Bringing a solo animation project to life is a process driven by patience, dedication, and countless vivid dreams.
In this conversation with Close-Up Culture’s James Prestridge, filmmaker Sacha Beeley pulls back the curtain on her short Babyface, exploring everything from dream-logic storytelling to the challenge of carrying a project through years of personal and creative change.
For anyone who hasn’t seen Babyface, can you introduce us to Spoon? Who is she, and what made you want to tell her story?
Sacha Beeley: Spoon is a gentle, sweet character who’s also quite awkward. I wanted to tell her story and explore whether other people could relate to that feeling of being a little disconnected or oblivious, while still being quite authentic.
The character also grew out of the design itself. She has a metal spoon for a head, and I liked playing with the idea of how a spoon might navigate the world without having fully figured out its identity.
You’ve talked about being drawn to the strange little moments and images that stick in your head. How does something like that develop from a passing idea into a fully formed story and character?
Sacha Beeley: That’s definitely how my ideas come about, whether I’m making a short film or working on something else. It always starts with these little vignettes: things I find funny, surreal or interesting, or just little scenarios that pop into my head.
The challenge is weaving them together. I’ve found that the easiest approach for me is to identify the central idea I want to explore, or perhaps the ending, and then work backwards. It’s a bit like a puzzle. I have somewhere I want to arrive, and I work backwards, planting the seeds throughout the narrative so that the audience goes on a journey towards a particular moment or scenario.
I also really want to improve my screenwriting skills. It’s a world I’m becoming increasingly interested in. I’ve worked with friends who are talented screenwriters, and for Babyface I had my friend and screenwriter Maria Pulaccino look over my script. She helped polish it and put it into a more traditional screenplay format.
That was incredibly useful because I tend to work with messy storyboards and rough scripts. Having someone help streamline everything makes a real difference.
The film sits somewhere between the everyday and the completely surreal. When you’re developing a world like this, how do you decide which details should feel recognisably real and which can break away from reality?
Sacha Beeley: I really like this question because I don’t consciously think about it. I think it’s second nature to me; it’s simply how I see the world.
When I’m dreaming, I imagine things happening that I think would be funny, and those ideas often find their way into the film.
For example, there’s a moment when Spoon starts walking up a staircase and then simply floats the rest of the way. To me, that makes perfect sense. It’s something that happens in my dreams, where you’re levitating up and down stairs, with your feet just brushing against them.
I think that’s quite a common dream experience. Humans should really be able to do that! It seems like a much more efficient way of getting up and down stairs.
Do you keep a dream journal, or do you tend to wake up and immediately start sketching something?
Sacha Beeley: I’ve written down my dreams on and off, but I often draw them because sometimes they’re so vivid and specific that I have to get them down on paper.
Quite often, they involve my friends. I’ll dream up some kind of elaborate art project that we’re working on together, and I’ll be desperate to show them afterwards. The dreams can be incredibly detailed, almost as though I’ve been planning all the logistics in my sleep.
I’ll draw everything out and show my friends, and we’ll laugh about how specific it all is.
Can you tell us where the title Babyface came from and what it means to you in relation to the film?
Sacha Beeley: There’s nothing particularly personal behind it. I heard the term “babyface” years ago and thought it was really funny. It’s a term of endearment, and there was something about the phrase that stuck with me.
I like collecting words and expressions that I find interesting, saving them for a future project. Personally, I prefer film titles that don’t necessarily describe what the film is about. I’d rather have something that’s simply enjoyable to say.
Originally, I called the film Clamato because I developed the script during an artist residency in Canada. Clamato is a brand of clam and tomato juice, and I loved the combination of those words. I thought the name was hilarious, so I decided to call the film that.
But as the years went by, I realised Clamato was actually a huge international brand. It would have been a bit like calling your film Coca-Cola. I realised it wasn’t quite the unusual, novelty word I’d initially imagined, so I changed it.
But those are the kinds of titles I like collecting.
You spent several years developing Babyface. What changed most between the version you initially imagined and the film you eventually finished?
Sacha Beeley: It was such a long process. I think any independent animation filmmaker would understand how isolating it can be. A film can carry you through so many different chapters of your life.
I started thinking of Babyface almost as a sister. It was there alongside me through all these different experiences and stages of my life.
I think I’ve become much more confident in my own work since I started making it. But I’m still glad I finished the film, because halfway through the process I began to feel that it represented an old version of myself. I wasn’t finding the same things interesting or funny anymore.
But by that point, you’re so deeply invested that you have to keep going. You’ve already drawn thousands of frames, so you need to see it through.
I’m glad I did, though. I think there’s inevitably a lag between making something and where you are creatively when it finally reaches an audience. If you keep finishing your projects, they become stepping stones towards the next thing you want to make.
You might be two or three years behind your current interests and headspace by the time a film is finished, but that’s okay. It’s all part of the process.
Has teaching changed the way you think about character movement and storytelling in your own work?
Sacha Beeley: Yes, definitely. I love teaching for lots of reasons, but I’ve learned how valuable group critiques and collaborative brainstorming can be.
We regularly bring students and tutors together to discuss ideas and give feedback. Even when it’s a relatively short session, having everyone contribute ideas can be incredibly productive. It’s something I think I need to do more in my own work.
I also love working alongside the students and seeing what they’re creating. The same goes for my colleagues, who are fellow artists and filmmakers. I get to hear about their workflows and techniques, whether that’s experimenting with colour, working with music or approaching a project in a particular way.
I find all of that really inspiring.
Has Babyface been entirely your own project, or have you had collaborators involved in bringing it to life?
Sacha Beeley: It’s been pretty much an independent production. I started developing the storyboard during an artist residency in Canada at the Toronto Animated Image Society. To be awarded the residency, you had to pitch an idea, and I already had a script and some character designs at that stage.
They gave me a studio space for free, and I worked there for about two months.
When I returned to the UK, I continued working on the film in my spare time, fitting it around freelance jobs, evenings and weekends. That’s a big part of why it took so long.
I didn’t have a crew, but I did have an incredible sound designer and a music composer, Skillbard. They contributed an enormous amount to the film.
Aside from that, it was largely a solo undertaking.
The film is screening at festivals now, including the BFI London Film Festival. What are you most curious about when it comes to how audiences respond to such a personal film?
Sacha Beeley: It’s a lovely bonus when I hear that someone genuinely enjoyed the film or that something about it resonated with them.
For me, it’s one of the few ways I currently have to express how I see the world and share the ideas that come into my head.
So, when someone connects with it, it’s a really lovely feeling. I just want to wave at them, whether that’s across the internet or in person at a film festival, and say, “That’s cool! Maybe our brains are a little bit alike.”
That feels really nice.
I think that’s one of the wonderful things about animation. It allows people to interpret a film in so many different ways, and different viewers will connect with different aspects of it. I’m sure you’ll get some great responses as the film continues its festival run.
Sacha Beeley: Thank you!
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