Tires screech on the busy streets of Montreal and as the sirens wail to the accident scene, Wendy Tilby wonders whose life has just been drastically altered: who has just lost someone, and who has possibly just died. ‘I was always struck by what happened when I would hear accidents,’ says the director. ‘And even though I didn’t know that person, I would think that an absolutely monumental event had just happened. It would affect me and I didn’t quite know why.’

It was this fascination with the interweaving of urban relationships and ‘the importance of bearing witness to other people’s lives in the hopes that they will bear witness to yours,’ according to co-director Amanda Forbis, that sparked the concept for Rockie nominee When the Day Breaks. It’s a multi-leveled, abstract look at how, as individuals, we are a collection of our thoughts, our memories and things that have happened to us, say the filmmakers.

More than four years of frustration-plagued effort from Tilby and Forbis resulted in the Oscar-nominated animated short. Since its release in 1999, When the Day Breaks has successfully traveled the festival circuit, including winning the Palme d’Or in the Short Film category at Cannes.

It is the story of how Ruby the pig’s blissful urban world accidentally converges with that of a stately rooster in the doorway of a grocery story, moments before his untimely death. The morning’s events send Ruby into a swirl of emotions as she seeks affirmation in the city.

In a secondary theme, the film also explores the complexities of cities. ‘Cities are composed of pipes and wires and the infrastructure which I had always thought of as being similar to our bodies,’ says Tilby. ‘And in the city you have the same thing – you have these structures, these tubes running underneath the sidewalks. But it is the inhabitants: the people who live in a community that actually define it.’

To complement When the Day Breaks’ portrayal of human emotions, the links we all share and the fragility of our existence, a rich texture reminiscent of a flickering newsreel was created. Using a technique involving pencil and paint on photocopies, the two Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design graduates shared the artwork evenly – except for the pipes and wires sequence, which was done by the aesthetically like-minded Martin Rose. Remembering the arduous task of finding the right technique, Tilby recalls that, ‘there were times when we both thought it should be a short[er] story! Before Amanda came on board, I kept going down blind alleys. We ended up working with video prints and that gave us a sort of photo-realism that helped with some of the realities of the characters and the city. It fleshed them out a lot more.’

Renewed inspiration

After attempting to tell the story using human characters, Tilby and Forbis hit yet another creative roadblock. ‘We had quite a challenge getting the female character molded into a shape we liked,’ says Forbis. ‘We found it very difficult in animation to portray a woman who was not defined by her sex characteristics. That problem was solved immediately when we changed her into a pig. The whole idea sort of blossomed from there and we started to enjoy the process much more.’

The team also found renewed inspiration in their decision to use music. Accustomed to the delayed gratification of the animation process, Forbis says it was ‘delicious’ how Judith Gruber-Stitzer was able to have the period sound of the ’30s and ’40s swing style music they wanted in shape so quickly. Combined with David Gossage arranging the three pieces and the vocal talents of Chaim Tannenbaum and Kate McGarrigle offspring Martha Wainwright, the co-directors/animators attest that, ‘the whole recording of the music was a real shot in the arm.’

In addition to overcoming these hurdles, Tilby and Forbis say they struggled with pulling the drama together into a cohesive shape. Haida Paul (editor on My American Cousin) helped them arrive at an answer before the final edit. They also admit that if it weren’t for the faith of their producer, David Verrall, and the National Film Board fully financing the project and providing technical help through several changes in tack – which caused them to go over budget – the film wouldn’t have been made.

Apart from their duties attending a whirlwind of film festivals, Tilby is currently teaching at Harvard University. ‘I think teaching is stimulating because it helps you to sharpen your own thinking about films. I find working with other people’s films really inspiring.’ In fact, the duo is discussing breaking a new day with a future project together.

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