We can do things that we never could before. Stop-motion lets you build tiny little worlds, and computers make that world even more believable.
I think we all have a Wallace and Gromit inside us. Wallace is the part that has wild plans. Gromit is the sensible side, reining you in.
The nice thing about animation is that you can realise your inventions without understanding all the hard theory.
I have to admit to not being the greatest technician, but stop motion animation gives me licence to create machines that wouldn't otherwise be possible - inventions that seem real and actually work.
Get out and make films. There are so many cameras now to suit any budget, so there are no excuses.
Gromit was the name of a cat. When I started modeling the cat I just didn't feel it was quite right, so I made it into a dog because he could have a bigger nose and bigger, longer legs.
I always considered Ray Harryhausen's work so fine that it was way out of my league: in terms of realism and naturalism, in terms of animal movement.
If you respect the audience enough, they can take onboard many things.
When I was a teenager, my dad watched my films and told me I could go to art college and study animation. He made me see that I could do this for a living.
We have to look forward and keep filming new films and not get stuck in the past.
But I think people see 'Wallace and Gromit' as something akin to an elderly couple. These two know each other so well. Nothing can split them apart.
With some CGI, I think the brain slightly perceives that things aren't real. There's no gravity, the light's not quite real, the shadows aren't quite real.
Like my father, I would never as a child throw anything away, keeping old toys, electric motors and bits of broken machines under my bed in what I called my Box of Useful Things.
I'm always there at home thinking of Wallace and Gromit ideas.
After studying in Sheffield, I went down to London to do my post-graduate degree at the National Film and Television School, embarking on the movie that would eventually become 'A Grand Day Out.
My father, an architectural photographer, was an incurable tinkerer, maker and mender.
Americans like the British kind of quirkiness and the strange accent. They find it kind of cute or something, with a certain charm.
There is something about the Australian psyche that seems to like films that are slightly offbeat.
