A beautiful animated film both in its visuals and its heart, Flow is a deeply joyful experience that envelops you into a world both foreign and familiar. (Image: McKenna Paull)
By McKenna Paull | @mechllemac
Animated films hold a special place in many of our hearts.
The timeless stories of adventure set in Disney’s America and Aardman’s Britain are forever remembered and continue to be discovered from one generation to the next.
But what about animated stories from other countries and other voices?
Enter Flow, the latest from Lativian filmmaker Gints Zilbalodis, about a cat who is forced to band together with other animals on a boat after a sudden, Noah’s Ark-like flooding happens.
This simple plot, told with no dialogue at all, is occasionally predictable but nevertheless a joyful adventure thanks to the film’s charming cast of animals.
The antisocial cat encounters an adorable labrador dog, a sleepy capybara, a tantalised lemur and a mysterious secretary bird, to name a few.
Each of the animals highlights Flow’s strength as they learn to live together with great humour on the small boat.
The animals are also where the animation shines the most, with the detail of each movement bringing these delightful creatures to life. From the labrador scratching itself to the wide eyes of the cat when it becomes playful, these realistic recreations help to breathe energy into the characters.
In many ways, the beauty of life and nature is central to the film. Even as the world is seemingly submerged, there is a great celebration of it and creation that is visualised wonderfully thanks to the water-colour inspired art direction.
All of this culminates into an experience that encourages reflection throughout the film — be that your own pets, how we look after the planet, or how we believe all this wonder on earth got here in the first place.
Drawing on these emotions and memories results in a deeply personal cinematic experience. Even the simple beauty of seeing what lies beneath the water captures the imagination.
There are a few scenes where Zilbalodis and co-writer Matīss Kaža explore more mystical ideas with the secretary bird and a whale. Although they contribute emotionally, their place in the overall narrative is less clear and likely to create some confusion, as is the strange absence of any humans.
But these mysteries can just as easily become an invitation to return to the world of Flow, and considering how breathlessly beautiful the 85-minute experience is, it’s hard to say no.
Put simply, Flow is an animated film that may too be re-discovered from one generation to the next.
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