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I didn\u2019t realize how often I had seen a chunky piece of pizza walking across a blank road to nowhere with Mickey Mouse gloves and big ol\u2019 boots, but once I did, I could never unsee it. Every so often, usually while scrolling through Pinterest<\/a> or Instagram<\/a>, a sentient object with buggy eyes and a cheeky smile under a plasticine Canva font would greet me, usually with the intention of selling me something or telling me to go somewhere where other<\/em> people could sell me something. The designs create an uneasy feeling for me; it\u2019s unclear whether they belong in a pandemic teen\u2019s bedroom or an overpriced millennial bistro. A quick Google search (and a couple of Reddit threads<\/a>) brought me to a strange term: \u201cmodern rubberhose<\/a>\u201d.<\/p>\n If you\u2019re like me \u2014 someone who\u2019s not embroiled in the history of animation \u2014 the phrase \u201cmodern rubberhose\u201d sounds like it could refer to a pretentious underground band or a piece of cutting-edge gardening technology. In actuality, it refers to the interpretation of 1930s animation styles in present-day art. In the 1930s, \u201crubberhose<\/a>\u201d was the main art style for animation \u2014\u00a0namely the first mainstream one. Characterized by its loose-limbed, physics-defying slapstick, the goal of the art style was to allow creative freedom within the constraints of a low budget, especially during the Great Depression. Fleischer Studios<\/a> was the juggernaut of this era, and their creations remain American cultural icons (do Betty Boop<\/a> or Popeye<\/a> ring a bell?). Initially falling out of favor in exchange for more sophisticated long-form animation (the post-Disney industry was not kind to this style), rubberhose blossomed back into popularity in the late 2010s after the massive success of video games like Bendy and The Ink Machine<\/a> and Cuphead<\/a>, both released in 2017 and directly inspired by Fleischer\u2019s body of work. Now it\u2019s everywhere in the graphic design community \u2014 and I can\u2019t say that\u2019s ideal.<\/p>\n I may not be an animation expert, but I do love video games. I was a huge fan of the resurgence of the charming vignette-laden art style back when Cuphead first took the gaming scene by storm. It was a painstakingly human art style, as dynamic and lifelike as the controls \u2014 and you could tell, much like the shorts that inspired it, the game was made with love. Besides, I\u2019ll never complain at the sight of artists breathing new life into a long-dormant art style; that is, until the new life goes stale. My obvious grievance is that its overuse makes it mundane in comparison to when it first made its return to the mainstream scene. But that can be said for any stylistic trend. So what makes this<\/em> particularly unappealing only a few years after its resurgence? The answer is simple: It misses the point.<\/p>\n These new images are static snapshots that cannot replicate the fluidity that makes the style successful in animation, no matter how hard they try. The eyes of the characters no longer dazzle with excitement \u2014 they only possess a soulless, thousand-yard stare, transforming the cute character into a bizarre corporate entity. Unlike the distinct attire of the characters of yore, these little guys exclusively wear white gloves and boots, showing a severe lack of creativity when it comes to giving them a distinct appearance. As for movement? You can forget it. No motion lines or creative poses here. The most they can muster is a half-hearted march across a beige No Man\u2019s Land. Overall, without the animation to liven up the characters, these drawings can only ride nostalgic coattails rather than expand on a truly innovative idea.<\/p>\n