The story of storyboarding: exploring the hidden art form behind films

For many of us, exposure to storyboards starts and ends with watching DVD extras of film crews in meetings surrounded by paper. After all, by definition, storyboarding is a mode of illustration not meant to be published in its original form. A rare book looking at the discipline academically, Storyboarding: A Critical History discusses how many storyboards from Hollywood’s history, often “viewed as little more than industrial waste products,” have been lost since the studios broke up in the 70s, or survived purely by “happenstance” in archives and private collections. While the internet era means more storyboards are now traceable on subreddits and social media, what is available is scant. But what does this mean for the artwork and practice of storyboard artists working today?

While Jay has his own style when it comes to storyboarding – lively, watercolour-esque illustrations drawn digitally – he adapts it depending on the project. For Grand Budapest, this meant evoking the “quirky illustrations” of artists like Ludwig Bemelmans, famous for the children’s book series Madeline. On Isle of Dogs, Jay remembers: “That’s such an extreme difference of Wes saying, well maybe the storyboards can look like Japanese woodblock prints. So then you start to look at certain brushes that you’re working with in Photoshop and this amazing history of woodblock prints almost as a way of starting the whole creative vibe of what the film might be.”

But, this is just one of the many creative ways a storyboard can be used. Storyboard artist Sylvain Despretz, who has worked for Ridley Scott, Stanley Kubrick, and Luc Besson among others, says that the discipline can’t be standardised. At least, any more than the job of a director can be, which a storyboard is nothing more than an appendage to, varying tremendously as a result. For the live-action industry, Sylvain says the job of a storyboard artist is: “niche to the point of where if you find three to four directors that you work really well with, that’s about as many people as you are ever going to work well with in your entire life.” “Why? Because every director brings a different knowledge.” Alongside the varying nature of a storyboard depending on the director, the technically mountainous work involved in completing many is a reason Sylvain says the discipline remains largely undiscussed.

Another storyboarding artist who knows the importance of a knowledge of film is Oliver Hamilton, who began his career working for Cartoon Network on The Amazing World of Gumball and now works freelance for clients like Netflix. While storyboards for animation, and the skills entailed, vary hugely from storyboarding for live-action – so much so that crossover between the two fields from artists like Jay is a rarity – Oliver says to do his work well, a memory bank of films is crucial.

After receiving a script, Oliver has to produce a first pass, or rough draft, quickly, often drawing up to 100 frames a day. Sometimes, an elaborate sequence will be described with only a few words by the show’s writers; Oliver notes five days of drawing work might read in the script as “there’s a crazy action scene with loads of break dancing and fighting.” The process then starts with Oliver asking himself: “Where have I seen something like that before? Where a cake is thrown in the air and lands on someone’s head?” Scanning his memory bank for similar sequences he’s seen in comedy films from Charlie Chaplin or The Three Stooges, Oliver visually constructs the staging for a new joke. Learning how to make these moments work takes more than speed and precision with a pen, but taking time to watch lots of films.

Throughout film history, this level of artistry and consideration can often be found behind the surface in storyboards. Although, Sylvain warns against those looking at the industry with rose-tinted glasses. For him, the artistic relationships he’s been lucky enough to build with great directors is the joyful part of an industry that frequently builds pressure into work environments for artists, assuming they will find a way to work despite poor treatment; “Like airlines, gut pilot prices and say, well if they love to fly they’ll take the cut.”

To aspiring storyboard artists seeking out the work, Jay says it’s definitely possible, although “you have got to have quite a bit of drive,” he explains. “I really went down to Bristol with nothing more than a promise of two weeks work experience in the [Aardman] art department. You just get yourself in there. Just get inside the building!” Oliver says while storyboarding can be pretty relentless, its nature as “invisible, basically,” can work for you in this regard. As other artists overlook storyboarding for “roles where the work they do is the finished project,” more space opens up for work in what is a “small industry”, but an industry with “an even a smaller amount of storyboarders” – “or at least storyboarders that are quite experienced in working on TV shows,” Oli says.

The nature of these roles has changed considerably from the era of working in rooms full of paper sketches. As the discipline enters a digital age increasingly favouring remote-working, one can only hope the online art world catches up by carving out digital spaces to better showcase storyboarding, and the rich pool of illustrative work produced by its practitioners.