The best thing about the Pixar show is that throughout its duration, MoMA will present screenings of Pixar's films. That's not to say that the two galleries of drawings, pastels, collages, urethane sculptures, and storyboards—consecutive sketches illustrating the scene-by-scene action of the film—aren't worth lingering in. Our dominant culture is visual, not literary, and it's interesting to see the inner workings of an increasingly popular and versatile visual genre. As you follow the mechanics of telling an animated story, you can see why intelligent cartoons might well displace literary fiction. When we disparage a poorly developed character in a novel by calling him a "cartoon," we're saying that he's too general and abstract to be believable as a person. But the generality of a complicatedly scripted animated figure has the reverse effect. As the character deepens from type into a concrete figure, symbolic and specific meanings fuse. Novelists have become increasingly self-conscious about psychological categories. Cartoons, however, offer an evocative externality. The viewer supplies the interiority himself—out of his own.