From Nashville to Kilkenny: A Love Letter to the Courage of Cartoon Saloon

ben (from the song of the sea)

I’m not someone who remembers the first time I saw a movie in the theatres, but I do remember the first time I saw a Cartoon Saloon movie. I was just beginning to take a serious interest in animation and was looking for films created outside the Disney/DreamWorks vein. While leafing through the small animation section at my library, I came across a curious DVD. Behind text announcing multiple awards and accolades, a pale face peered out from behind a veil of leaves. Its Oscar nomination and setting of Irish mythology interested me, and so I checked out this beat up copy of The Secret of Kells, Cartoon Saloon’s first feature. Perhaps this indie film would inspire me, set me down a new path, and change the course of my life.

Instead, I was thoroughly bored. This slow story about monks, punctuated by excursions into extreme stylization and visual whimsy, was practically indigestible to my adolescent mind. I returned the DVD to the library and thought no more of it. Yet in college I couldn’t escape hearing whispers about this Irish studio. A studio which bucked trends not only by drawing frames by hand, but also by animating in a boldly flat and graphic look. Concept art of the very monks I saw as a teenager surfaced as reference images during my character design classes. I may have forsaken Cartoon Saloon, but the studio’s work was too excellent to be ignored forever. Soon I had watched the studio’s full catalog of films, but this time, I found myself inspired and impressed by each one. Having grown a little older and (I hope) a little wiser, the beauty of the films opened up before me. A beauty which was most evident when held against the other films of the era. Thoughtful melancholy rather than fast-paced laughs. An abandonment of linear perspective rather than hyper-real CG renders. Uniquely Irish stories rather than generic fantasies and sequels. These were films from the heart, not Hollywood products. These were films that could only be made in Kilkenny, Ireland.

Which is kinda strange, because before Cartoon Saloon, there was no animation in Kilkenny. As I’ve been reading a number of great articles sparked by release of Wolfwalkers (Cartoon Saloon’s most recent film), I’ve discovered that Cartoon Saloon’s history has been just as unconventional as their films. While most animation professionals anticipate moving to LA at the beginning of their career, this wasn’t a given for Tom Moore and the CS team. Instead, the history of Cartoon Saloon has been one of making art where you are, even if that happens to be an ocean away from the industry center. Following the success of The Secret of Kells, any of Cartoon Saloon’s team could have easily found positions in the top American studios. They could have worked with the great artists of the medium and got regular paychecks. But in the years following The Secret of Kells, the team decided to create locally. At the heart of Cartoon Saloon is a courage to create the films they want to make where they want to make them - a risky attitude, but one that has brought us some of the best animation of the past two decades. It’s also widened the industry itself, creating a new animation hub out of a small medieval city.

I don’t know what my path will look like, or yours. I for one always imagined myself leaving Nashville to work for studios in LA or elsewhere. And I may very well do that. But it’s not just that I’m excited about the idea of living somewhere new - I’m also scared of staying here. Of making animation away from the guidance and half-security of the studio system, while inevitably working non-art jobs to support myself in the meantime. I’m scared to start something totally new and trust in my own ideas. And admittedly, I don’t want to give up the chance to work with the people and projects I’m such a big fan of. Right now, Nashville feels a lot like Kilkenny before Cartoon Saloon (just with significantly less castle).

That’s why I’ve been thinking a lot about Cartoon Saloon recently. As a teenager, I was baffled by their choices. As a college sophomore, I was inspired their films. Now as a weary college senior on the precipice of the future, I find myself guided by their bravery. A bravery to seek art wherever it is found. And a freedom not to compromise on what’s really important. The story of Cartoon Saloon has shown me that you can make art where you are, and the world will be better for it. That place may be LA, but it doesn’t have to be. It could be Nashville. It could be Kilkenny. But even in an industry as centralized as animation, there’s still room for new ideas, new studios, and new Saloons.


Thanks for your readership-

-dh