General

50 Years | 500+ Film and TV credits | 135+ Awards

SINCE 1975

The production visual effects supervisor discusses the Emerald City, Elphaba in flight, and collaborating with Jon M. Chu.

By Mark Newbold

Based on the novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by American author Gregory Maguire, the Wicked musical has enchanted audiences worldwide, both on the stage and on the big screen. Maguire’s 1995 novel was not only an adult-oriented version of L. Frank Baum’s classic children’s story, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, but it was also the first entry in The Wicked Years book series.

With music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and a book by Winnie Holzman, the stage version of Wicked (or to give it its full title, Wicked: The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz) premiered on May 28, 2003 at the Curran Theatre in San Francisco and has broken records wherever it has been performed, including over 7,000 performances in London’s West End.

A true phenomenon ripe for further adaptations, director Jon M. Chu’s Wicked landed in cinemas in November 2024. Capturing the imagination of the cinema audience, the final moments of the film promised a sequel, and that promise was kept when Wicked: For Good debuted a year later in November of 2025, continuing the story of Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo), Glinda Upland (Ariana Grande), Fiyero Tigelaar (Jonathan Bailey), the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum), and the people of Oz.

Loaded with sequences of dizzying visual complexity, Industrial Light & Magic was tasked with bringing Chu’s vision to vivid, yellow-bricked life. ILM.com had the opportunity to sit down with the production’s four-time Oscar-nominated visual effects supervisor Pablo Helman to discuss Wicked: For Good and the task of unveiling even more of Munchkinland, Shiz University, and the Emerald City.

“It was a 155-day shoot for a two-part story,” says Helman. “We thought of Wicked and Wicked: For Good as one movie, and we shot it that way.” That meant intense preparation and planning, given the logistical and technical nature of certain sequences in the films.

“Visual effects can often be challenging because you’re asking the director, the editor, and everybody else to think about things that they normally don’t want to think about,” explains Helman. “A director is thinking of the whole story, but we’re asking them to look at specific sequences because we need to turn over a certain number of shots. They don’t like to be presented with choices because they think they’ve already made their choice, so why present another one? That means they have to rethink, and that takes time.” 

Jon Chu was open to the challenge. “Jon takes an organic approach to filmmaking, he loves having choices and different possibilities,” Helman says. “There might be a script and a plan in place, but the process of making a major motion picture still has plenty of fluidity. “Lots of things change throughout the process of filming, and there are lots of choices to make.”

(Credit: ILM & Universal).

“It’s a Transactional Thing”

Creative choices are one thing, but a production like Wicked: For Good requires a large amount of preparation and resources, and a sizable portion of those resources are given over to visual effects. As production visual effects supervisor, Helman was deeply involved with practical as well as creative duties.

“Part of my role is managing the project in partnership with my effects producer,” Helman explains. “That includes talent, financials, resources, all kinds of things. So if you’re not thinking ahead, you’re not doing your job. Nobody likes to be in dailies and not be able to say, ‘Yes, I can do this,’ and the only reason you say ‘I can do this’ is because you have a plan A, a plan B, and a plan C.” 

Those plans require intense work from the team, gathering as much data as they can. “We have LiDAR [a laser system that scans objects and environments to recreate physical objects and sets as digital models], we have high resolution textures, HDRIs for lighting, all the science behind it, so that when we’re in dailies, I can say ‘Yes, we can do this.’” That preparation is integral to the production. “Nobody likes to be surprised or ambushed. You don’t want to get into those situations, and we never did with Jon. He’s a great communicator and a terrific person. There was never a moment when he was annoyed about anything. For four years on a project, that is an accomplishment.”

Art always comes with the cost of tools, be it the canvas, brushes, and oils a painter uses, or the clay and tools of a sculptor. It’s the same for visual effects artists, but as Helman explains, creativity always leads the discussion.

“The creative stuff that we put together as a team comes first, and after that, you have to be conscious of the resources,” Helman says. “I could go to a producer and say, ‘Look, I know that we’re spending a lot more resources in this section, but I promise that when we get here, I’m going to find a way to get back the resources that we’re putting into this.’ It’s a transactional thing, but it’s all about the storytelling. 

“There’s always a way of doing what is needed for the movie,” Helman continues. “You look at the storytelling and the amount of resources and ask, ‘Is it worth it? Is there a payoff?’” Time and money are challenges for every production, no matter the scale, but Helman believes one is more of a problem than the other. “At some point, you run out of resources, but the resource isn’t money; it’s time, which is finite. You can throw all kinds of money at the problem, but it won’t get done, because it needs more time in the oven. Then it’s not my choice, it’s a choice that we make together.”

(Credit: ILM & Universal).

 “Every Department Brings Something to the Storytelling”

The work of the visual effects team overlaps with many departments, few more than the special effects team, whose focus is on-set effects like steam, smoke, weather elements, and anything the performers physically touch. Helman gives an example of where the seam between the two lies. “Production design can’t build a 79-story building. They can build 55 feet of it, and then visual effects takes that and develops it, all based on what was done on set.” ILM and their fellow effects houses can expand the world of Wicked, but it only works if the departments are on the same page.

“There’s plenty of discussion about special effects, what can and cannot be done in camera, what’s safe and what’s not,” says Helman. “Filmmaking is one of the most collaborative art disciplines because if you don’t collaborate, you end up with something that is flat. Every department brings something to the storytelling and adds nuance in a way that is individual, surprising, interesting, and curious. So it’s a combination of all those things. There were about 1,000 artists and production crew on these films, and I really would like to thank them because if it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t be doing this.”

To the Emerald City

The Emerald City is as much a character in both Wicked films as Elphaba, Glinda, Fiyero, Boq (Ethan Slater, aka the Tin Man), Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), and The Cowardly Lion (voiced by Colman Domingo). It is the home of the wonderful wizard and the high society of Oz, as well as the underclasses who have to fight for every scrap. Wicked showed us a vast swathe of the city, and Wicked: For Good not only takes us back there, but it takes us into places we’ve not seen before, a task that fell to Helman and his team.

“There were certain parts of Emerald City that we saw in the first part of the story, and certain parts of that we see in the second, so we built different assets for different parts of the story,” explains Helman. “The first movie was a lot more presentational. Things were being set up, and tonally, the movie was lighter, whereas the second one is a lot darker.” That visual change also mirrors the journey of the characters.

“Every character has a specific arc, so in Wicked: For Good, they deal with the consequences of the choices they made in the first film. Part of production design and visual effects is to accompany the performances with the environment,” Helman continues. “The atmospherics are always thick, and the light direction is purposely very dramatic at times. The sun is low, so there’s less light.” Time is also a factor in the progression of the environment. “It’s a combination of things. The clothes and the creatures get used, and the buildings get worn because they went through a specific experience.” He laughs, as he adds with a wink, “When I started the movie, my hair was brown, and now it’s white.”

(Credit: ILM & Universal).

“We’re Off to See the Wizard”

At the heart of the Wicked films are Elphaba and Glinda, and the second film gave the production the opportunity to delve deeper into the classic characters of L. Frank Baum’s original novel and add a 2025 spin on the characters. 

“It was really exciting,” says Helman. “I remember the first test that we did with Dorothy, Toto, the Tin Man, and the Scarecrow. It’s funny because some of the critics were saying that the chronology of the story didn’t do this or that. Well, you know what? It’s a complicated story, and everybody remembers it differently, so I think this is another point of view of that story.”

Based on Gregory Maguire’s novel, which itself presented the story and characters of Baum’s world in a more mature, complicated light, it gave the filmmakers the chance to overlap parallel stories in ways that didn’t step on each other. “It was fun to think about. One thing is right there in the background, but if I come around and go in front, the story is different. It’s an opportunity.”

“Mitigate the Forces of Gravity”

With plenty of experience in making us believe a human, a superpowered dog, or a battered old Corellian freighter can fly, ILM was charged with taking Elphaba into the skies of Oz, a task that required visual effects know-how and a game performer in Cynthia Erivo.

“The approach was always going to be Cynthia doing the flying,” says Helman. “That meant that she needed to mitigate the forces of gravity, no pun intended. She’s singing while trying to get her body to do very specific actions. Cynthia is very strong, but it takes some effort.” 

A willing actor and all the right equipment don’t necessarily mean the results are what is required by the director or the visual effects team. “Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes, because of safety and other things, the actors are not fully exerting themselves, but Cynthia did.” That combination meant that when all was said and done, Elphaba looked even more imposing in the air in the sequel than she did in the first film. “In the arc of the story, she’s proficient. She’s gliding and then stopping. She knows what she’s doing and she’s done it before. She takes time to look at the world under her, and that requires some skill.”

Along with flying, there’s another aspect to the illusion: Elphaba’s cape, one of the most striking elements of her appearance as she heads down a dark path. “Elphaba’s cape isn’t in the cast, but it is a character in the movie, and it does a lot, not only when flying but also landing and taking off,” notes Helman. “Its creation required the skills of two visual effects houses. “ILM and Framestore created it because we couldn’t do a 30-foot-long cape physically.” With practical and visual effects work woven together, parts of the performer were also replaced to create the complete shot, but as Helman explains, “we always used Cynthia’s face and performance.”

Creating the physical cape meant crafting clothing that gives the right look and says something about the character, a challenge the designers went to great lengths to achieve. “The cape has different layers of materials and transparency, but we took some liberties with it,” explains Helman. “We know how difficult it is from doing different capes, from the Vader cape to Superman. The cape says who he or she is.” 

As is often the case, trial and error was the path to finding the right blend. “There was a lot of testing, we did simulations and resins, but at the end of the day, we said let’s forget about the science of it because it’s about the content. It might be scientifically correct, but it doesn’t work if it’s not doing what we need it to do and it’s not correct for the story we’re trying to tell.”

(Credit: ILM & Universal).

Unlimited Together

Just like its smash-hit predecessor, Wicked: For Good brings together an impressive array of on-screen and off-screen talent, all laser-focused on bringing their utmost in service of making the best film they possibly can. On visual epics like Wicked, visual effects, storytelling, and direction need to be in lockstep.

“There’s a four-minute sequence with this beautiful song that Glinda sings at the beginning of the movie called ‘I Couldn’t Be Happier,’” Helman says. “We redressed Munchkintown, we replaced the sky, the tulips, all kinds of things, but when we looked at it, Jon said ‘We’re missing something because this is a very subtle song.’ Jon said, ‘What if, when she starts singing, the confetti stops?’” 

It’s a striking visual as the confetti hangs motionless in the air, but one that entailed more work than one might imagine. “I asked how long are we doing this for, and Jon said the whole scene. That’s four minutes of really resource-intensive particle work that we didn’t know would work or not, but we had to complete it because we needed to know.” That would require Helman’s most valuable resource: time. “Jon understood that if he wanted to see this, it was going to take weeks to get it. It’s important to have that communication with the director, and to have somebody who understands what we’re doing.”

Magic, Glory, and Love

The ultimate combination of visual effects, performance, direction, production design, and numerous other departments is “The Girl In The Bubble,” written by Stephen Lawrence Schwartz and performed by Ariana Grande. Here we find Glinda in her home, inspired to finally take action following the cyclone that killed Elphaba’s favored sister, Nessarose. It’s a sequence brimming with emotion and meaning, and one that took almost the entire production schedule (that’s both films) to complete.

“We started ‘The Girl in the Bubble’ during the first week of filming on the first movie because it was a very complicated sequence, and we knew that it was going to take us two years. It was a four-minute, continuous shot.” A weighty task, and one that needed to pull in all the eyes it could to make it work. “We did a lot of work with [cinematographer] Alice Brooks and used lots of props before we understood what we needed for the previs.”

It’s one thing to dream up a film sequence, but it’s another to make that dream reality. So with previsualisation underway, Helman and his team also needed to work out the real-world technical aspects of the scene.

“Once we had the previs, then we did a techvis, which meant taking a look at the previs and taking a step back,” Helman continues. “For example, let’s say we previsualize where the camera is moving and, BOOM, there’s a wall in the way, but it’s not a wild wall [meaning it can be easily moved and then put back]. On set, the director might say, ‘Well, move the wall,’ but then you’re wasting two hours of time and resources. Techvis will look at the distance between two points, how fast things will move, and where the blocking is. If you don’t prepare before the shoot, we might put the lens on and find we can’t focus because it’s too close or too far, or the camera doesn’t fit in the space and the director has to change the shot.” 

With the techvis in progress, the team moved to the actual set itself. “We went on set to look at what the camera was doing,” says Helman, “and we realized that when she goes up the stairs, the set would have to be stripped because the camera couldn’t get there. We’d need a 50-foot crane. So we’d have to take the wall out and build a CG set as the camera comes around.” As it was for the entire production, planning in advance was key. “You have to figure these things out beforehand. It’s not necessarily something that a director would look at, but the other departments need that techvis information as well.”

