The phrase “adult animation” may or may not have a specific connotation for you, whether you’re thinking of “American Dad!” or something… different. Whatever the case may be, the phrase “adult animation” should bring to mind, well, adult topics. And not even necessarily anything raunchy—although that is plenty adult, in the context of “adult animation”—but rather, topics that are too nuanced or too graphic or too discomforting for something termed “young person animation” I guess. Topics like diaspora and sexual politics and gigantic cocks doing pushups in a squeaking gymnasium (but more on that later).
Coming to the High Noon Saloon Oct. 28, “Twillerama” is your chance to see some of the best “adult animation” all in one sitting. The brainchild of Morgan Miller (who directed, produced and animated the feature) and Josh Kleefeld, “Twillerama” seeks to showcase this variety of cartooning in all its unadulterated glory. This isn’t the kind of show you’d want to take your kid to, or your impressionable younger sibling; tickets are $5 and you have to be at least 21 to attend.
And granted, it isn’t the kind of show you’d want to take your kid to, anyway. It’s graphic, raunchy, a little off-color, a little despondent and heavy on the phalluses: It’s all pretty great.
And (best of all) it’s got a fantastic conceit to go with it: “Twillerama” is itself hosted by a pair of animated adults, webcasting live from the “Slushenburg Garbage Park.” Amid flurries of seagulls, Jeff Twiller (Miller) and Randy J. Johnson (Kleefeld) recline in lawn chairs, lording as hosts and curators of the event. Twiller (a stertorous, goateed man porting a “My Other Ride Is Your Mom” t-shirt) and Johnson (sporting a thick caterpillar moustache and mullet, habitually pounding a beer) engage in numerous hilarious exchanges as they introduce each film. Johnson, in particular, feels the need to give every film a “Best” award, even if it’s something he’s already given out before. Prizes include plaques, trophies and a bottle of Twiller’s lubricant.
As with any good webcast made from a city garbage dump, they take some time to showcase their parcour videos, at the behest of Todd Hanson, former The Onion writer and voice of Dan Halen on “Squidbillies.” If you’re wondering what his character is, that’s it. Todd Hanson shows up as Todd Hanson. Or does he? You’ll have to go to the show to find out.
Adamantly blue-collar, Twiller and Johnson bring a charming verve to “Twillerama,” as they introduce films that range from the steadfastly serious to the uproariously comic. Sex is a common denominator of “Twillerama,” and sees itself subject to both seriousness and comedy.
On the serious side, Celia Bullwinkel’s “Sidewalk” sees an unnamed white-haired heroine navigating the vagaries of aging. As the camera scrolls right and she walks on, she finds her body changing with every hopscotch square she jumps and every tree and lamp pole she walks past. We see the whole of her life, from childhood to old age, alternately uplifting and disheartening. There is comedy, but it’s a subdued variety.
“The Club” by George Griffin, on the other hand, is nothing short of hilarious. A rare short dating from 1975, the premise of “The Club” is simple: There’s this club, see, a men’s club. And by men, we mean penises. Everyone is a penis, with short hands, sipping from wine glasses and reading from the morning paper (“The Chanticleer,” maybe?), sleeping in armchairs or doing pushups in the gym. They watch other penises on the evening news, humming weirdly throughout. It’s a strange time. And for the record, they’re all circumcised, something Johnson is quick to note.
“Teat Beat of Sex,” in contrast to “Sidewalk” and “The Club,” strikes a happy medium between serious and funny. Narrated by creator Signe Baumane, “Teat Beat” sees the animator discussing her preferred penis size. Spoiler alert: She’s not looking for any squash-sized monstrosity. Using humor, innuendo and visual puns, Brumane frankly walks the audience through a facet of her sexual history.
It’s not all sex, of course. There’s other stuff, like horror! Pure, unmitigated horror! Take, for instance, Brian and Kevin Lonano’s live action “Martian Precursor.” Want homeless men vomiting blood and white stuff? Strange, luminescent alien faces? Lo-fi Mars? This is for you!
Or take “Down to the Bone,” by Peter Ahern. Centering on a disaffected babysitter and Michael, her allergy-prone charge, things quickly escalate as the babysitter attempts to bring him out of his comfort zone (i.e. somewhere where she doesn’t have to watch him) and cause things to go… down to the bone. Whimsically enough, this whole piece is underpinned by somnolent, calming tunes from Georges Bizet, Ludwig van Beethoven and Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.
Naturally, sex and horror aren’t the only topics these films cover. Some of the films are sweetly melancholic or charmingly somber. Take “Moons” by Liesje Kraai a film about Laika. Scrolling upward, we follow the famous Russian space dog on her journey out of the atmosphere, ending with a quote from Oleg Gazenko (lead scientist of the Soviet space program) lamenting the needless death of Laika. Clean and geometric, this is a serious highlight.
In a similar vein, “Mountain Ash” by Jake Armstrong and Erin Kilkenny (my favorite from the screener) unfolds over the course of several winter days, as a hirsute mountain man goes out to cut firewood. The fox watches the man, since she knows the mice emerge from their hole whenever the berry-laden trees are felled. The days progress, important changes occur and by the end the forest runs with ghosts. It’s a beautiful, poignant piece.
If you can stomach the show’s raunchier or cringe-inducing moments—or hold back the tears when the emotional stuff hits—then “Twillerama” is sure to delight.
