opera, Doc?,' classic animation indefinitely retains its timelessness and the ability to transport the viewer into a visual dimension entirely different from our own. When done correctly, claymation can, of course, be equally effective, but I didn't find this to be the case in 'Closed Mondays (1974),' an Oscar-winning short directed by Bob Gardiner and Will Vinton. When I looked at the old man in the art gallery, I wasn't transported into the film's world, but, rather, I recognised the character as a mass of shifting clay – several inches in height – and grimaced wryly as he shuffled across the floor in a completely awkward and unrealistic gait. The film contains some interesting ideas, but the animation is accomplished so clumsily that I was barred from entering its world; if films like 'A Grand Day Out with Wallace and Gromit (1989)' and 'Harvie Krumpet (2004)' were able to avoid these complications, then I'm less willing to cut this one some slack.

Nevertheless, I was certainly impressed with what 'Close Mondays' had to say about the nature of art. To consider each picture frame as a window into another world, filled with animate people and objects, is to add a new dimension to how one critically evaluates art. A masterpiece should possess the ability to make itself come to life before our eyes, and it is up to the viewer to contemplate the meaning of what we are seeing, and the events that might have led towards the image depicted in a painting. The frame of the lonely maid, forever condemned to solemnly scrub the cold stone floor, is almost heartbreaking in its poignancy; if only the remainder of the artworks were just as meaningful {I'm still trying to decide what that metamorphic super-computer was all about}. And, of course, I enjoyed the ending, confirming that behind every piece of art there is considerably more than initially meets the eye, an entire story just waiting to be told… even if nobody is watching.

It's been 25 years since Closed Mondays was released, and at least 20 since I've seen it... so my fond memories of this short are a testament to it's lasting impact. I too lament it's unavailability on video. I just saw the Wallace and Gromit series, and would love to see Closed Mondays again to remember all the little details.