Outsourced Episode

Animation couldn't be made entirely within a single production company.

There were key animation, in-between animation, backgrounds, coloring, editing, photography, and so on...

With so many steps involved, there was no way they could all be completed in-house.

Many small studios didn't have the resources, either. Some animation studios had only an animation department and a planning department. Everything else—coloring, in-between animation, even key animation—was outsourced, either in full or in part.

Even large studios outsourced work to some degree.

It was the same as on Earth. The only studio with the ability and confidence to handle every step of animation production entirely in-house was the one everyone knew so well: Kyoto Animation.

Some companies outsourced because they couldn't afford to set up those departments. Many others had the means, but simply didn't want to.

Take the coloring department, for example. The work was tedious but not difficult. Give someone a color model, let them practice for a while, and just about anyone could do it. Really, if you wanted to, you could color too.

Outsourcing that step to a country with lower labor costs saved a lot of money.

Otherwise, the workload could become overwhelming. When several new shows were in production each season, a studio might not have enough key animators to draw all the key frames or enough in-between animators to do all the cleanup and in-betweening. It had no choice but to outsource some of the work.

When an entire episode's animation work was outsourced, it was called an outsourced animation episode. When only the coloring was outsourced, it was called outsourced coloring.

There was another, more unusual kind of outsourcing: a subcontracted episode.

When a studio accepted an animation project, it knew its own size and limitations. If it couldn't handle the entire series, it might hand a few episodes of a twelve-episode show—say, episodes two and three—to another studio. That studio would then be responsible for producing those episodes in their entirety.

And if there was a studio handling the contract, there had to be a subcontractor accepting the work...

"Our company has accepted a commission from CDD Animation Workshop to help produce episode eleven of Invasion."

Misawa Hiroshi saw that Gu Xue seemed a little worked up, so he lowered his voice. Awkwardly, he picked up a script from the table, sighed, and said:

"After our company finished Ore-sama, we didn't get any new projects. The only show we're still working on is the half-year adaptation, You Are My Hero, so we've had a bit of a lull. Some of our staff have temporarily had nothing to do. I don't know what happened. Maybe the people upstairs thought we had too much free time, or figured the animators they'd pushed up the ranks had matured after working on Ore-sama. Maybe they thought the final episode turned out well... Anyway, the company took this subcontract. Miss Mihara will still be the production assistant, and I'll be directing."

"..." Gu Xue looked very unhappy.

She'd heard of subcontracted episodes, of course. The studio that originally took on the project was called the lead contractor, while the studio that accepted the subcontract was called the subcontractor. It was nothing unusual. Many anime endings listed a studio under "production assistance"—that was an outsourced episode.

Outsourced episodes could be good or bad. A good one was about on par with the episodes produced by the main studio. Most people wouldn't pay attention or even realize it had been outsourced.

A bad one came from a subcontractor that passed the work on to another studio. That was a second-tier subcontractor. If things got even worse, there could be a third-tier, or even a fourth-tier...

If you were bold enough, you could make anime too.

What a load of crap.

Gu Xue really hated this kind of outsourcing. But she had to admit it was a necessary step for many small animation studios.

Newly established studios took on outsourced work to build experience. Once they had a bit of a team, they started taking on animation projects. Then they'd accept a project they couldn't produce in its entirety and outsource part of it... That went on until they were capable of producing anime independently.

Many animation studios had followed that path.

But the animation studio Gu Xue worked for, Snakehead, had already passed that stage. Why the hell were they still taking outsourced work? And if they had to take it, couldn't they at least consider the timing? The Anime Mirai project had only just gotten underway, and they'd barely wrapped up Ore-sama. Plenty of people hadn't even had a few days' rest. Taking on a subcontract now—were they desperate for money, or just stupid?

Seeing Gu Xue remain silent, Misawa Hiroshi smiled bitterly. "I'm just letting you know that the Anime Mirai project will be pushed back a little. I'm not insisting that you help us with this subcontract, though the client's requirements are quite strict..."

Gu Xue cut him off. At last she spoke, but her tone wasn't very pleasant.

"Even if I've finished the storyboards and character designs for Little Witch Academia, and you don't plan to change anything, that still leaves a month and a half. Are you sure the rest of the work won't run into problems? Even if the Anime Mirai project goes smoothly, what about that episode eleven of Invasion you just mentioned? Can you really finish it in a month and a half? What if you can't? Will you push Little Witch Academia back again? And then use the schedule for a regular TV anime to train newcomers? Are you really not taking the government's project seriously?"

"I know I sound arrogant saying this, but I'm the animation director for Little Witch Academia. Since you asked me to take on this work, I have to be responsible for it."

"...I'm sorry."

Misawa Hiroshi was silent for a long time, then said softly, "But that's how animation studios work. Often, before one project is finished, preparations for another have already begun. A studio like ours, stuck somewhere in the middle, can't afford to take risks. We can't get onto a production committee, so we only get a tiny production fee. If we turn down projects, we really won't survive."

"Taking on an outsourced episode right when the Anime Mirai project was getting started, squeezing it into an already packed schedule, really is asking too much. It's irritating, but I honestly couldn't refuse. That's just how studios like ours operate."

"..." Mihara didn't argue with Misawa Hiroshi. She just stayed silent.

She'd been in the industry for so many years that she'd seen just about everything.

The commercialization of animation had brought studios plenty of projects, but it had also driven them into a bottleneck, and even pushed them toward the abyss.

"Ah..." After hearing Misawa Hiroshi out, Gu Xue sighed. She wasn't a rookie, either. Though she'd chosen to forget much of what had happened in the past, she'd seen and experienced more than Misawa Hiroshi and Mihara. She just hadn't encountered anything quite this absurd before. Squeezing extra work into a project's preparation stage—who did that?

But one thing was one thing, and another was another. Once Gu Xue calmed down, she knew there was no point blaming Misawa Hiroshi.

"Tell me, what's the deal with that Invasion you mentioned?"

Thanks to Tiancai Shaojiu Mogu Miao for the 1,000-point reward, to the Pinnacle of the Native Gods for the 100-point reward, to Moyan for the 500-point reward, to akatsukiryuu for the 100-point reward, to book friend 2575 for the 500-point reward, to Color Charming the King for the 1,000-point reward, to TCY4507 for the 100-point reward, and to Xian Kai for the 500-point reward.

Thanks, everyone...