Motion capture is an incredibly intimate technology.  For the performers on the motion side, you allow us technicians into your personal space to put you into tight suits in a strange process that we do our best to make seem natural and normal. Those of us on the capture side spend hours watching and analyzing millimeter subtleties of how a person moves their body and face to breathe the illusion of life into digital characters.

Often the moments between T-Pose and action are filled with expressions of boredom and laughter and sometimes just stretching and waiting.  Gestures of camaraderie between actors and the “invisible” crew that can be read in the most basic analysis of motion.  These are the unmistakable real human moments and the reason we do motion capture.

But sometimes those moment are heart wrenching in the most personal way. Through my decades in MoCap I’ve had the unfortunate distinction to have worked on the motions of two different actors who passed away during the course of a project.  The first was Michael Jeeter during The Polar Express. I can still recall the near elastic shape of his facial dots smiling. The second was Jeanette Maus. We captured her parts in both Capcom‘s ResidenEvil Village and iNKStories NY’s racial empathy VR piece 1001 Cuts.

In the latter case, I had additional takes that I processed after her passing.  I saw body motions which triggered the memory of her kind laughter.  I watched her reassure and encourage our child actors with simple hand gestures and hi-fives.  Dozens of unmistakeable moments of humanity sketched with dots and sticks.

Great performers embody a character that isn’t a copy of their personality.  Jeanette was neither a demonic cackling witch nor a racially biased school teacher, but you wouldn’t know that from her performances.  I can’t help but see behind the curtain and see a sweet and caring person playing each of those characters, and it makes me sad she isn’t around to bring more of those to life.

Thank you Jeanette, you were incredible. And to all of the performers I’ve captured over the years, I literally can’t do my job without you.

Rest In Peace Jeanette Maus