By Marc S. Sanders
It’s fair to argue that there is more imagination in less than ninety minutes of the 2024 Oscar winning animated feature, Flow, than a combined ten movies out of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Even more incredible is there is not an ounce of dialogue, nor a shred of a human narrative weaved into the storyline. Assembled with the resources of twenty-two different production companies, I declare that Flow is an apocalyptic film, completely humane with the absolute absence of humanity.
A small black cat roams a dense jungle area, maybe located in Western Asia, with only a need for exploration. When the yellow eyed feline is done for a day, it routinely retires to an upper-level window in an abandoned house. Someone, at some time, had an affection for cats as our main character is surrounded by carved out statues of fellow felines. The only threat is when it gets pursued by a pack of enthusiastic dogs. The cat has the speed to its advantage though, and it’s an absolute treat to follow the rapid trajectory through a dense green jungle, up trees, across branches, under leaves and up and down hills.
Cat’s normality changes however when a flooding deluge overtakes the land. Soon there’s no longer any dry ground to toe upon or a tall enough height to evade the sudden depths of ocean water.
Salvation arrives when Cat boards a beat-up sailboat along with a capybara, a lemur, a secretary bird and a golden retriever. Five different creatures will have to hold out for survival in a vehicle, unfamiliar to them, while learning to argue, cooperate and work together.
The craft of Flow is like no other I’ve ever seen. The animation was not completed with computer technology. IMDb states that it was done by means of a “Blender” method, which I’m not entirely clear on. However, I don’t require a description. The finished product had me entirely immersed in this perplexing world. I was as confused and worried as Cat, not knowing what, how or why the world suddenly changed and what can happen now.
Director Gints Zilbalodis, also one of the writers, includes perilous moments for our animals when a wave will tumble the boat suddenly, or an aggressive rainstorm will arrive. A member of the boat will often find themselves tossed into the depths.
It’s always a little alarming when a new animal boards the vessel. Especially nerve wracking is when Cat suddenly falls into the water among some of the most colorful fish ever. Cat has an undying resilience, but treading to the surface and getting back on the boat is never easy. Zilbalodis’s camera goes well under the surface and then back up just as you might when treading in the ocean. To swim in the ocean is not for the lazy or relaxed. Your body must always work hard. Trust me when I tell you I often felt a lump in my throat each time Cat’s perspective submerged into the dark aquatic depths with an absence of sound from a breeze or another animal cry.
The behaviors of the creatures seem to happen so involuntarily with an intrinsic nature. Both the sleepy capybara and the long-legged secretary bird find a way to control the sail of the boat. The bird can be especially set in its way. Cat and dog seem to develop a trust for the how the boat is steered by their fellow navigators. Lemur likes to keep to himself with the trinkets he selfishly hoards. His most curious item is a handheld mirror where he finds someone that looks just like him.
I was curious how the adventures of Flow would conclude. This is an unusual world and surely these creatures cannot last forever on a distressed sailboat with no food and no destination in sight except for a far away tower peak way beyond the visible limits of open water. I developed such a concern for each animal in this story, especially the cat. The helplessness of the meows and the retriever’s woofs had me terribly worried. When cat or one of the other animals gets separated, I was nervous if that is the last we’ll see of the comrades. Flow is a quietly beautiful picture, but it is also especially stressful. Being lost and confused with limited resources and no help has to be one of the most frightening circumstances for any species.
Homeless or not, all creatures have an environment they grow accustomed to. When it is taken away, it’s hard to rely just on instinct for an unwelcome change or interruption. Even a prehistoric looking whale endures a similar experience to the other animal characters. Yet, intuition and a will to trust has to motivate us to take chances and accept the necessity of risk. This solemn black cat has more courage than almost any talking Disney or Warner Brothers animal I’ve ever seen before, and its petite kitten size with solemn yellow eyes never sheds confidence. This creature knows the luxury of fear and surrender is never an option, not even when its friends are in danger.
The artistic design of this water world is so absorbing. Flow is full of gorgeous color as well as lack thereof. Every branch or leaf or sea creature or rain drop tells a story and enhances this world without compromise. The murky depths of the water show no bottom. When cat is underwater, often it feels like there is no top or anything waiting for his return. Nothing is simply black. Rather, underwater is only what can be seen in front of our eyes. Sometimes cat gets drifted off of the screen. Now I feel lost because cat is my leader. I want cat to find me. I have no capability in finding cat and if I don’t, I’m resigned helplessly in an endless, inflexible void.
Gints Zilbalodis’ film, produced out of the country of Latvia, is a masterful and crowning achievement. I urge you to carve ninety minutes out of your day to watch this glorious picture on the biggest screen you can find with the crispest surround sound set up available. You’ll find yourself on a tour of a place on the earth untouched by humans, while seeing how other creatures capably survive together.
One of the greatest animated films I’ve ever seen or been touched by.
Flow demonstrates there are no limits to our storytelling imaginations or abilities.
And…suddenly I’m a cat lover!