While there was a physical set with props, Helman’s visual effects team added a surprising amount of detail afterward. “The railing is created in computer graphics, everything behind Glinda is created in computer graphics, and once she gets to the closet, only half of the closet was built, so we had to build the reverse of that.” There are even different takes of Grande’s performance brought together for the completed sequence, and that meant more delicate work for the team. “We had performances that were morphed, so the reflections had to match those performances. There were morphs in the middle of it that were very, very difficult, so there was the nuance of doing that.”

Even after completing this technical maze of work and collaboration, changes were still required. “Once we were done, Jon and Myron [Kerstein, editor of Wicked: For Good] changed two performances. We had about seven different plates that needed to be stitched into one, but they changed two of them because they thought the performances were better, so we had to redo the layout. We had all the assets, but then you have to resync everything so that it works.”

That meant the team on the ground needed to be extra vigilant and imaginative to keep the pieces where they needed to be. “The on-set video assist was so important because they needed to play it back and flop it [reverse the image],” Helman explains. “The floppiness of it was mind-boggling, and you have to make sure that you have plenty of imagination because there’s a lot of compositing that goes into the sequence that can’t be done on set in real time. You have to do all the thinking before.” 

Nevertheless, the reward is in the work itself. “It took two years to do, but it was really satisfying,” Helman concludes. “It’s one of the reasons why I love visual effects. It’s that satisfaction, and I realize how lucky I am to have a job that is so creative, because a lot of people don’t.”

(Credit: ILM & Universal).

Read more about ILM’s work on Wicked here on ILM.com.

Mark Newbold has written for Star Wars Insider magazine since 2006, ILM.com, Skysound.com, and news site FanthaTracks.com, having previously contributed to StarWars.com and StarTrek.com. He is a 4-time Star Wars Celebration Podcast Stage host, podcasting for over 20 years, and has been involved in websites since 1996. You can find this Hoopy frood @Prefect_Timing.

One of ILM’s first visual effects supervisors looks back at the film’s mix of practical methods and revolutionary digital effects 40 years later.

By Amy Richau

(Credit: ILM & Paramount).

“The game is afoot!”

In 1985, director Barry Levinson and writer Chris Columbus brought a new tale centered around a teenage Sherlock Holmes to audiences with Young Sherlock Holmes. The film’s effects team, led by visual effects supervisor Dennis Muren, ASC (Star Wars: A New Hope, 1977), that included Kit West (Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981), John Ellis (The Goonies, 1985), and David Allen (Willow, 1988), was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Visual Effects the following year. The film holds a unique place in Industrial Light & Magic’s history. It includes an abundance of practical visual effects methods the company had developed and perfected over its first ten years, as well as the first fully digital character ever depicted in a feature film, a stained glass knight.

Young Sherlock Holmes arrived in theaters the same year as The Goonies, Cocoon, Explorers, and Back to the Future, when ILM was increasingly working on more projects outside of Lucasfilm. Muren recently spoke to ILM.com about the making of Holmes and its unique mix of old-school and groundbreaking visual effects.

Many of ILM’s biggest breakthroughs occurred during the making of epic blockbusters like Star Wars, The Abyss (1989), Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), or Jurassic Park (1993). However, because Young Sherlock Holmes was a smaller film, it became the perfect vehicle for testing onscreen photoreal computer graphics (CG) effects. Also key was ILM’s proximity at the time to a smaller group ILM founder George Lucas was running a few hundred feet from their offices – the Lucasfilm Computer Division, a portion of which would later become Pixar Animation Studios.

Matte artist Chris Evans (left) and visual effects art director David Carson in the ILM Matte Department (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

The Height of Practical Effects

The story of Young Sherlock Holmes follows its teenage namesake (Nicholas Rowe) and newly arrived John Watson (Alan Cox) during a year at a London boarding school. The duo discovers a series of mysterious murders that lead them to a secret cult in Victorian London.

The snow that appears in many sequences of the film, which today might be created with CG effects, was accomplished with practical, old-school methods. Kit West, who was in charge of many of the film’s physical effects, needed the snow to both look real and leave no trace after shooting wrapped. West, who died in 2016, told Cinefex that despite filming on location in the United Kingdom at Eton College, Belvoir Castle, and Oxford University during the winter, all of the snow seen in the film was made by the production.

For snow on the ground, West’s team used 150 tons of dendritic salt. Snow on the buildings was made from over 100 tons of magnesium sulfate that had “a glint to it just as real snow,” said West. High-expansion foam that evaporated after about three hours was used in larger areas to mimic snow, while falling snow was made from a biodegradable insulation material that consisted of finely chopped paper, deployed by agricultural grain blowers.

One of the quirkier characters in the film, retired professor Rupert Waxflatter (Nigel Stock), spends much of his time on-screen trying to perfect his flying machine design. Surprisingly, none of the shots of the flying machine in Young Sherlock Holmes include miniatures. West recounted to Cinefex that an aviation company that worked on the film Those Magnificent Men and Their Flying Machines (1965) built a full-scale flying machine with a 25-foot wingspan, which production then tinkered with to make it functional.

Getting the flying machine in the air included two 120-foot cranes. “They were tower cranes,” West told Cinefex, “like those used for building skyscrapers, one on either end of the flight path. We had a stretch cable between them, and the machine was on runners. We attached all our own runners and rails, as well as the raising and lowering mechanisms.”

Concept art of an anthropomorphized pastry that attacks young Watson during a hallucination (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

A Whole New World

One thing was clear from the beginning with Young Sherlock Holmes: Muren and the creative team behind the film wanted the effects to look as photoreal as possible. A challenge that, in the mid 1980s, even Sherlock Holmes could appreciate.

While many of the Computer Division’s projects at the time were focused on animation, Muren wanted to see if their technology could make the jump to photoreal effects. As Muren tells ILM.com, “I just needed to see if this technology had the controls necessary to make something look 100% real or not.” The sequences in Holmes that needed heavy visual effects were mostly split into discrete sections where characters experienced hallucinations, giving Muren the opportunity to use different methods throughout the film.

CG effects had been used in films by ILM before, most notably the Genesis sequence in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982), another collaboration with the Computer Division. But that sequence was intentionally not photoreal, and Muren knew from seeing other tests that in many cases reflections were too high, edges were too sharp, or the shots were missing essential shading and shadows to achieve a more realistic feel.

A CG test done by Triple-I ahead of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) involving five X-wings in flight increased Muren’s desire to play around with this emerging tech. “Triple-I’s test didn’t look photoreal, but they did a camera maneuver with the ship that there’s no way we could have done, and it looked pretty neat,” says Muren. “So it’s another temptation. This thing was out there, and I wanted to get it on a show and figure out how to do it.”

Muren decided to tackle the effects-heavy sequences as a bake-off, doing each one in a different way and seeing if a clear winner emerged. “With the stained glass man, that looks small enough, so let’s try CG, right?” Muren recalls, “If we find out in two months it’s not working, we can back off and do it another way.” For other hallucination sequences, Muren planned to use rod puppets in front of a blue screen and utilize Go-Motion with motion blurs.

Modelmaker Charlie Bailey creates an armature for one of the harpy puppets (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

Bringing Hallucinations to Life

The hallucinations in the film result from poisonous darts the cult’s leader, Professor Rathe (Anthony Higgins), uses as he seeks revenge against enemies from his past.

In one hallucination sequence that opens the film, an accountant, Bentley Bobster (Patrick Newell), sees his pheasant dinner attack him in a restaurant. After retreating to his home, Bobster sees the serpent handles on his coatrack turn into actual snakes that wrap around him and bite at his face. After the lamps in the room appear to start spitting out fire, Bobster leaps from his window to escape the flames.

In other hallucination sequences later in the film, Professor Waxflatter is attacked by harpy statues in an antique store. His niece, Elizabeth Hardy (Sophie Ward), finds herself fighting off skeletons at the bottom of a grave. Cameraman Michael Owens handled the motion-control programming and lighting for the harpy sequence, and the Go-Motion animation performed by Tom St. Amand.

A harpy puppet is photographed by a motion-control camera (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

David Allen supervised the startling hallucination that young Watson experiences in a cemetery, which manages to be equally hilarious and disturbing. After being shot with a toxic dart, the ever-peckish Watson sees a wall of pastries. After he grabs one to eat, it comes to life in his hands and wraps a vine around him, knocking him to the ground. The other pastries soon leap off the shelves and start shoving whipped cream into his mouth.

Muren directed Allen and his crew to use rod puppets to bring these pesky, chaotic, and downright naughty desserts to life. The individual puppets were made of rubber and were approximately eight inches high. Each puppet had rods coming out of their elbows, torsos, heads, and legs with three or four puppeteers moving them in unison. Notes Muren, “Each element was shot in front of a blue screen, so when we combined them, twelve pastries would be in the same shot.” Since each puppet was shot separately, it took two to three days to shoot the eight to twelve pastries that would appear in each shot with Watson.

According to Muren, the pastry sequence in Holmes is a throwback of sorts to the mouse puppet Topo Gigio, who was manipulated by black rods in front of a black background in the early days of television. “It’s all how you angle it,” says Muren, “how you frame the shot. If you shoot the wrong way, you can have a rod go in front of the carrier’s face. So all the performances have to be manipulated to make sure the rods don’t go in front of the figures, or else you’ll see this black thing that will tip off audiences. It’s not using Go-Motion. It was all done by hand and mostly at real speed. I think at times we slowed it down to make it look a little more staccato from what the puppeteers could do. Adding a little more whimsy to it.”

Before sending the shots to the rotoscope department to remove the rods and the puppeteers, they stacked black-and-white footage of the multiple puppets and viewed the scene on a Moviola to make sure the performance had worked out as expected. Shots then went to optical for matting work and printing. “It was complicated. It’s not against black like the spaceships in Star Wars, so it was pretty difficult stuff,” adds Muren.

The ILM team puppeteers one of the anthropomorphized pastries (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

Six Months for Seven Shots

The Lucasfilm Computer Division, via its graphics group, had previously created a terraforming planet simulation, better known as the “Genesis demo sequence,” for The Wrath of Khan and a CG spinning hologram of the Death Star in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983).

Muren went into the stained glass knight sequence – where a knight jumps out of a stained glass window in a church and walks towards a priest experiencing a hallucination – knowing that creating it digitally may not work. They had to have a backup. And Muren had to sort out how a walking CG character might look. “Should it look like the knight is a walking, full-size, flat glass figure, simply cutout from the window? That didn’t seem very threatening and too literal for a nightmarish hallucination. What if it wasn’t flat but a man-sized three-dimensional glass figure of the knight? Maybe. We also tried some other ideas but nothing really popped.”

The one design that did pop came from Muren’s wife, Zara, who suggested that the knight could jump out of the window in its many individual glass pieces that magically reassemble without touching each other when they land, making something like a hanging mobile but without the strings. Each of the pieces could twist and turn to make up the knight’s figure which could be moved and animated as one menacing figure.

Eben Ostby (left) and John Lasseter of the Lucasfilm Computer Division ready a lighting test of practical stained glass samples, which were used as reference for the CG knight (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

To make the knight even more menacing, Muren asked the visual effects artists to make each piece of glass of an inch thick with sharp jagged edges. Some of the pieces were bowed in the middle, convex pushing out from behind, so they were domed and coming towards the priest, making it appear more aggressive. “Everything in movies is feelings,” notes Muren. “And if I didn’t feel it, and the audience didn’t feel it, then you’re just telling a story, and you might as well be doing it by telephone.”

This was all done before shading and motion blur in CG shots were the norm, and Muren leaned on the fact that the knight was a hallucination, so it didn’t have to be as real-looking as ships flying through space. The seven shots of the knight took about six months to complete and included some of the first digital composites.

“George’s graphics group had been making an input-output scanner as a prototype,” said Muren, “and that was so troublesome because it was so cutting-edge that it would often break down unexpectedly. I think out of every input scan, it was 10 or more times before it would make it through as few as 120 frames.”

The breakthrough laser film scanner was pioneered by David DiFrancesco and the Lucasfilm Computer Division and was later used by ILM on its earliest CG productions (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

The entire knight sequence lasts less than a minute in the finished film. It starts with a wide shot showing the church’s stained glass window bowing a bit before the knight breaks out and lands on the ground. While many traditional matte paintings made with oil paints were used in Young Sherlock Holmes to recreate exteriors of Victorian London and a pyramid temple, for the opening shot of the knight sequence, matte artist Chris Evans created the first CG image used as a film background. “I remember,” says Muren, “it took him a really long time to do it because the tools were so hard to use. The paint program was in existence, but it was very slow to use, to be able to paint and get the brush strokes right.”

After breaking out of the window, the knight’s 100-plus pieces reassemble as he lands on his feet, holding up a large sword. The next few shots depict the knight walking menacingly towards the priest. As the knight walks past the camera, audiences can see through the backside of the knight’s glass.

