FLOW (Latvia)

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!

FLOW (Latvia, 2024)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTOR: Gints Zilbalodis
MY RATING: 10/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 97% Certified Fresh

PLOT: Somewhere deep in a forest wilderness, a solitary Cat barely survives a cataclysmic flood by clambering into a boat with an assortment of other animals; their survival will depend on their ability to help each other.


Nearly twenty-five years ago, Disney released an animated film called Dinosaur [2000] that was touted as being an industry game-changer.  The premise was revealed in a stunning, epic-length teaser trailer that fired my imagination.  Some of you may remember it.  Using state-of-the-art CG animation, and with no spoken dialogue, we watched as a dinosaur egg on prehistoric Earth was flipped out of its nest, carried away by scavengers, dropped into a river, swallowed and regurgitated by a fish, then plucked out of the water by a pterodactyl that soared over magnificent real-world vistas and plains before being dropped accidentally into a jungle canopy where the egg was discovered by a family of, I think, prehistoric lemurs.  A reminder: all with no spoken dialogue.

I remember thinking, wow, Disney is going to attempt the impossible: create a feature-length animated movie with no spoken words.  I was stoked.  What an experiment!  Hasn’t been done since Fantasia [1940]! And if anyone can pull it off, it’ll be Disney, right?  Imagine my disappointment when I went to see the movie, the opening scene plays out exactly as shown in the teaser, the lemurs peek through the foliage at the fallen egg, and one of the lemurs opens its mouth…and talks.  Not just human speech, but with a New York-Brooklyn-esque accent that almost sounded like Bugs Bunny.  Dreams shattered.

I mention that story because Flow, the recent winner of the Golden Globe for Best Animated Motion Picture, promised the same thing in its trailer: an animated film without words, starring only animals on a perilous journey.  I was skeptical.

Until I watched the movie today.  Not only does it deliver on its promise (making Dinosaur look shallow and childish by comparison), it sets some kind of crazy bar for mystical, awe-inspiring visuals that I would put on the same level as Avatar [2009] or Dune [2021].  Yes.  They’re that good.  And, according to IMDb, it was all created using only Blender, a free, open-source animation software tool.  Flow is a remarkable accomplishment.

The story opens with Cat wandering a forest.  None of the animals are named, of course, nor were they named by the animators.  They were all referred to simply by their species or breed: Cat, Whale, Bird, etc.  After being chased by some dogs, including a friendly Retriever, Cat curls up in the top floor of an abandoned, expensive-looking forest cabin with nary a human in sight.  Where are all the people?  No answer is given.

With ominous abruptness, a cataclysmic flood sweeps through the forest, leaving Cat and Retriever stranded at the cabin as the waters steadily rise.  Retriever hops into a passing rowboat occupied by the other dogs from an earlier scene, but Cat understandably passes on this opportunity and eventually finds itself sharing a second boat occupied by a grunting, monosyllabic Capybara.

…but this simple plot summary doesn’t begin to do justice to the experience of simply watching this film.  I am super glad I saw it on the big screen first, 3rd row back, so the screen filled my field of view.  The whole movie reminded me of the best oceanic scenes in Finding Nemo [2003], crammed with detail, lavishly rendered, so that you sort of fall into the world.  There are hints to indicate that the forest and the lands beyond, now flooded, were once populated by humans, but they have all disappeared.  Statues of animals.  Top floors of houses still untouched by water, but not for long.  And, on a distant hilltop, a massive statue of a cat, on which Cat must find refuge at one point.

The look of the film is something I’m not going to be able to describe very well.  Partnered with the smooth CG animation itself, the main animal characters nevertheless have a hand-painted quality to their coats and fur.  The virtual camera moves as if being held by a real cameraman, reminiscent of the best scenes in the first Avatar.  There is a magical, spiritual sequence towards the end of the film (you’ll know the one I mean) that took my breath away and rivals anything from Pixar or Studio Ghibli.  I may not know precisely what it means, but to be honest, I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now.  I just know that it is a spectacular scene.  There are subtle hints that this world may not even be Earth as we know it, or when we know it.  Mystery abounds!  I love it.

I must give special mention to the animation of the lead character.  Cat has moments of cat behavior so specific and real that, even if you’re not a cat person or watched umpteen cat videos on YouTube, you will recognize it as being 100% authentic.  For that matter, the same could be said of all the animals in the film.  I must be honest and report that there are times when, viewed through a lens of “is-this-realistic”, the animals behave in a way that does not compute with reality.  I highly doubt a capybara would be able to figure out how to work the rudder of a sailboat…and yet, in this movie, it does, and it’s fine.

Which brings me to the one problem I can imagine some folks might have with the film: the ending.  I can’t tell if the right descriptor is “elliptical” or “open-ended” or “inconclusive.”  Perhaps it’s a plea from the filmmakers for cooperation and teamwork in an age where uncontrollable outside forces are doing their best to prevent it; like these animals, we’re all in the same boat.  Or maybe that’s not the message.  The beauty of Flow is that the ending is subject to interpretation, thanks to the lack of dialogue simply telling us what it means.

Frankly, I’m not too fussed about extracting the message from Flow.  I am too grateful that a film like this even exists to lose sleep over its Deeper Meaning.  It is a film constructed out of wondrous sights that harken back to the days of Pinocchio and Fantasia [both 1940], when animators and filmmakers gave equal weight to story and visuals, and it’s one of the best animated films I’ve ever seen.