The Sellotape hated us. It had very little care or respect for what we were trying to achieve and would willfully sabotage our finest efforts. Jacob Sutton and I went through countless aborted creatures. Gigantic, complex beasts complete with teeth and closely observed muscle and tendon detail. We tried dinosaurs, squids, bugs. We would spend two hours getting to a critical point when suddenly the whole creature would start to collapse into itself. Constructing these animals became a gut-wrenchingly tense pursuit, the most heart breaking game of Jenga, and I would end up tearing the creature limb from limb in a hysterical rage more times than is professionally suitable. There are a few lovely moments when you see the animals struggle, maybe their heads start to veer off to one side or their bodies start to droop. There was something sweetly optimistic about watching these things struggle but manage to balance themselves on their new 'Bambi' legs. It seemed that the less detail there was, the more magical the creature became. In the end the film became about evolution, not just in the literal sense but also of our process.—Gary Card

Richard Gurley Drew of St. Paul, Minnesota filed the patent for adhesive tape on this day, May 28, in 1928.