“It was all shot very traditionally,” explains Muren. “I shot a lot of plate backgrounds of the church.” In addition to footage of the priest, the location also had several candles and mist. When Muren returned from shooting, he still wasn’t sure exactly how they were going to pull this off or if it was going to work at all. “It could all hit a limit where the blacks or the whites never match. There were all sorts of things that could go wrong. I didn’t know what was going to work and what wasn’t. So I shot for any technique we were going to use.”

The next step in the process was getting the digital technicians to constrain their tools to what the eye sees on film. “A lot of what’s made for software manipulation, whether it’s brightness, camera movements, or distance, go to infinity,” said Muren. “So part of the process is constraining it down to what film records. We don’t want to go above or below what film records as black and white, even though the software could go beyond that. When it is constrained to the world of photography, then I can start to understand it again.”

Muren and his team also “cheated” what audiences saw through the glass of the knight at times. “What you see through the glass, let’s say a yellow piece of the knight, is brightening up the color that’s on the glass, not what you would really see if you held up all those color pieces where parts of the background of a yellow piece were blue and yellow. That would appear grey, which would take you out of the drama of the scene. So the whole transmission through the glass, what you see on the other side, is black and white. You can’t tell because it’s got this yellow, but it’s a cheat, just black and white to light it up. We did a lot of that later in The Abyss with the water snake, all the refractions in the rooms, we cheated all the way through.”

An animation pass of the stained glass knight seen as a wireframe (Credit: ILM & Paramount).
The final composite (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

All About the Blur

A key element to achieving realism in the stained glass knight sequence was understanding the importance of motion blur, where objects on-screen shot at 24 frames per second appear blurry as they are in motion. The problem was that at the time, ILM had yet to develop the ability to digitally render blurs. “We’re used to what those blurs look like,” says Muren. “They make things look fluid. That’s very important for an effect to look real because the rest of the movie has got that in it. I didn’t want the stained glass knight to look like it came from ILM, that it was stuck onto the background.”

To help achieve the blur effect, every frame in the knight sequence was rendered nine times in slightly different positions. As the render time in 1985 was so long, one primary frame would be rendered at a higher resolution than the rest to save time. The result was a blur made up of a number of static pictures. “So you put them all together, and you’re doing this 24 times a second, and each of these blurs has eight pictures in it that are kind of similar, but some are weaker on the outside, and some are strong in the middle – then it all looks like a normal blur.”

This experience pushed Muren and the Lucasfilm Computer Division to learn more and create the tools to execute their vision for the finished shots. “It was an introduction to them and to me,” explains Muren, “about what you could do. Motion blur, overexposure, underexposure, tracking or hanging the camera around. I hadn’t really thought about how you have to track the camera with the background. For a camera guy like me, who understands filmmaking technically, I could go in there and say, ‘Can we get this tool?’ ‘We need that one too.’ And they would 99% or 100% of the time come up with it in either hours, or they already had it, and they just adjusted something, or they could write something for it, within a few days.”

(Credit: ILM & Paramount).

A Wealth of New Tricks and Tools

It’s almost impossible to list all of the innovations and challenges the Young Sherlock Holmes effects crew faced during postproduction. The film not only includes the first CG character but also broke ground in developing digital matte paintings and digital compositing. In order for ILM artists to match camera movements from the live-action set into a computer’s 3D space, they projected footage shot on location in England with gridlines over it onto a computer screen. A new preview system gave creators the chance to work with a simple black-and-white wireframe of an image, so they didn’t have to wait for an image to be completely rendered to continue working on the shot.

To record the computer animation back to film, a laser scanner was used that could only print approximately one frame a minute, so each second of footage would take 24 minutes to complete. “I don’t think I rendered anything at 4K or even scanned it out because it was just taking too long,” recalls Muren. “We just did everything at either 1 or 2K. At least the tool was able to change and wasn’t locked into 4K, or we’d still be working on the film today.”

Among the most challenging shots to finish in the film was a panning shot of the knight coming toward the audience. “I think John [Lasseter] came up with the idea of panning the camera,” says Muren. “I didn’t even know if we could match the camera’s pan in the computer. When we shot it, I had somebody walk by and the operator followed as a reference. Then they shot the actual plate without the person in there. It took a while to get that, but it wasn’t hard once we figured out we could do it. It was somebody trying to track it manually every frame in 3D space because we didn’t want the stained glass knight to be locked into a candle that’s seven feet farther back. It had to be locked into them, closer to the camera.”

The final shot was a side view of the priest and the knight raising his sword above his head in a threatening way. Muren asked engineer Bill Reeves if they could add a glint of light to the sword blade for a dramatic end to the shot. “They didn’t know how to do that, how to put a light to reflect a certain thing, but they had all of the spatial information.” Muren suggested they track the shot backward, look at where the camera was, the angle of the sword, and then put a digital light there. “No one’s going to know that you cheated that light and it didn’t take a lot of time,” explains Muren. “That’s what we always do in moviemaking. What you care about is what the camera sees.”

Shortly after Holmes hit theaters, the Lucasfilm Computer Division was spun off into two pieces – one half funded by Apple co-founder Steve Jobs as Pixar, the other half as the digital editing company known as DroidWorks. In Young Sherlock Holmes’s 1 hour and 49 minute running time, ILM artists used just about every tool they had access to at the time, including a few newly invented ones. The seeds planted during their effects work would pay off in the ensuing years with a computer-generated water creature in The Abyss, the T-1000 in Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park, the latter directed by one of Holmes’s executive producers, Steven Spielberg.

Amy Richau is a freelance writer and editor with a background in film preservation. She’s the author of several pop culture reference books including Star Wars Timelines, LEGO Marvel Visual Dictionary, and Star Wars: The Phantom Menace: A Visual Archive. She is also the founder of the 365 Star Wars Women Project – that includes over 90 interviews with women who have worked on Star Wars productions. Find her on Bluesky or Instagram.

ILM.com is showcasing artwork specially chosen by members of the ILM Art Department. In this installment of a continuing series, four artists from the San Francisco, Vancouver, and London studios share insights about their work on the 2025 Netflix production, The Eternaut.

Supervising Art Director Fred Palacio

During pre-production, one of the key ideas here was to show how the characters were trapped in the city, isolated from the external world. The snow here is the first lethal weapon that killed most of the population, but something else is happening. A barricade along the Puente Saavedra shows that something else is happening, something more extraordinary. This keyframe shows the character isolated against all the odds, the snow, the loneliness, the urban chaos. 

One of the most important things working on the project was to have the vision of the people who live there when this is happening. The Client and the novelist were from Argentina where the film is played. So the first step for authenticity was to become immersed in the Argentinian world. Diving into memories of the city I visited and merging with an exact location, walking through street views online. Finally, translating the situation into a frame, one by isolating the character, but also using the bridge to undermine his power, the point of view and camera position is determinant to sell the situation of the character. 

The resilience to overcome the giant wall made of all sorts of human-made things to suggest the Alien presence, even the sign in the bridge is a message to the viewer translating “everything has a prelude.” The element here needs to reflect how an ordinary man in an ordinary world resists all the extraordinary events and obstacles. The green bag means a forward action, the red light tells not to go back, the perspective of the bridge points back to the car and another figure hinting to cohesion…all these elements tell something about the story but also about the character’s attitude toward those obstacles.

Art Director Amy Beth Christenson

This is an early study for a specific neighborhood in Buenos Aires, just after the snowfall, where Juan is discovering the aftermath. I worked to position cars and people so that it conveyed a sense that what happened was sudden and unexpected. I researched the original comic quite a bit, and also did a lot of research to make sure that the specific neighborhood was accurate so that it felt very real.

I like the sense of a rosy pre-dawn, almost peacefulness to the scene, which is a contrast to what has happened. Looking at the day-to-day life images of people, and thinking about what it would look like if they were taken mid-stride, gave me ideas, like a woman walking her dog, people carrying groceries, etc., which helped the images feel more eerie.

I was on the project just for the very early initial concepts, specific to the immediate aftermath of the snowfall, and what those moments might look and feel like, and didn’t iterate beyond these. At these early stages, I wanted to get ideas for lighting and composition down early, and worry about details later.

Art Director Tyler Scarlet

This piece depicts alien creatures that are about two feet tall and who can work in a pack. The client really liked the look of microscopic dust mites, so I used that as a starting point and expanded from there. They responded to different elements from my first round, so I worked on combining the hard-shelled version with one that looked similar to a dust mite. The next step was to show it in action. I explored concepts of it attacking people, wrapping bodies in its web, and dragging them away. They are also scavengers so I did an illustration showing that as well. 

For the first pass I wanted to give the client a range of different types of creatures while still fitting the brief of a six-limbed dust mite-like creature. One version was very close to a realistic, large dust mite, another version had a hard shell, jointed legs and claws at the end of its limbs to grip onto its prey, and the third version was more aerodynamic and looked like it was built to move fast. I like how it looks when it’s coiling its web around its victim! [laughs]

This client was one of my favorites I have worked with. They came to every meeting with such excitement, passion, and appreciation. 

See the complete gallery of concept art from The Eternaut here on ILM.com.

Learn more about the ILM Art Department.

Continuing a new series celebrating ILM’s 50-year legacy, featuring new interviews with ILM animation supervisors Rob Coleman, Mathieu Vig, and Stephen King.

By Jamie Benning

Ultraman and Nemi (Credit: Tsuburaya Productions & Netflix).

“ILM Evolutions” is an ILM.com exclusive series exploring a range of visual effects disciplines and examples from Industrial Light & Magic’s 50 years of innovative storytelling. Read part one of this story here.

After Rango (2011), ILM continued to focus on photoreal visual effects work, but the idea of returning to feature animation remained alive in the background. The ambition had been there for some time.

“Jim Morris [former ILM president] was always pushing for ILM to do more feature animation,” explains Rob Coleman, creative director and animation supervisor at ILM’s Sydney studio. “I remember going on senior staff retreats for years, and every year he brought it up that that was a goal for him.”

At one stage during the early 2000s, an animated Frankenstein film was in development, though it never reached production. Despite that momentum, feature animation remained secondary to ILM’s core live-action visual effects business.

When Disney acquired Lucasfilm in 2012, ILM found itself part of a larger family including not just Lucasfilm Animation, but also two giants of feature animation – Walt Disney Animation Studios and Pixar, the latter an outgrowth of a former Lucasfilm division. With such formidable in-house animation studios under the same corporate umbrella, the idea of ILM producing its own fully-animated features inevitably became more complex. For the time being, ILM leaned into its core strength: pioneering visual effects work that has long been integral to live-action storytelling.But then…“People weren’t shooting movies,” Coleman recalls. “The pandemic opened a door.” That led to renewed interest in feature animation from partner film studios. Soon, both Ultraman: Rising (2024) and Transformers One (2024) were underway.

A Return to Feature Animation with ‘Ultraman: Rising’

For decades, ILM had been at the forefront of visual-effects-based animation, but Ultraman: Rising marked a shift – embracing stylization while maintaining strong, character-driven storytelling.

Animation supervisor Mathieu Vig notes the challenge of moving from photorealistic creatures to a more expressive, feature animation style. “That was a very interesting challenge,” he tells ILM.com. “First of all, because many were eager to go back to feature animation. But a lot of people had never worked in feature animation, me included. So that was definitely a bit of a scary enterprise after all of these photoreal creatures and characters.”

Many of the animators came from big, effects-heavy projects and initially expected Ultraman to follow suit. “I think we were all expecting the movie to be about that. And we were ready for it. Then we realized it was not about that at all,” says Vig.

Meeting directors Shannon Tindle and John Aoshima helped align the team with the film’s more emotional and grounded tone. “They put me at ease very quickly,” notes Vig. “Because I realized how caring and how clear they were about what they wanted from me as an animation supervisor. They wanted to meet everybody. To talk to the team. They were both so clear and detailed. That way, we could focus on – does the animation feel true? Does it feel rehearsed or active?”

The directors emphasized performance-based animation first and foremost, even referencing unexpected inspirations like Kramer vs. Kramer (1979) to highlight the film’s emotional depth. “Despite the kaiju-sized spectacle, Ultraman: Rising wasn’t just about action,” Vig explains. “It was a story about family, identity, and connection. We wanted and needed to have believable characters, quite subtle acting. We wanted an interesting mix of something that looks stylized but at the same time has so much heart and groundedness. The animation reviews were always about character development. There was great trust on both sides.”

Ultraman does battle with Gigantron (Credit: Tsuburaya Productions & Netflix).

One of the defining aspects of the animation ethos is attention to imperfection – the small hesitations, twitches, and unplanned gestures that make performances feel real. “We always wanted to sneak in as much as possible. A little dirt, little accidents, a little hesitation when you grab something, scratching yourself when you’re confused,” Vig says. “Sometimes it was just a little bit too clean, a little bit too perfect. And we said, ‘Here you can add some very fine little moments where you can break the perfect choreography.’” Even quiet, dialogue-driven moments are given space to breathe.

