Sun Xun's 'Magic Atlas' is a decade-long epic that pushes the boundaries of animation, blending spiritual odysseys, political parables, and folk tales into a bewildering yet captivating whole. This article delves into the making of this ambitious project, exploring the challenges, creative choices, and philosophical underpinnings that make it a unique and thought-provoking work of art. Personally, I find the journey of creating 'Magic Atlas' particularly fascinating, as it showcases Sun's unwavering commitment to his artistic vision and his willingness to defy conventional norms in the animation industry.
A Decade in the Making
What makes 'Magic Atlas' truly remarkable is the sheer scale and duration of its creation. Sun Xun, primarily known as a gallery artist, embarked on this project with a small team of five and eventually enlisted the help of approximately 500 art-school students. This collaborative effort, combined with the involvement of professional post-production artists and musicians from China and Japan, resulted in a final cost of approximately 40 million RMB. The pace of production was dictated by both financial constraints and the visual complexity of the project, with Sun having to improvise and adjust his approach as funding came and went.
Defending the Handmade Image
One of the most intriguing aspects of 'Magic Atlas' is Sun's commitment to the handmade image. In an era of rapidly advancing digital tools and generative artificial intelligence, Sun insists on creating all animated movement by hand, without machine assistance. This decision is rooted in his suspicion of standardization in the animation industry, which he believes has become overly reliant on Japanese-style animation. Sun argues that this standardization stifles artistic exploration, and he is determined to discover and promote his own graphic language.
Feeling Rather Than Understanding
'Magic Atlas' does not offer viewers an easy route through its narrative. Characters, creatures, political systems, and spiritual guides arrive with little explanation, and images follow the shifting logic of myths and dreams. Sun wants audiences to enter the work, but he questions the assumption that there is a single entity called 'the general public' whose needs can be anticipated and satisfied. Instead, he encourages viewers to trust their instincts and emotions, rather than seeking a single, stable meaning.
The Legitimate Liar
Beneath its mythology and metaphysics, 'Magic Atlas' is also a political work. It critiques the brutal industrial state of Luocha, where exploitation, enforced forgetting, and restrictions on freedom are the norm. Sun returns to the central figure of the magician, who is the only 'legitimate liar' in his work. The magician's dishonesty is declared, and the audience knowingly enters into a relationship with his illusions. Sun argues that the magician's lies may contain the highest proportion of truth, and that art can create a small opening in the surface of accepted reality.
A Spiritual Practice
For Sun, the prolonged labor of 'Magic Atlas' became a form of spiritual practice. He believes that art requires mobilizing one's entire being to confront the world, and that the most important thing in art is the texture of life, not its form. In the final shot, Xiaozhi and the magician enter another world together, sharing a common mission and belonging, in some sense, to the same higher-dimensional soul. This ending leaves viewers with a sense of wonder and uncertainty, inviting them to peer through the cracks and discover the truth for themselves.
