Fueled by a sense of creativity that is as inspired as it is often deeply childish, Morgan Miller’s animated anthology Twillerama feels like an abstract of everything that has trickled through the cracks of the Oscar’s best-animated short competition. Twillerama is a collection of the best and the rarest animated short films, and is set to screen at The High Noon Saloon Tuesday.

From a completely straight adaptation of Brecht to perhaps the most creative dick joke ever committed to film, nothing that comes out of this night of animation feels uninspired or derivative. Animation gets an odd taboo in film culture, rarely getting the amount of respect that the highly involved and incredibly adventurous medium deserves.

Twillerama makes a fine case for the genre, showing off many of its most personal and unique nooks and crannies. Like the two New York rednecks (and former Onion writer, Todd Hanson!) who present the films during the short film’s animated segues and give each film an award. I’ll give five of my own awards.

Award for Most Seasonally Appropriate: “Mountain Ash” by Jake Armstrong and Erin Kilkenny.

Perhaps the most conventional of Twillerama’s films, “Mountain Ash” is as satisfying and authentically spooky as you could hope a ghost story could be. Through a series of short vignettes, the film shows a season in the life of a lumberjack who lives deep in the snowy mountains, as well as the wildlife that coexists with him.

At once genuinely unsettling and darkly humorous, the short film functions like any great horror story, picking at and playing with the patterns of a community, until the entire world comes crashing down around it. Gorgeously animated, and structurally innovative, “Mountain Ash” is fine October viewing.

Award for Most Done with a #2 Pencil: “A Place Better Than Ours” by Wally Chung.

Done with what appears to be only paper and a lead pencil, “A Place Better Than Ours” depicts the worst day of a man’s life in a legitimately nightmarish fashion, painting the world in a faint, ugly blur. The film is a true testament to the elasticity of the medium of animation.

It looks deceptively simple, but is as much a testament to detail and pacing as any piece of stop motion. It speaks to Chung’s talent and economy that a film made with such smalls means can create perhaps the most fully formed world and personality of any of the films featured in Twillerama.

Award for Most Committed to a Joke: “The Club” by George Griffin.

It’s hard to overstate just how innovative animator George Griffin is, a filmmaker who can neatly stretch animation to its barest bones. This is best seen in his incredible film essay “Lineage,” available online. He also made a film about a gentleman’s club inhabited entirely by penises.

When watching it, one marvels not just at how bizarre and audaciously tasteless the piece is, but also at how much thought he put into the film. There’s an odd, definite logic to “The Club.” It plays with many of the details of this universe, creating a deeply stupid yet oddly satisfying whole. Those who think they’ve seen it all after the ending credits of “Superbad” ain’t seen nothing until they’ve seen this.

Award for Most Engrossingly Honest: “Teat Beat of Sex” by Signe Baumane.

The most personal, and most drolly hilarious, of Twillerama’s films, Signe Baumane’s “Teat Beat of Sex” has the quality of a great graphic novel. Baumane is incredibly open and funny about her sex life, documenting a few choice encounters to best deliver her treatise on the male psyche. Baumane’s narration is refreshingly light and conversational, grounding the delightfully silly animation that accompanies it. Baumane’s honesty and warmth shines through, letting the film’s playfulness and silliness feel like a legitimate snapshot of her life.

Award for Most Headache-Inducing, Visceral: “Martian Precursor” by Brian Lonano and Kevin Lonano.

Short and sweet, the Lonano brothers’ “Martian Precursor” is all the glory of 30 years worth of gory science fiction reduced to roughly 60 seconds. Through aptly combining saturated live action, colorful miniature and fuzzy and hard to grasp animation, the film tells the tale of a homeless man and … his alien overlord? The end of the world? It’s never exactly clear what’s going on; however, whatever plot the film has is simply secondary to the hyperkinetic editing of the Lonano brothers, and the shots of blood and vomit being spewed onscreen. Genre fans won’t want to miss this bizarre and pulpy minute of pure practical effect glory.

Twillerama plays Tuesday, Oct. 28, at 7 p.m. at The High Noon Saloon for $5. Attendees must be 21+.