“There’s one shot in particular that I really love,” he continues, “which is when Ken and Ami are talking in the restaurant and eating the curry. One-minute shots of Ken, explaining his life to Ami, and Ami listening. And again, nothing happens, but I remember seeing the first blocking of this shot. I was kind of mesmerized by how beautifully ‘nothing happening’ was done. Obviously, it’s not ‘nothing.’ There was a story behind it, but to make that moment engrossing and entertaining was quite something.”

This drive for grounded performance often meant starting from realism, then dialing it back into a stylized world. It became a creative muscle that benefited both the film and the artists.

“We always started with realistic acting and then tried to bring it back down to a feature animation, Ultraman style,” adds Vig. “If the whole team were a classically trained feature animation team, we would have probably worked in the opposite way. I think it’s a very good exercise, and it totally benefits us for future work in visual effects realism because we all went through this process of filtering the shot back to its essence, rather than saying, ‘I’m just going to fill it up with animation.’ We’ve been spoiled. I hope we can be spoiled again. Whether it’s robots, giant kaijus, whatever else, if you have these living, breathing characters, we can do them at ILM. And we’d all love to do more.” Ultraman: Rising wasn’t just a return to feature animation for ILM – it was a chance to apply decades of performance-focused visual effects expertise to a new kind of storytelling, and to remind themselves, and audiences, what’s possible when stylization and sincerity meet on screen.

Building an Animated Cybertron: ‘Transformers One’

For Rob Coleman, Transformers One marked both a creative opportunity and a personal return. Having previously worked as animation director on Happy Feet Two (2011) and as head of animation at Animal Logic for The LEGO Movie (2014), he was drawn back to ILM by a renewed promise: that the studio would once again pursue full-length animated storytelling alongside its groundbreaking visual effects work. “ILM was going to be doing animated features as well as visual effects,” he explains to ILM.com. “That’s what enticed me back.”

Unlike the live-action Transformers films, which blended human characters with visual effects, Transformers One is set entirely on Cybertron. The film focuses on the emotional backstory of two iconic characters, in a world without any human frame of reference.

“Director Josh Cooley made it clear from the beginning – this wasn’t part of the Michael Bay universe,” Coleman said. “It was an origin story about two friends, basically brothers, who, because of life decisions, end up on very different paths.”

A group of Autobots (Credit: Paramount).

This character-driven approach brought performance to the forefront of the animation process. ILM animation supervisor Stephen King emphasizes the importance of expressing emotional depth without relying solely on dialogue. “It was essential to Josh that the subtlety and the nonverbal acting was just as important as what they were talking about in the dialogue,” King tells ILM.com. “In order for an audience to connect to an animated character, you have to bring them to life and make the audience believe that they’re thinking.”

That philosophy extended to every aspect of the film’s design and animation style. For Coleman, making the robots believable also meant starting with their inner life, not just their external mechanics. “It was key that the audience think they were looking at sentient robots,” he notes. “We always thought about the life spark inside – the character’s soul.”

To support this, ILM developed new tools and techniques. Their facial animation system was rebuilt from the ground up, allowing animators more expressive control while maintaining the precision required for robotic characters. “We really tried to get the facial performance to be as emotional and realistic as possible,” King says, “but then going, well, how can we make it robotic? We added these little robotic movements into the eyes and treated them like camera apertures and shutters.“By rebuilding the facial system, it gave animators a lot more freedom to move things around,” he adds. “Transformers One was all keyframe animated. For character performances, that’s where I want to be.”

Cooley’s background at Pixar helped shape the film’s animation language, particularly in its reliance on visual storytelling and expressive silence. “Very quickly we talked about non-verbal performances, the importance of eye animation, and his desire to play the whole third act, at least in test screenings, with no sound, completely in pantomime,” Coleman recalls. “I was like, yes, yes, and yes. Okay, you and I are going to get along just fine.”

The choice to exclude human characters offered an unexpected advantage: Without the need to establish scale or interaction with live-action actors, the animators were free to define their own physical rules for the world of Cybertron.

Optimus Prime (Credit: Paramount).

“Not having humans in our movie actually was a great plus for us,” King says. “The Transformers being 24 feet tall doesn’t mean anything to the characters, because that’s just how tall they are. That’s the world that they live in.”

To make the robotic characters feel nuanced and alive, the animation team relied heavily on physical reference. The animators themselves brought an additional layer of ownership to each shot.

“One of the great things about the movie is that all the reference was done by the animators themselves,” King explains. “Every shot, animators would act themselves or they’d get someone else to act out for them – and they would be able to put those performances into the character.”Even the mechanics of transformation – an iconic feature of the franchise – were reimagined through the lens of character logic and day-to-day function. “It was important to the director that this is like breathing for them – this is part of their day-to-day life,” says King. “So, we don’t need a five-second transformation every time. It’s what’s efficient for them, like getting on with their day.”

The result is a film that struck a chord with both critics and fans. Reviewers praised Transformers One for its emotional depth, strong character focus, and thoughtful storytelling, a refreshing change of pace for the franchise. Audiences responded just as warmly, celebrating its mix of high-octane action, humor, and heart. It is a reminder that even in a universe of sentient robots and shifting metal, the most powerful transformations happen within.

The Future of ILM Animation

With Transformers One and Ultraman: Rising showcasing ILM’s renewed investment in feature animation, the studio is now well-positioned to explore new creative territory. “There’s great interest,” Coleman says. “We’re just waiting for the right projects to land and get green-lit, but there’s certainly an appetite.”

“What this year [2024] has done with Ultraman and Transformers has really put ILM at the forefront of people’s minds,” King adds. “They’re calling cards to creators to say, ‘We can do whatever you want.’”

For Vig, the excitement lies in ILM’s ability to blend visual effects expertise with expressive storytelling. “Whether these guys are robots, giant kaiju, or something else, at the heart, if you have well-rounded, breathing characters, we can do them. And we’d all love to do more of it.”

From stop-motion animated creatures to fully animated features, Industrial Light & Magic’s journey has been one of constant reinvention and evolution. With its expanding tool kit and growing focus on animated storytelling, the studio’s influence is set to shape the next era of animation and visual effects.

ILM’s legacy in animation is secure, built on decades of innovation, artistry, and risk-taking. But the next chapter in animated storytelling is already underway, evolving frame by frame.

Learn more about the creation of Ultraman: Rising and Transformers One on Lighter Darker: The ILM Podcast.

Read more about Ultraman: Rising on ILM.com.

Check out Transformers One concept art from the ILM Art Department on ILM.com.

Read more stories from our 50th anniversary series, “ILM Evolutions”:

ILM Evolutions: Animation, From Rotoscoping to ‘Rango’

ILM Evolutions: Pushing the Boundaries of Interactive Experiences

Jamie Benning is a filmmaker, author, and podcaster with a lifelong passion for sci-fi and fantasy cinema. He hosts The Filmumentaries Podcast, featuring twice-monthly interviews with behind-the-scenes artists. Visit Filmumentaries.com or find him on X (@jamieswb) and @filmumentaries on Threads, Instagram, and Facebook.

New series exploring ILM’s 50-year legacy kicks off with new interviews featuring original Star Wars animator Chris Cassidy and current ILM animation supervisors Rob Coleman and Hal Hickel.

By Jamie Benning

George Lucas reviews a visual effects shot with ILM crew during production of Star Wars: A New Hope.
From left: animator Peter Kuran, production coordinator Rose Duignan, director George Lucas, animation and rotoscope supervisor Adam Beckett during production of Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

“ILM Evolutions” is an ILM.com exclusive series exploring a range of visual effects disciplines and highlights from Industrial Light & Magic’s first 50 years of innovative storytelling.

Animation has been woven into the DNA of Industrial Light & Magic’s story since its earliest days. From utilizing legacy techniques in Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) to the groundbreaking blend of live-action and animation in Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), ILM has continually redefined the possibilities of visual storytelling.

In this two-part article, we explore ILM’s journey from early work with rotoscoping, stop-motion, and go-motion to the development of sophisticated digital character animation in Jurassic Park (1993), the Star Wars prequel trilogy, and beyond. Part one focuses on the key innovations that culminated in Rango (2011), ILM’s first fully animated feature film. Part two examines how the studio expanded on these foundations in Transformers One and Ultraman: Rising (both 2024), solidifying its role as a leader not only in visual effects but also in feature animation.

Early Innovations and Handcrafted Beginnings

In 1975, as Star Wars, later retitled Star Wars: A New Hope, entered production, Industrial Light & Magic was a fledgling outfit assembled to help realize George Lucas’s ambitious vision. Animation quickly proved essential to the storytelling – Lucas’s needs were varied, including spaceship models firing laser bolts, glowing lightsaber blades, a holographic chess game, and stylized targeting displays.

To create the signature blaster bolts, California Institute of the Arts graduate Adam Beckett was hired in July 1975 to lead a small team in creating the animation and rotoscoping – including a young Peter Kuran. “I was initially shooting wedges and different colors for the laser beams and stuff like that. I was learning to use the equipment. We all were,” Kuran told The Filmumentaries Podcast.

“I actually did the first perspective beams,” said Kuran. “What was being tested was just kind of like back and forth – no perspective on it. I had suggested that we try that, and I actually got a very chilly response. So I decided to stay late one night and do a test and took it to the lab myself. It ran as a daily the next day, and [visual effects supervisor] John Dykstra liked it, so I wound up being the chief of that, at least for the time being.”

The iconic lightsaber effects were outsourced to Van Der Veer Photo Effects for the first film but later brought in-house at ILM. The process began by generating mattes from the live-action prop blades. Early experiments with retroreflective material and spinning poles proved too complex and were eventually streamlined. The mattes were rephotographed and colored frame by frame, with hues used to help audiences distinguish between each character’s weapon – blue for Obi-Wan Kenobi, red for Darth Vader – setting the look for the Star Wars saga for decades to come.

Lightsabers were created with hand-drawn animation in the original Star Wars trilogy, as seen here with Obi-Wan Kenobi (right, Alec Guinness) and Darth Vader (Bob Anderson/James Earl Jones) in Star Wars: A New Hope (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

“At first, ILM didn’t have the resources to do all the opticals themselves,” animator Chris Casady tells ILM.com. “They sent shots out to Van Der Veer, Cinema Research, and Modern Film Effects. Those places were the old guard – they’d done work on Logan’s Run (1976), Soylent Green (1973), that kind of thing.

“But the goal was always to bring everything in-house,” Casady adds. “And once ILM got the optical department up and running in Van Nuys, the quality jumped. We had more control, and it just looked better.”

Beckett, as described by Casady, “was without a doubt a genius. Adam was extremely brilliant. He wanted to be able to put some of his psychedelic style into Star Wars. He thought it was almost an obligation to one-up 2001: A Space Odyssey [1968]. But Lucas wanted something more realistic.”

Casady noted Beckett’s work on the Death Star superlaser charging sequence, explaining that “Adam did a tremendous amount of work putting together that Death Star laser tunnel shot – all those rings and green things flashing down the middle. It’s built up of multiple passes, multiple exposures, multiple pieces of artwork.” The platform on which the live-action actors were standing was completely hand-drawn by Peter Kuran.

Casady added that “Adam’s signature work is the electrocution of R2-D2,” an entirely hand-drawn effect requiring precision to make the electricity feel convincing on screen.

“I really was brought in at a grunt level to make garbage mattes on the animation stand at night to free up the VistaVision cameras in the daytime,” Casady explained. “Every time they filmed the spaceship on stage … everything outside the blue is considered garbage; it’s got to be masked out. So, my job was to make this matte and block out the garbage.

“On film, my mattes fell below the threshold of black, so it became black,” Casady continues. “Famously, when the film was first released on VHS … my mattes were visible in the negative. … The audience saw my garbage mattes as irregular shapes that jumped every six or eight frames. So that’s the only time people got to see my work on the film!”The animation team also solved another subtle but crucial challenge: making the miniature spaceship models feel more plausible in their scenes.

“There was a shot of a TIE Fighter flying past the camera, and they were concerned it looked too flat,” said Casady. “So they asked if we could paint in some reflections – highlights that would suggest the ship was catching light from the environment. It wasn’t baked into the model photography, so we had to add those glints manually, frame by frame, right onto the animation cels. Just little touches of light to make it feel like the ship belonged in that space.”

Animation and rotoscope supervisor Peter Kuran works with an animation camera during production of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) (Credit: Terry Chostner & ILM).

Kuran told The Filmumentaries Podcast, “I just thought that that was something that was needed.”

