It’s Such a Beautiful Day, 2012.
Directed and Narrated by Don Hertzfeldt.
SYNOPSIS:
Everyman Bill struggles to piece together his shattered psyche.
If you were to draw the most rudimentary representation of yourself possible then chances are you would draw a simple stick figure. If you were then tasked with drawing another figure, one which represented another person, you would add something to it as to differentiate it from the first – from you. The more people you draw, the more you add as you further abstract them from the baseline of normality and simplicity of the first.
This ability to project onto and relate with the simplest realisation of a person reaches its pinnacle in Don Hertzfeldt’s heartfelt and moving It’s Such a Beautiful Day. Originally released as three separate short films; Everything Will Be OK (2006), I Am So Proud of You (2008) and It’s Such a Beautiful Day (2012), the three films have now been combined into one feature-length narrative exploring the life of an everyman named Bill.
Opening with a fumbled everyday interaction between Bill and an acquaintance, the film increases exponentially in scope and ambition with every third (understandable given its origin as three separate pieces). We’re brought into Bill’s world courtesy of Hertzfeldt’s understated animation, viewing everything through keyholes surrounded by darkness. These keyholes begin to propagate and overlap as a nameless disease takes hold of Bill’s mind, allowing Hertzfeldt to explore mental degeneration in both subject matter and creative process. In spite of the subject matter humour is present and abundant, even occasionally reminiscent of his infamous short film Rejected (2000), although far milder in absurdity.
After exploring Bill’s turbulent present and learning of his uncertain future we’re taken into his past, learning of Bill’s family history via his own heightened imagination. Memories are fleeting and sharply realised as the genesis of his disease is traced back through a series of equally unhinged relatives, blending animation with photography and various other in-camera effects. Bill’s relationship with his mother forms the basis of the middle, a tortured woman who has passed down her neuroses in both nature and nurture. It’s here that Hertzfeldt further blurs the line between fine art and film, illustrating Bill’s illness with a deliberate generality that lends itself to a viewer deducing their own specificity.
Finally Hertzfeldt reaches for the stars during the final third as mental attenuation is captured with a level of reserve, sophistication and relatability that most attempts -live action or otherwise- don’t come close to achieving. The perils of daily life made apparent in the first act are exalted to a cosmic level as Hertzfeldt further incorporates live-action footage, photography and philosophy into his animated opus as the brilliance of existence is pulled into focus.
The use of Strauss and Wagner may seem to exist within the film as a counterpoint to the simplistic nature of the animation, but is one wholly earned as family, life, love, death, the fragility of memory and everything inbetween is dealt with. Hertzfeldt’s narration is unsure but friendly, echoing Bill’s very existence in tone while helping to further elicit sympathy from the pencil-and-paper depictions of universal themes.
It’s Such a Beautiful Day is a triumph of film, animation, art, a singular vision and sits comfortably among the oeuvres of any esteemed live-action directors. From Bill’s concerns about the cleanliness of fruit to the loss of a loved one either physically or mentally, Hertzfeldt captures idiosyncrasies and ideas with equal acumen. In Bill we are given our blank canvas, one which we can relate with and project onto, he just happens to have a fancy hat.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
John Lucking
Originally published March 19, 2013. Updated April 11, 2018.
