It might have been the state of the animation industry, or maybe because the more we thought about it, the more it just felt like a film. Not something to overdevelop but something we simply had to make. Fast. Imperfect. Honest. A film where the process itself mattered as much as the result. No permission, no gatekeeping, just an excuse to come together and create something real.
What began as a small idea soon became a crew of around 45 artists working nights and weekends. Every limitation of a zero-budget film became a reason to be more creative. We wanted to celebrate the craft of animation by blending techniques: painted backgrounds inspired by The 101 Dalmatians, simple 3D characters, crowds suggested through brushstrokes instead of heavy models, and old-school 2D effects. The result felt nostalgic, but still very much about the present. Artists worked across time zones, seasoned veterans alongside newer talent, all connected through a pipeline we could actually manage and render from our own laptops.
In the end, we made a 12-minute film in 12 months, with more than 170 painted backgrounds. Maybe it came from a shared fear of being replaced, or simply from trying to stay afloat in the industry. The film is about purpose, but it also became one. For many of us, it filled the space between jobs, or simply quieted the feeling of uncertainty during our day jobs.
Pigeons exists because we said we would finish it, and because everyone involved needed it as much as it needed them.