By the time Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983) came around, ILM was called on to create yet another iconic animated visual effect: Emperor Palpatine’s Force lightning. Composed of hand-drawn electrical arcs, the effect required animator Terry Windell to conjure a sense of living, dangerous energy – a visual shorthand for the raw power of the dark side. During his career, Windell brought his animation skills to Poltergeist (1982) and Ghostbusters (1984), among many others.

Though Peter Kuran had since left ILM, his company, Visual Concept Engineering, took on the painstaking task of rotoscoping each frame of the lightsaber combat between Luke and Vader. In total, 102 lightsaber shots were completed for the final film in the trilogy.

While rotoscoping and hand-drawn animation effects remained essential throughout the early 1980s, ILM was already looking ahead, seeking ways to evolve another time-honored technique: stop-motion animation.

As with the lightsabers and blaster bolts, the Emperor’s “Force lightning” in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983) was also created with hand-drawn animation (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

The Rise of Go-Motion

Before work began on Return of the Jedi, “Go-Motion” – a breakthrough in dimensional animation pioneered by ILM’s Dennis Muren, Phil Tippett, Stuart Ziff, and Tom St. Amand – offered a major refinement to traditional stop-motion by introducing motion blur, an effect crucial to achieving realistic movement. Unlike standard stop-motion, where models remain static during each frame’s exposure, go-motion employs stepper motors driven by a motion-control system. These motors subtly shift the puppet during the open-shutter phase, simulating the kind of motion blur found in live-action 24fps cinematography.

“The significance is that we got it working,” Ziff told Cinefex, downplaying the complexity of a system that required months of development before the first usable shot could be captured.

First explored during production on Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) and fully realized on Dragonslayer (1981), the process eliminated the telltale staccato of conventional stop-motion. 

Ziff’s engineering expertise led to the development of a modular rig dubbed the “Dragon Mover,” which connected to the model’s limbs via rods and enabled precise, repeatable motion sequences. Tippett, St. Amand, and Ken Ralston meticulously animated both walking and flying versions of the puppet, blending mechanical precision with handcrafted nuance.

“We started off with some of the more complicated shots,” Tippett told Cinefex, recalling the weeks spent programming movement cycles before finally achieving a fluid, natural gait. This meant that the process became easier over time, a testament to the artists’ dual roles as problem solvers. The result was a new level of fluidity and realism, particularly evident in the scenes featuring the film’s dragon, Vermithrax Pejorative.

The Vermithrax Pejorative in Dragonslayer (1981) (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

Blending Animation with Live-Action: A New Frontier

ILM’s reputation for innovation took a significant leap forward with Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Directed by Robert Zemeckis, the film demanded the seamless integration of hand-drawn, cel-animated characters with live-action performances and practical on-set effects. ILM’s task was to anchor the animated characters convincingly in the real world.

Visual effects supervisor Ken Ralston oversaw the technical and creative challenges of making cartoon characters interact believably with real environments. “The animation had to exist in a real world, with real lighting, perspective, and interaction. That had never been done before at this level,” Ralston told Cinefex.

“It was great for me because I am a huge fan of those early cartoons by the great Warner Brothers directors, Tex Avery and Chuck Jones. And when that showed up with the intent that Bob [Zemeckis]  wanted for it, man, that was a match made in heaven. And it was brutal, but it was great at the same time. It keeps you going. And when you see results on something that’s finally coming together, it’s a blast,” Ralston explained to The Filmumentaries Podcast.

Marking a turning point in hybrid filmmaking, they also decided to discard the traditional locked-off camera in favor of dynamic movement. To support this, ILM developed new methods to track live-action camera motion and translate it into data that animators could use to maintain consistent character positioning and perspective. “The opening camera crane shot proved to be historic. … No one had ever done a crane drop with a live-action camera and planted an animated character firmly on the ground,” Zemeckis recalled to Cinefex.

An animation cel from Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), created by the team supervised by Richard Williams. ILM was then responsible for compositing the animated characters with the live-action footage (Credit: ILM & Disney).

ILM and the special effects team constructed practical rigs to simulate interactions between live-action props and invisible cartoon characters. In one sequence, when Roger Rabbit turns a water faucet, a hidden mechanism releases a perfectly timed spray – a practical effect used to sell the interaction.

To match the shifting light within live-action environments, ILM tracked moving shadows and highlights, ensuring the animated characters were illuminated just like the actors. “If a light in the scene was swinging, … then the Toon characters would have to be lit in exactly the same way,” said Ralston. Animators relied on detailed lighting references to maintain visual consistency frame by frame.

Performance presented its own challenges. Bob Hoskins, cast as Eddie Valiant, was required to act opposite characters that weren’t physically present. “What I had to do was spend hours developing a technique to actually see, hallucinate, virtually to conjure these characters up,” he told Cinefex. To assist, Charles Fleischer, the voice of Roger Rabbit, wore a full Roger costume off-camera and delivered his lines live. “Although he was on the other side of the camera, I was able to talk to him as if he were right next to me. We could even ad-lib together,” Hoskins said.

After principal photography wrapped, ILM tackled the complex process of optical compositing while Richard Williams’s animation team in London produced the character animation. ILM integrated those elements into the live-action footage. “Every frame had to go through multiple passes to create tone mattes, shadow mattes, and interactive lighting effects. It wasn’t just a matter of drawing the character,” explained optical supervisor Edward Jones. “Every single frame had to be drawn, rechecked, and composited with multiple elements to make sure the animation fit seamlessly into the live-action,” Zemeckis recalled.

The result was a groundbreaking fusion of animation and visual effects that redefined the possibilities in cinematic storytelling. It was a winning combination of traditional techniques and innovation that was widely praised. The film won Best Visual Effects and a Special Achievement Award at the 1989 Academy Awards. Many saw the film as the zenith of the photochemical era, even to the extent that it was perceived as too complex to repeat.

In fact, it wasn’t until a decade later that ILM revisited this hybrid format with The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle (2000), applying many of the same techniques with enhanced digital compositing tools to a new generation of animated characters.

Actor Bob Hoskins (Eddie Valiant) is suspended before a blue screen on ILM’s main stage. In this sequence, his character interacts with animated co-stars Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse (Credit: ILM).

When Dinosaurs Ruled the Visual Effects World

While go-motion had proven a valuable innovation throughout the 1980s, it was the advent of computer graphics (CG) character animation that truly revolutionized ILM’s approach in the 1990s. In the last year of the decade, ILM laid the groundwork on James Cameron’s The Abyss (1989), animating the fully CG pseudopod – a water-based, tentacle-like entity. For Cameron’s next film, Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), ILM once again raised the bar with the liquid metal T-1000.

It was the digital dinosaurs in Jurassic Park that marked a true turning point – not just in terms of spectacle – but as a clear signal that traditional methods like stop-motion and go-motion were being eclipsed by a new era of photorealistic CG. ILM animator Steve Williams, who had previously worked with Mark Dippé on The Abyss and Terminator 2, pushed the idea of fully computer-rendered dinosaurs further. The results were astonishing. Steven Spielberg’s action-horror hybrid delivered creatures that felt real. Animals that moved and breathed with skin that stretched and muscles that flexed.

As a veteran stop-motion animator, Phil Tippett famously quipped at the time: “I’ve just become extinct.” The line – part joke, part reality – captured the profound shift unfolding across visual effects departments. Tippett’s line was given to the film’s Dr. Malcom, played by Jeff Goldblum.

A computer-graphics Brachiosaurus seen with live-action actors in the foreground in Jurassic Park (1993) (Credit: ILM & Universal).

By the time Jurassic Park hit screens, the industry had begun pivoting decisively toward digital techniques, a shift witnessed firsthand by animator Rob Coleman.

“There were only 6 animators at ILM for Jurassic Park,” he tells ILM.com. “It was the film that inspired me to cut my reel and send it in. … And I came in as ILM’s animator number 9 in October of ‘93 (4 months after the film’s release) when it was still very early days for computer graphics.”

To bridge the gap between stop-motion and computer animation, the team developed a hybrid technique known as the Dinosaur Input Device or D.I.D. This setup used a dinosaur armature fitted with sensors and encoders, allowing animators to physically manipulate the model while their movements were captured and translated into digital data. The goal was to combine the skill and experience of the traditional animators and strengths of the computer artists and technicians. While the results weren’t always ideal – much of the animation still had to be keyframed in the computer – it marked a pivotal step. The future of filmmaking was taking shape, frame by frame.

Animator Tom St. Amand (left) and lead animator Randy Dutra of the Tippett Studio pose with the Dinosaur Input Device (D.I.D.) used on Jurassic Park (Credit: ILM & Tippett Studio).

The Challenge of Digital Characters: The Star Wars Prequels

Following ILM’s work in the 1990s on films like The Flintstones (1994), Casper (1995), Forrest Gump (1994), and Jumanji (1995), George Lucas was getting ready to revisit the galaxy far, far away. This time, with a vision that demanded unprecedented integration of digital characters and live-action performances. The Star Wars prequels would become a proving ground for ILM’s rapidly expanding digital animation capabilities.

Leading that charge was Rob Coleman, by then an animation supervisor at ILM. He found himself tasked with something the company had never fully tackled before: nuanced, verbal performances from fully digital characters who needed to share the screen – and emotional space – with real actors.

“It was all those things, plus we didn’t have a staff that actually had spent their time learning how to do nuanced performances,” Coleman recalls. He would tell director Joe Johnston for Light & Magic Season 2 that it was Dragonheart (1996) that really set the groundwork. “That was a huge leap for us. George was watching, and when he saw Dragonheart, he said, … ‘We are ready to go.’

Draco the dragon (voiced by Sean Connery) flies towards Bowen (Dennis Quaid) in Dragonheart (1996) (Credit: ILM & Universal).

“Most of the people at ILM had been flying spaceships and doing robots and maybe having dinosaurs smash around,” Coleman adds, “but they weren’t doing verbal performances where they were to hold their own with Natalie Portman and Liam Neeson and Ewan McGregor.” And to bring multiple CG characters like Jar Jar Binks, Watto, and Sebulba to life in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace (1999), Coleman had to shift the team’s mindset. His growing team of 65 animators needed to think less like technicians and more like performers.

“We videotaped our actors so we had what they were doing physically, and we could look at them speaking to work out the lip sync. But pretty early on in Phantom Menace, I knew that I wanted to get into the subtext, not just the text. What’s going on inside the heads of the characters. If we could achieve that, we were gonna have believable performances, and the audience would have a connection with Watto, Jar Jar, Sebulba, and Boss Nass in that first film.”

The next major test came with Star Wars: Attack of the Clones (2002) and the digital resurrection of a beloved character: Yoda. Unlike Jar Jar or Watto, Yoda had already been established in the original trilogy as a practical puppet, sculpted by Stuart Freeborn and brought to life by puppeteer Frank Oz. Coleman’s team needed to preserve that legacy while updating the character with a broader range of expression.

“I went back and looked at Empire and it was nothing like I remembered because I’d grown up. It had changed what we expected,” Coleman says. “So what I was trying to achieve is what I remembered Yoda doing in terms of expressiveness and honoring how Frank moved him. Frank actually came by ILM, held up his hand, showed me the position of his fingers inside Yoda’s head. I had him pantomime some Yoda with me so I could see what he was doing.”

To ensure authenticity, Coleman and his team rigorously tested Yoda’s new digital incarnation. He recalls the moment he shared the first test with George Lucas. “There is footage of me presenting the first digital Yoda on the From Puppets to Pixels [2002] documentary. That is the real footage of me doing that, even though I asked the documentary not to shoot it. I’m so happy they did. I was really nervous, and I presented three speaking shots and three non-speaking shots on purpose because I was trying to show them that we could maintain performance without the crutch of dialogue. That was a focused decision because I knew from watching countless movies and TV, editors routinely cut to their action shots – the non-verbal reaction shot. I wanted to earn one of those, and we did.”

Jar Jar Binks (right, Ahmed Best) performs opposite Queen Amidala (Natalie Portman) in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace (1999) (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

That approach paid off. One of Yoda’s most effective digital moments came not during a battle or speech but in a quiet reaction. “There’s a shot of Yoda in Palpatine’s office where Palpatine says something, Yoda’s leaving, and he turns, and he looks over his shoulder, and you can tell he doesn’t trust him,” Coleman notes. “And that’s all in facial performance, all keyframe, frame-by-frame animation. It ended up on the movie poster.”

Coleman’s work continued into Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (2005), by which point ILM had solidified its reputation as a pioneer in digital character animation. The scope of the prequel work, in retrospect, still feels enormous to the animation director.“I kind of got swept up in it all. Jim Morris [ILM’s general manager from 1993 to 2005] had put me forward for the role. Jim had taken me aside, and he said, ‘I think you’ve got the right temperament to work with George.’ So he sent me over … and dropped me off in London for a two-week interview with George Lucas, which I passed.”

