What’s It About
Cat is a solitary animal, but as its home is devastated by a great flood, he finds refuge on a boat populated by various species, and will have to team up with them despite their differences.
MOVIESinMO REVIEW
Most animated movies these days seem to fall into two main categories. On one side, you have the big studio films from Disney, Pixar, and DreamWorks, with their familiar styles and predictable storytelling—especially when it comes to sequels like Despicable Me 4, Inside Out 2, and Moana 2 that keep hitting theaters. These films have a similar trend, use similar animation methods per house, and the stories sometimes feel like we’ve heard them all before. They’re extremely well-liked and make a great deal of money, but after a while they do get repetitive. Opposite them are the independent studios like Laika (the creators of Coraline and Kubo and the Two Strings), Cartoon Saloon (the producers of Song of the Sea and Wolfwalkers), and the legendary Studio Ghibli (the creators of Spirited Away and My Neighbor Totoro). These make more artistic, creative, and ambitious films that critics adore but they usually do not reach the colossal box office numbers of their bigger competitors. They often work with less mainstream subjects or use special animation methods that distinguish them from commercial offerings. Flow, directed and written by Latvian director Gints Zilbalodis, is one such much-needed attempt to bring together artistic and commercial animation. It is only his second feature film after he created Away in 2019, but he is already emerging as a full-fledged mastermind when it comes to animation. Flow has a story premise that feels perfect for a Disney film (imagine Homeward Bound mixed with The Wild Robot and perhaps a lighter version of the video game Tokyo Jungle), but with a unique visual style and completely dialogue-free storytelling that makes it more reminiscent of independent art films. The movie takes place in what seems to be the not-too-distant future, in a world where water levels have mysteriously risen and humans appear to have vanished. Our main character is a black Russian Blue cat living in an abandoned house situated near a massive statue of a cat. Throughout the film, while humans are never seen, their previous presence is felt everywhere, leaving viewers wondering what happened to them and why animals now seem to rule this flooded world. One day, while exploring the nearby forest, the cat encounters a pack of dogs trying to catch fish in a river. Being dogs with naturally short attention spans, they notice the cat and give chase. After narrowly escaping, the cat returns to the safety of home, only to discover that one of the dogs—a friendly golden Labrador Retriever—has followed it all the way back. Just as this unlikely pair begins to interact, the water level starts rising dramatically. The Labrador spots his fellow dogs passing by on a boat and jumps aboard to join them, while the cat is forced to climb higher and higher to escape the flood, eventually reaching a point where there’s nowhere left to go. Just when things look hopeless, another boat floats by with a large rodent called a capybara aboard, and the cat seizes the opportunity to jump in and continue its journey. If you’ve never heard of a capybara before, you’re not alone! These fascinating creatures are actually the world’s largest rodents, measuring about four feet long by two feet tall and weighing up to 180 pounds. The film portrays this animal perfectly—extremely calm, passive, and mostly unimpressed by the chaos unfolding around it. As the journey continues through this increasingly waterlogged world, the animals accumulate more traveling companions. The cat reunites with the friendly Labrador and its pack, while also meeting a high-strung ring-tailed lemur who loves collecting random junk he finds floating in the water. They also encounter an intimidating secretary bird—a remarkable creature that stands about five feet tall with an eagle-like head, a white swan-ish body, and long crane-like legs. The secretary bird gets separated from its flock and joins the motley crew for a good portion of their adventure. With water levels continuing to rise, these different species must rely on each other despite their natural differences. Their boats become their only dry refuge as they search for somewhere safe to live, creating an unusual community out of necessity. What truly makes Flow special is how Zilbalodis tells this entire story without a single word of dialogue. While most animated films featuring animal characters would give them human voices simply to make the narrative easier to follow, Flow never takes that easy route. There’s no narration, no animal speech, and no human language whatsoever. The story unfolds entirely through the animals’ interactions, their body language, facial expressions, and their actions as they navigate this flooded world together. The animals behave exactly as you’d expect them to in real life—the cat often tries to keep to itself and maintains a cautious distance, the Labrador gets excited about literally everything from catching fish to spotting other dogs in the distance, the lemur fidgets nervously with its collectibles, and the capybara remains stoically calm regardless of the situation. The dynamics that develop between these unlikely companions feel so natural and believable that you might forget you’re watching animation rather than some impossible nature documentary. Zilbalodis wasn’t just the director of Flow—he also co-wrote the screenplay with Matīss Kaža, co-produced the film, and even co-scored the music. It’s clear he poured his heart and soul into every aspect of this project. The film works both as a straightforward story about surviving after an unspecified catastrophe and as a beautiful metaphor for beings from different backgrounds learning to cooperate despite having no prior knowledge of each other. The animation style contributes significantly to this realistic feeling. Nothing looks exaggerated or cartoonish in the way we’re used to seeing them in animated features. The proportions and sizes of the animals are accurate to real life. Their personalities come through entirely in their behavior and actions rather than through dialogue or songs. After watching for just fifteen minutes or so, many viewers report forgetting they’re even watching an animated movie. The film also features a beautiful “wallpaper” soundtrack and makes use of real animal sounds rather than voice actors, contributing to its unique atmosphere. The landscapes and scenery are well done, capturing both the wonder and the danger of this new world. While most of the film is remarkably realistic considering its flooded-world setting, it does descend into some more fanciful imagery at the end when the animals reach their destination. These scenes attempt to achieve a cosmic, otherworldly feel but can provide more questions than answers for some. Also, with the lack of dialogue to drive things along, some scenes do drag or sometimes feel lost in the larger quest. Despite these little issues, Flow is an amazing experiment in what animation can accomplish. It shows the narrative strength of visual communication without the use of words. The film has the creative approach and artistic sensibilities of an independent production but with a scope and ambition that goes beyond what we normally expect from smaller studios. If you decide to watch it, make sure to stay for the end credits—there’s a brief post-credit scene that completely changes how you might interpret the ending of the film. In a world that often feels flooded with similar animated movies following predictable formulas, Flow rises above as a shining example of animation’s untapped possibilities. It shows just how much can be said without saying anything at all and reminds us that sometimes, the most powerful stories are the ones that let us interpret them in our own way.
OUR RATING – A BROTHERLY 9