Decades later, Coleman is reflective about the experience. Even as ILM continued to push forward in their abilities to mimic life, it was paradoxically the artists themselves that felt like the imposters. “Twenty-five years on, it’s kind of surreal to think back that I actually did that. I know that’s me. There are pictures of a younger me doing it. And I have all the memories, but sometimes it feels like it was someone else.”

Animation director Rob Coleman at work on The Phantom Menace (Credit: ILM).

Cursed Flesh and Living Tentacles: The Pirates Breakthrough

When Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003) set sail, ILM faced a major challenge. Bringing the cursed crew of the Black Pearl to life wasn’t just about creating convincing skeletons – it was about making them believable next to live-action characters.

Hal Hickel, animation supervisor, explains to ILM.com that “It was a really complicated problem because the idea was that under moonlight these guys are skeletons, but in shadow, they’re flesh and blood.” Each shot became a complex blend of live-action photography and animation, requiring seamless transitions between the two. “You couldn’t just cut to them and show them in full skeletal form under neutral lighting,” he said. “It all had to be motivated by the lighting in the scene.”

The work paid off, but it was only the beginning. For the sequel, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006), director Gore Verbinski raised the bar with Davy Jones and his crew. These characters were fully digital – and fully expected to carry the emotional weight of their scenes.

Speaking about Bill Nighy’s portrayal of Davy Jones, Hickel notes that “Bill gave such a brilliant performance. We didn’t want to lose any of the little stuff. The slight squint of an eye, the tiny sneer.” Rather than relying solely on motion capture, the team blended Nighy’s reference footage with keyframe animation, ensuring that none of his subtle acting choices were lost. “We wanted the tentacles to feel alive but they had to support the emotion in his face, not steal focus.”

Davy Jones (Bill Nighy) in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006) (Credit: ILM & Disney).

Animating Davy Jones’s tentacle beard posed its own technical challenges. “It was a mix of hand animation and simulation,” Hickel explains. “We animated parts of it for performance reasons, but we also let physics take over for the secondary motion, so it didn’t look fake or overly choreographed.” This approach required close collaboration between animators, rigging artists, and the simulation team to keep everything feeling realistic and responsive.

The complexity of Davy Jones and his crew pushed ILM to overhaul their pipeline. “We had to rethink a lot of how we built and rendered these characters,” Hickel says. Advances made for Pirates laid the foundation for ILM’s later work on projects like Transformers (2007) and The Avengers (2012).

Beyond the technical achievements, Pirates also marked a shift in how digital characters were treated on screen. As Hickel puts it, “It wasn’t just about creating spectacle. Gore trusted us to handle real character beats with these CG characters. It was an amazing opportunity.” Through a mix of performance, artistry, and cutting-edge technology, ILM helped create one of cinema’s most memorable digital villains. They had steered animation into entirely new waters.

The Leap to Full-Length Animation: Rango

After working with Industrial Light & Magic on three Pirates of the Caribbean films, director Gore Verbinski approached the studio with an ambitious proposal: to produce a fully animated feature. He had been particularly impressed by ILM’s work on Davy Jones and believed the studio could bring that same level of sophistication to Rango – a surreal Western populated by anthropomorphic desert creatures.

“We approached Rango the way we approach live-action visual effects,” visual effects supervisor John Knoll told Cinefex, “building out environments with a cinematic mindset rather than adhering to the rigid, modular workflow of conventional animated features.”

A defining innovation was the film’s approach to lighting and cinematography. Renowned director of photography Roger Deakins consulted on the project, bringing principles of real-world filmmaking into the animated space. “We lit Rango the way we’d light a live-action film, with practical principles of cinematography in mind,” Deakins told Cinefex.

Rango‘s (2011) namesake, as voiced by Johnny Depp (Credit: ILM & Paramount).

ILM’s animation director, Hal Hickel, emphasized that they wanted the characters to inhabit their world with mass and texture. “We didn’t want our characters to feel overly polished or weightless,” he told Cinefex. “Gore wanted them to move with a slight awkwardness as if they truly existed in this dusty, unpredictable world.”

“He didn’t want to go head to head with Pixar or Disney or DreamWorks or Illumination. If they’re all over here, he wanted to go over there, aesthetically, in every way,” Hickel tells ILM.com. “Gore understood that the look of the film that he wanted to do was what we ended up calling ‘photographic.’ So not photoreal, but definitely not cartoony – the shot glass with whiskey in it, those kinds of things all had this patina of realism. So that seemed like a really good fit with us at ILM.”

Rather than using motion capture, Verbinski shot sessions with the actors performing together in a theatrical setting simply to inspire the animation. “It wasn’t about mapping motion one-to-one,” says Hickel. “It was about understanding the rhythm, the beats, the subtle mannerisms that would inform the final animated characters.” The result was a film that felt authored – visually distinct and emotionally resonant. For ILM, Rango marked another turning point.

“We knew this was an experiment,” said Knoll, “but we also knew it was an opportunity to redefine what ILM could do. Looking back, I think we did just that.”

Lead animator Maia Kayser at work on Rango (Credit: ILM).

Having left ILM before production on the film, Rob Coleman is still captivated by Rango. “It came about because John Knoll and Hal Hickel built a fantastic relationship with Gore Verbinski,” he says, “and they demonstrated to him through Pirates of the Caribbean that ILM had acting animators, and Gore is an actor’s director. They needed the right director with the right focus and the right mixture of talents and just bravado to say, ‘Yeah, we’re going to do this.’ And to hit ILM at the right time to make it, I think it’s still a marvel. I went back and watched it a couple years ago. It’s incredible what they did and what they achieved.”

“Every animator I know who worked on Rango had a ball and tells me continuously, ‘Gosh. Let’s get another Gore film going,’” says Hickel. “Yeah, they ate it up. He just really wanted people to feel like we were all filmmakers. You’re not the visual effects people up there, and I’m the filmmaker down here. We’re all filmmakers. We’re making this movie together.” That sense of collaboration was an ethos that ILM started in 1975 and continues to carry forward to this day.

Rango went on to win the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature in 2012.

Follow ILM’s continued journey in animated feature filmmaking in part two of this installment of ILM Evolutions.

Read more stories from our 50th anniversary series, “ILM Evolutions”:

ILM Evolutions: Pushing the Boundaries of Interactive Experiences

Jamie Benning is a filmmaker, author, and podcaster with a lifelong passion for sci-fi and fantasy cinema. He hosts The Filmumentaries Podcast, featuring twice-monthly interviews with behind-the-scenes artists. Visit Filmumentaries.com or find him on X (@jamieswb) and @filmumentaries on Threads, Instagram, and Facebook.

The visual effects supervisor from ILM’s Vancouver studio shares insights about helping create new characters and bringing the streets of New York City to life.

By Mark Newbold

(Credit: ILM & Marvel).

Proudly displaying the most famous typographical symbol since George Lucas placed an acute accent over the “e” in Padmé Amidala, Thunderbolts* arrived in cinemas on May 2, 2025, to a fanfare of critical praise, bringing together a gaggle of questionably motivated heroes, including Florence Pugh as Yelena Belova, Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, David Harbour as Alexei Shostakov, Wyatt Russell as John Walker, Hannah John-Kamen as Ava Starr, Lewis Pullman as Bob Reynolds, Olga Kurylenko as Antonia Dreykov, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. Director Jake Schreier (who also helmed Star Wars: Skeleton Crew’s fifth episode) led the effort to create an adventure that thrills, engages, delights, and amuses in equal measures.

Thunderbolts* is a story that not only details the rise of a motley crew of rogues into the heroes of Manhattan but also the war Bob Reynolds fights internally as he battles to free himself from his dark alter ego, Void, with the help of his newfound friends. Industrial Light & Magic’s visual effects supervisor Chad Wiebe (Captain America: Brave New World [2025], Obi-Wan Kenobi [2022], Thor: Ragnarok [2017]), joins ILM.com to discuss the challenges of not only bringing a tentpole release to the big screen but also creating striking new effects for fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU).

“ILM’s work started back in May 2023,” Wiebe tells ILM.com, “when development work began with Jay Cooper (visual effects supervisor on The Eternals [2021] and The Creator [2023]) and a small team of artists, primarily to develop the look of Void. Then the WGA [Writers Guild of America] strike happened, and production went on hiatus for a while. ILM’s involvement picked up again in February of 2024. That’s when I got involved.”

(Credit: ILM & Marvel).

There can be any number of elements that bring an experienced supervisor onto a show. Wiebe explains how appropriate skill sets, personal interests, and timing align when taking on a new show.

“The production visual effects supervisor Jake Morrison and I have worked together a number of times and it’s always been a very collaborative experience, so I jumped at the opportunity to work together again,” Wiebe says. “On top of that, Sentry is a powerful new character in the MCU with a strong comic book legacy, and I really enjoy developing ideas for new characters.

“This was a very different film to the ones you typically see within the MCU,” Wiebe continues. “Jake Schreier’s vision was that it had to be grounded and based on physicality, not magic and energy and all the things you typically associate with superhero films. He didn’t want it to feel like any movie that we’ve seen before, so that instantly attracted me.”

As with any Marvel project set within the five New York City boroughs of Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, and Staten Island, the city is essentially a character in its own right. Whether it’s Spider-Man in Queens, Captain America in Brooklyn, or the Baxter Building in Manhattan, each location must feel authentic. In Thunderbolts*, we return to the former Avengers Tower, which ILM had to place within real-world Manhattan.

“There are two ways to look at it,” explains Wiebe. “One aspect is the kind of data acquisition you need in order to make these very tangible environments look realistic as if you’re standing there yourself, and the other is augmenting it with some very iconic structures such as the Watchtower, which needs to sit seamlessly within that environment. It’s a tricky thing to do when it’s a city like New York that people are very familiar with. When you’re building locations and areas that have a real-world counterpart, you need to do your homework. You need to make sure you get all the reference material to make sure you’re depicting it in the most accurate way because people will instantly spot things if you’re trying to cheat or fudge the facts, and New York holds a very special place in people’s hearts, so doing it justice was very important.

“The fact that they based Avengers Tower around the MetLife Building in New York was a great starting point,” Wiebe continues. “The Avengers Tower we’ve seen in previous films retains the base of the MetLife building, but the departure that we took on Thunderbolts* was that we redesigned the base of the tower so it no longer utilized any of the MetLife Building. We use the same city block and footprint, but we replaced it from the ground up. Beyond Avengers Tower, we also had to build vast sections of the surrounding area. The key is in the details and making sure you collect enough reference material such as digital photography, aerial plates, LIDAR scans – the whole nine yards to get as much data as possible so we can build out this environment to be a true depiction of New York City.”


One of the most striking elements of Thunderbolts* is a new character in the MCU, Bob, and his dark alter ego, Void. Both thematically and visually, his soul-sucking powers are a powerful addition to the film, taking inspiration from both the comics and the film’s director, Jake Schreier. The task fell to the artists at ILM to bring these concepts to life.

“It was a unique challenge to visualize Void’s powers without leaning into anything too typical or too magical. The way Void turned people into shadowed silhouettes being a prime example. It needed to feel like a subtle but impactful event,” says Wiebe. “There were a surprising number of iterations that we went through to figure out that look. We spanned the full spectrum of ideas, going from something that felt like a single frame flash, to longer, drawn-out versions showing detailed shadows projected onto surfaces in a variety of different ways. We tried different aesthetics before we arrived on a quick but impactful effect that had a complexity to its simplicity, which also relied on the audio design to sell it as this somber but impactful moment.”

The process from concept to completion required numerous iterations and refinements.

“We started shadow dev with Jay Cooper all the way back in May of 2023, and that wasn’t too dissimilar from what we continued to do all the way up to the final months of the show,” Wiebe explains. “With a pivotal character such as Void, getting it to a 90% or 95% point of completion is the easy part, relatively speaking. It’s dialing those nuances in the last 5% or 10% that’s a very iterative and collaborative process.

“There were some key shots that went through dozens of iterations,” Wiebe continues. “How much of Lewis’s performance are we preserving? How much are we shrouding him in shadows? How much specularity do we want to retain from his costume? It’s a fine line. You want to ensure you’re staying true to the actor’s performance because it’s so well done, but you have this character that you also need to convey as a mysterious, shadowy void, so you want to add that mystery and aura surrounding him without going too far. There was a lot of back and forth to determine what that balance should be. Once you crack the code, then you’re good to start propagating that through your other shots, and then the dominoes fall a lot quicker. It’s an important part of the process that we need to go through to land on that final look.”

With Lewis Pullman’s performance at the heart of the sequence, Void required a mix of disciplines to bring the character to life.

“A lot of what you see of Void relied heavily on a 2D composite treatment, mixed with our CG asset when we needed to add specific details to certain areas….so it’s a hybrid approach,” notes Wiebe. “We utilized as much plate material of Lewis as we could. We also augmented it to get some of the details that you may not have had in the plate. If there are areas that we want to expose, say a little bit of costume detail or parts of his cheek that we want to expose a bit of lighting information on, we would utilize our digital asset to help with that. For some of the wider shots where he’s further away or doing things that you couldn’t necessarily do while filming, those would be our digital versions.”


Work on projects like Thunderbolts*, with bespoke visual effects crafted for specific characters and powers, can lead to processes that are useful in future projects, something Wiebe is grateful for.

“Every project adds new tools to your tool belt that you can take from show to show. That’s what you build on, and that’s what you can offer up as things that you’ve already tried and have experience with. I’ve done a number of Marvel films, and there’s always a carryover of techniques, setups, and lessons that you learn from doing things a certain way that you try to improve the next time.

“In regard to Sentry (before he turns into Void), we really don’t know everything that he’s capable of yet, and I don’t think he does either,” Wiebe continues, “so a big part of Thunderbolts* was him figuring out what he was able to do and learning the extent of his powers. One of the key moments in the film was when he said to Valentina that he doesn’t need to take orders from her; why would a god take orders from a human? There were a lot of conversations about Sentry’s level of confidence and his attitude when he started realizing that he’s got these incredible powers. There was some exploration about how confident he should feel. Jake didn’t want him to necessarily come across as overly confident in his powers because he’s learning them from scratch, but he also wanted to play into Bob’s character, too, where he wasn’t a very assertive person. He obviously fell on hard times before becoming Sentry, so navigating through that was a bit of a challenge for him.”

Thunderbolts* doesn’t just feature Sentry. There’s also a burgeoning team of would-be superheroes to contend with. “Obviously, here you’re putting him up against a number of characters that have their own unique powers, and there are other superheroes that he shares attributes with,” Wiebe explains. “That was a consideration in this film, making sure we don’t mimic what’s already been seen with other characters. Sentry has unlimited powers; he can do a bit of what most of the other superheroes can do, so making sure that we didn’t share too much space with other distinct effects was key.”

Creating visual effects requires intense attention to detail and the necessity of watching a scene again and again and again, being as granular as possible to get everything exactly where it needs to be. Given that, Wiebe notes that because he already knows the story, “it can make it a bit more difficult to sit back and enjoy a project that you worked on at the movie theater,” as he puts it. “But the beauty of Thunderbolts* is that everything was so seamless; I was able to let it visually play out without any moments of scrutiny or second-guessing the decisions we made. It was very rewarding to finally see it on the big screen in all its glory with the final audio in a theatre full of people who were very excited to see it. There were people cheering and applauding at the end of the screening, which was super, super rewarding.”


The film is planned, shot, edited, the visual effects completed, the sound layered on, and the music scored, but looking back on Thunderbolts*, there’s a key scene that stands out: the fight in the former Avengers Tower between Sentry and the Thunderbolts which is one continuous shot.

“We shot the Penthouse fight in three sections and spent months doing previs to map out where the cameras needed to be and determine our capacity to shoot within a confined set environment,” Wiebe explains. “When Sentry ‘Force pushes’ Red Guardian through the window and back, it’s one continuous 45-second shot up until the moment he throws both Ghost and Walker out of frame. That was months and months of pre-production followed by months and months of post-production work. It really was a labor of love between a number of different departments within ILM and everyone who was on set making it happen. In terms of things that we’re the proudest of, that oner is definitely right up there and something we’re promoting in order to help pull back the curtain and let people see all the work that went into it.”

(Credit: ILM & Marvel).

Mark Newbold has contributed to Star Wars Insider magazine since 2006, is a 4-time Star Wars Celebration stage host, avid podcaster, and the Editor-in-Chief of FanthaTracks.com. Online since 1996. You can find this Hoopy frood online @Prefect_Timing.

ILM teams with Ben Stiller and Apple TV+ to bring thousands of seamless visual effects shots to the hit drama’s second season.

By Clayton Sandell

There are mysterious and important secrets to be uncovered in the second season of the wildly popular Apple TV+ series Severance (2022-present).

About 3,500 of them are hiding in plain sight.

That’s roughly the number of visual effects shots helping tell the Severance story over 10 gripping episodes in the latest season, a collaborative effort led by Industrial Light & Magic.

ILM’s Eric Leven served as the Severance season two production visual effects supervisor. We asked him to help pull back the curtain on some of the show’s impressive digital artistry that most viewers will probably never notice.

“This is the first show I’ve ever done where it’s nothing but invisible effects,” Leven tells ILM.com. “It’s a really different calculus because nobody talks about them. And if you’ve done them well, they are invisible to the naked eye.”

With so many season two shots to choose from, Leven helped us narrow down a list of his favorite visual effects sequences to five. (As a bonus, we’ll also dive into an iconic season finale shot featuring the Mr. Milchick-led marching band.)

Before we dig in, a word of caution. This article contains plot spoilers for Severance. (And in case you’re already wondering: No, the goats are not computer-graphics.)

Severance tells the story of Mark Scout (Adam Scott), department chief of the secretive Severed Floor located in the basement level of Lumon Industries, a multinational biotech corporation. Mark S., as he’s known to his co-workers, heads up Macrodata Refinement (MDR), a department where employees help categorize numbers without knowing the true purpose of their work. 

Mark and his team – Helly R. (Britt Lower), Dylan G. (Zach Cherry), and Irving B. (John Turturro), have all undergone a surgical procedure to “sever” their personal lives from their work lives. The chip embedded in their brains effectively creates two personalities that are sometimes at odds: an “Innie” during Lumon office hours and an “Outie” at home.

“This is the first show I’ve ever done where it’s nothing but invisible effects. It’s a really different calculus because nobody talks about them. And if you’ve done them well, they are invisible to the naked eye.”

Eric Leven

1. The Running Man (Episode 201: “Hello, Ms. Cobel”)

The season one finale ends on a major cliffhanger. Mark S. learns that his Outie’s wife, Gemma – believed killed in a car crash years ago – is actually alive somewhere inside the Lumon complex. Season two opens with Mark S. arriving at the Severed Floor in a desperate search for Gemma, who he only knows as her Innie persona, Ms. Casey.

The fast-paced sequence is designed to look like a single, two-minute shot. It begins with the camera making a series of rapid and elaborate moves around a frantic Mark S. as he steps out of the elevator, into the Severed Floor lobby, and begins running through the hallways.

“The nice thing about that sequence was that everyone knew it was going to be difficult and challenging,” Leven says, adding that executive producer and Episode 201 director, Ben Stiller, began by mapping out the hallway run with his team. Leven recommended that a previsualization sequence – provided by The Third Floor – would help the filmmakers refine their plan before cameras rolled.

“While prevising it, we didn’t worry about how we would actually photograph anything. It was just, ‘These are the visuals we want to capture,’” Leven says. “‘What does it look like for this guy to run down this hallway for two minutes? We’ll figure out how to shoot it later.’”

The previs process helped determine how best to shoot the sequence, and also informed which parts of the soundstage set would have to be digitally replaced. The first shot was captured by a camera mounted on a Bolt X Cinebot motion-control arm provided by The Garage production company. The size of the motion-control setup, however, meant it could not fit in the confined space of an elevator or the existing hallways.

“We couldn’t actually shoot in the elevator,” Leven says. “The whole elevator section of the set was removed and was replaced with computer graphics [CG].” In addition to the elevator, ILM artists replaced portions of the floor, furniture, and an entire lobby wall, even adding a reflection of Adam Scott into the elevator doors.

As Scott begins running, he’s picked up by a second camera mounted on a more compact, stabilized gimbal that allows the operator to quickly run behind and sometimes in front of the actor as he darts down different hallways. ILM seamlessly combined the first two Mark S. plates in a 2D composite.

“Part of that is the magic of the artists at ILM who are doing that blend. But I have to give credit to Adam Scott because he ran the same way in both cameras without really being instructed,” says Leven. “Lucky for us, he led with the same foot. He used the same arm. I remember seeing it on the set, and I did a quick-and-dirty blend right there and thought, ‘Oh my gosh, this is going to work.’ So it was really nice.”

The action continues at a frenetic pace, ultimately combining ten different shots to complete the sequence.

“We didn’t want the very standard sleight of hand that you’ve seen a lot where you do a wipe across the white hallway,” Leven explains. “We tried to vary that as much as possible because we didn’t want to give away the gag. So, there are times when the camera will wipe across a hallway, and it’s not a computer graphics wipe. We’d hide the wipe somewhere else.”

A slightly more complicated illusion comes as the camera sweeps around Mark S. from back to front as he barrels down another long hallway. “There was no way to get the camera to spin around Mark while he is running because there’s physically not enough room for the camera there,” says Leven.

To capture the shot, Adam Scott ran on a treadmill placed on a green screen stage as the camera maneuvered around him. At that point, the entire hallway environment is made with computer graphics. Artists even added a few extra frames of the actor to help connect one shot to the next, selling the illusion of a single continuous take. “We painted in a bit of Adam Scott running around the corner. So if you freeze and look through it, you’ll see a bit of his heel. He never completely clears the frame,” Leven points out.

Leven says ILM also provided Ben Stiller with options when it came to digitally changing up the look of Lumon’s sterile hallways: sometimes adding extra doors, vents, or even switching door handles. “I think Ben was very excited about having this opportunity,” says Leven. “He had never had a complete, fully computer graphics version of these hallways before. And now he was able to do things that he was never able to do in season one.”

(Credit: Apple TV+).

2. Let it Snow (Episode 204: “Woe’s Hollow”)

The MDR team – Mark, Helly, Dylan, and Irving – unexpectedly find themselves in the snowy wilderness as part of a two-day Lumon Outdoor Retreat and Team-Building Occurrence, or ORTBO. 

Exterior scenes were shot on location at Minnewaska State Park Preserve in New York. Throughout the ORTBO sequence, ILM performed substantial environment enhancements, making trees and landscapes appear far snowier than they were during the shoot. “It’s really nice to get the actors out there in the cold and see their breath,” Leven says. “It just wasn’t snowy during the shoot. Nearly every exterior shot was either replaced or enhanced with snow.”

For a shot of Irving standing on a vast frozen lake, for example, virtually every element in the location plate – including an unfrozen lake, mountains, and trees behind actor John Turturro – was swapped out for a CG environment. Wide shots of a steep, rocky wall Irving must scale to reach his co-workers were also completely digital.

Eventually, the MDR team discovers a waterfall that marks their arrival at a place called Woe’s Hollow. The location – the state park’s real-life Awosting Falls – also got extensive winter upgrades from ILM, including much more snow covering the ground and trees, an ice-covered pond, and hundreds of icicles clinging to the rocky walls. “To make it fit in the world of Severance, there’s a ton of work that has to happen,” Leven tells ILM.com.

(Credit: Apple TV+).

3. Welcome to Lumon (Episode 202: “Goodbye, Mrs. Selvig” & Episode 203: “Who is Alive?”)

The historic Bell Labs office complex, now known as Bell Works in Holmdel Township, New Jersey, stands in as the fictional Lumon Industries headquarters building.

Exterior shots often underwent a significant digital metamorphosis, with artists transforming areas of green grass into snow-covered terrain, inserting a CG water tower, and rendering hundreds of 1980s-era cars to fill the parking lot.

“We’re always adding cars, we’re always adding snow. We’re changing, subtly, the shape and the layout of the design,” says Leven. “We’re seeing new angles that we’ve never seen before. On the roof of Lumon, for example, the air conditioning units are specifically designed and created with computer graphics.”

In real life, the complex is surrounded by dozens of houses, requiring the digital erasure of entire neighborhoods. “All of that is taken out,” Leven explains. “CG trees are put in, and new mountains are put in the background.”

Episodes 202 and 203 feature several night scenes shot from outside the building looking in. In one sequence, a camera drone flying outside captured a long tracking shot of Helena Eagan (Helly R.’s Outie) making her way down a glass-enclosed walkway. The building’s atrium can be seen behind her, complete with a massive wall sculpture depicting company founder Kier Eagan.

“We had to put the Kier sculpture in with the special lighting,” Leven reveals. “The entire atrium was computer graphics.” Artists completed the shot by adding CG reflections of the snowy parking lot to the side of the highly reflective building.

“We have to replace what’s in the reflections because the real reflection is a parking lot with no snow or a parking lot with no cars,” explains Leven. “We’re often replacing all kinds of stuff that you wouldn’t think would need to be replaced.”

Another nighttime scene shot from outside the building features Helena in a conference room overlooking the Lumon parking lot, which sits empty except for Mr. Milchick (Tramell Tillman) riding in on his motorcycle.

“The top story, where she is standing, was practical,” says Leven, noting the shot was also captured using a drone hovering outside the window. “The second story below her was all computer graphics. Everything other than the building is computer graphics. They did shoot a motorcycle on location, getting as much practical reference as possible, but then it had to be digitally replaced after the fact to make it work with the rest of the shot.”

(Credit: Apple TV+).

4. Time in Motion (Episode 207: “Chikhai Bardo”)

Episode seven reveals that MDR’s progress is being monitored by four dopplegang-ish observers in a control room one floor below, revealed via a complex move that has the camera traveling downward through a mass of data cables.

“They built an oversize cable run, and they shot with small probe lenses. Visual effects helped by blending several plates together,” explains Leven. “It was a collaboration between many different departments, which was really nice. Visual effects helped with stuff that just couldn’t be shot for real. For example, when the camera exits the thin holes of the metal grate at the bottom of the floor, that grate is computer graphics.”

The sequence continues with a sweeping motion-control time-lapse shot that travels around the control-room observers in a spiral pattern, a feat pulled off with an ingenious mix of technical innovation and old-school sleight of hand.

A previs sequence from The Third Floor laid out the camera move, but because the Bolt arm motion-control rig could only travel on a straight track and cover roughly one-quarter of the required distance, The Garage came up with a way to break the shot into multiple passes. The passes would later be stitched together into one seemingly uninterrupted movement.

The symmetrical set design – including the four identical workstations – helped complete the illusion, along with a clever solution that kept the four actors in the correct position relative to the camera.

“The camera would basically get to the end of the track,” Leven explains. “Then everybody would switch positions 90 degrees. Everyone would get out of their chairs and move. The camera would go back to one, and it would look like one continuous move around in a circle because the room is perfectly symmetrical, and everything in it is perfectly symmetrical. We were able to move the actors, and it looks like the camera was going all the way around the room.”

The final motion-control move switches from time-lapse back to real time as the camera passes by a workstation and reveals Mr. Drummond (Ólafur Darri Ólafsson) and Dr. Mauer (Robby Benson) standing behind it. Leven notes that each pass was completed with just one take.

5. Mark vs. Mark (Episode 210: “Cold Harbor”)

The Severance season two finale begins with an increasingly tense conversation between Innie Mark and Outie Mark, as the two personas use a handheld video camera to send recorded messages back and forth. Their encounter takes place at night in a Lumon birthing cabin equipped with a severance threshold that allows Mark S. to become Mark Scout each time he steps outside and onto the balcony.

The cabin set was built on a soundstage at York Studios in the Bronx, New York. The balcony section consisted of the snowy floor, two chairs, and a railing, all surrounded by a blue screen background. Everything else was up to ILM to create.

“It was nice to have Ben’s trust that we could just do it,” Leven remembers. “He said, ‘Hey, you’re just going to make this look great, right?’ We said, ‘Yeah, no problem.’”

Artists filled in the scene with CG water, mountains, and moonlight to match the on-set lighting and of course, more snow. As Mark Scout steps onto the balcony, the camera pulls back to a wide shot, revealing the cabin’s full exterior. “They built a part of the exterior of the set. But everything other than the windows, even the railing, was digitally replaced,” Leven says.

“It was nice to have Ben [Stiller’s] trust that we could just do it. He said, ‘Hey, you’re just going to make this look great, right?’ We said, ‘Yeah, no problem.’”

Eric Leven

Bonus: Marching Band Magic (Episode 210: “Cold Harbor”)

Finally, our bonus visual effects shot appears roughly halfway through the season finale. To celebrate Mark S. completing the Cold Harbor file, Mr. Milchick orders up a marching band from Lumon’s Choreography and Merriment department. Band members pour into MDR, but Leven says roughly 15 to 20 shots required adding a few more digital duplicates. “They wanted it to look like MDR was filled with band members. And for several of the shots there were holes in there. It just didn’t feel full enough,” he says.

In a shot featuring a God’s-eye view of MDR, band members hold dozens of white cards above their heads, forming a giant illustration of a smiling Mark S. with text that reads “100%.”

“For the top shot, we had to find a different stage because the MDR ceiling is only about eight feet tall,” recalls Leven. “And Ben really pushed to have it done practically, which I think was the right call because you’ve already got the band members, you’ve made the costumes, you’ve got the instruments. Let’s find a place to shoot it.”

To get the high shot, the production team set up on an empty soundstage, placing signature MDR-green carpet on the floor. A simple foam core mock-up of the team’s desks occupied the center of the frame, with the finished CG versions added later.

Even without the restraints of the practical MDR walls and ceiling, the camera could only get enough height to capture about 30 band members in the shot. So the scene was digitally expanded, with artists adding more green carpet, CG walls, and about 50 more band members.

“We painted in new band members, extracting what we could from the practical plate,” Leven says. “We moved them around; we added more, just to make it look as full as Ben wanted.” Every single white card in the shot, Leven points out, is completely digital.

(Credit: Apple TV+).

A Mysterious and Important Collaboration

With fans now fiercely debating the many twists and turns of Severance season two, Leven is quick to credit ILM’s two main visual effects collaborators: east side effects and Mango FX INC, as well as ILM studios and artists around the globe, including San Francisco, Vancouver, Singapore, Sydney, and Mumbai.

Leven also believes Severance ultimately benefited from a successful creative partnership between ILM and Ben Stiller.

“This one clicked so well, and it really made a difference on the show,” Leven says. “I think we both had the same sort of visual shorthand in terms of what we wanted things to look like. One of the things I love about working with Ben is that he’s obviously grounded in reality. He wants to shoot as much stuff real as possible, but then sometimes there’s a shot that will either come to him late or he just knows is impractical to shoot. And he knows that ILM can deliver it.”

Hear more about Severance from Eric Leven and production designer Jeremy Hindle on Lighter Darker: The ILM Podcast.

Clayton Sandell is a Star Wars author and enthusiast, TV storyteller, and a longtime fan of the creative people who keep Industrial Light & Magic and Skywalker Sound on the leading edge of visual effects and sound design. Follow him on Instagram (@claytonsandell) Bluesky (@claytonsandell.com) or X (@Clayton_Sandell).

On this day in 1975, Industrial Light & Magic was officially signed into existence by George Lucas.

By Lucas O. Seastrom

ILM’s original crew for Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) poses in the front lot of their original studio (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

50 years ago today on May 28, 1975, George Lucas signed a legal certificate issuing his formal shares of stock ownership in a new company: Industrial Light & Magic. It’s likely the founder affixed his signature without pomp or ceremony. There was too much to do. ILM, as it would come to be known for short, had less than two years to build a visual effects studio from scratch and create nearly 400 shots in a new space fantasy film called Star Wars.

By that time in late May, Lucas had hired John Dykstra to supervise the film’s visual effects. The director had an audacious vision for creating dynamic images of spaceships dogfighting with each other. Lucas wanted the camera to move with the ships, as if the camera operators were up there to capture the action by hand. The idea broke many of the traditional rules in visual effects that typically required locked off cameras to allow for separate elements to be carefully blended together.

Visual effects supervisor John Dykstra poses on the stage next to a TIE fighter miniature (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

John Dykstra was practically the only effects artist in Hollywood willing to buy into Lucas’s plans on the existing terms. He’d gained experience with the type of equipment that would be needed to realize the elaborate shots of custom-built miniatures. Dykstra was also a free thinker with a sense of adventure. There were only a handful of effects companies still operating, and none at a major studio. Most balked at the proposal, decrying its limited budget, tight schedule, and seemingly unattainable goals. So Dykstra was tasked with establishing a new operation.

Lucas was a Northern Californian and planned to base the editorial side of post-production near his San Francisco Bay Area home. He wanted to do the same for visual effects. Dykstra argued otherwise, deciding to keep the new facility in Southern California where he had access to a network of talent and close proximity to third party film processing labs. So it was at some point in late May that Dykstra located and then leased a warehouse in Van Nuys, one of a number of towns that sprawled across the San Fernando Valley, a ways north of Hollywood proper, and conveniently removed from the overbearing presence of the established studios. 

Located in an industrial park on Valjean Avenue, just a block from the south end of the Van Nuys Airport, ILM rented a building for $2,300 a month from owner Bill Hanna. It was two stories, made largely of stacked cinder blocks, with a large asphalt lot in front. Inside were a handful of unfurnished offices and open warehouse space with high ceilings ideal for hanging lights. Early on, Dykstra would drive his motorcycle through the building, leaving skid marks on the floor. It was often oppressively hot, even more so once the tungsten film lights were switched on, and Dykstra initially planned to construct a pool onsite, but later compromised with a cold tub that could hold multiple people.

The exterior of ILM’s original studio in Van Nuys, CA. An explosion on the surface of the Death Star is photograped in the foreground (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm).

“It just popped into my head,” Lucas would recall about the name “Industrial Light & Magic.” “We were sitting in an industrial park and using light to create magic. That’s what they were going to do.”

Initially, Dykstra worked out of Lucasfilm’s offices in a bungalow on the Universal Studios lot, a few minutes drive from Van Nuys. Soon he’d moved to Valjean, working off the floor before furniture was acquired. He was busy recruiting. By early June, modelmakers Grant McCune and Bill and Jamie Shourt were hired, as were production manager Bob Shepherd, technician Jerry Greenwood, first cameraman Richard Edlund, electronics designer Al Miller, and machinists Richard Alexander and Don Trumbull. 

As former Lucasfilm executive editor J.W. Rinzler would note in The Making of Star Wars, “They all knew one another and had worked together before.” They’d worked on feature films with Douglas Trumbull (son of Don), or on commercials and other projects with Robert Abel and Associates. A later group would come from another commercial house, Cascade Pictures. Others came straight from universities where they’d studied everything from animation to industrial design. They brought with them aspects of the culture and methodology from these other places, together making something new and unique.


Before anything else could happen, the Valjean warehouse needed to be converted into production space and workshops. Over six weeks into the summer, they first taped out sections and then constructed the designated areas themselves. On the first floor would be the optical and rotoscope departments, a model shop, machine shop, wood shop, two shooting stages in the rear, and production offices in the front. Upstairs would be home to the animation department, editorial, a screening room, and the art department.

By July, optical composite photography supervisor Robert Blalack and animation and rotoscope supervisor Adam Beckett had been hired, as had a sound recordist and designer who would use ILM’s space as a sometime home base, Ben Burtt. By early August, artist Joe Johnston was setting up the art department (concept artists Colin Cantwell and Ralph McQuarrie had started much earlier, but each worked from home). Within a few months, a dozen people were on board, many of them attracted to join the project out of admiration for George Lucas, whose American Graffiti (1973) had made waves upon its release two years before.


The spaces were ready by mid-summer, but ILM’s work had only just begun. It would take them nearly a year to successfully design and construct an entire visual effects facility and workflow, including miniatures, motion-control camera systems, optical printers, animation cameras, and blue screens. “There’s a significant difference between coming up with a good idea and executing it,” Dykstra would say. ILM’s initial budget was roughly $1.2 million. Although time was of the essence to build the various equipment, distributor 20th Century Fox was slow to provide any initial funds ahead of the main shoot, which would commence in the spring of 1976. So for much of its first year, ILM operated with George Lucas’s personal finances, thanks to the momentous commercial success of American Graffiti

Former ILM general manager Thomas G. Smith would explain in his 1986 book, The Art of Special Effects, how “Outside, it looked like all the other industrial-style buildings in the valley. Inside, it was staffed with very young technicians, some barely out of college, few over 30, some even under 20 years old…. The doors at ILM were open 24 hours a day; technicians and artists worked without regard to time clocks or job classifications. They were children of the ’60s, and many rebelled against authority figures and traditional work rules. There were no dress codes and no specified work hours; designers built models, and modelmakers ran cameras. But there was a strong esprit de corps and feeling of purpose in the building…. The involvement was with the cause rather than with the money; somehow the group felt they were a part of something really important.”


What this group was about to accomplish in less than two years was anything but certain that late spring of 1975. If anything, it was “a long shot,” as Dykstra himself would admit. “It was very, very hard to say specifically what was and what wasn’t going to work before we built it,” he told Cinefantastique in 1977. “So we just had to take a shot at it and all I could do was bluff it and say, ‘Oh yeah, everything’s gonna be fine!’”

As would become the defining element of ILM’s success and endurance, it was the people who made all the difference. “It would be very hard to do Star Wars just by setting up an independent facility unless you had the personnel to do it,” Dykstra said. “The people who designed the equipment and constructed it made it all happen. Not only was it independent of studios but the people who were doing it are the best people in the industry right now.”

What began quietly with a handful of people in a hot, mostly empty warehouse would ultimately do the impossible, not just in the sense of its accomplishments on screen or the resulting accolades, but in its ability to grow, adapt, and continue innovating time and again. That story continues today at the company’s studios around the world. Though ILM has long since outgrown its original warehouse, it still attracts the same intrepid, curious people who bring their passion for image-making and problem-solving to multiple art forms.

Watch ILM’s new celebratory reel in honor of the company’s 50th anniversary:

Lucas O. Seastrom is the editor of ILM.com and a contributing writer and historian for Lucasfilm.

Read more on the ILM.com Newsroom.

Watch Light & Magic on Disney+.