I have to be honest: animation is my favorite artistic medium. Yes, I love all genres and forms of film and television, but no other realm contains such limitless possibilities. Anything you can imagine, you can create, and the most amazing thing is that you can still keep it relatable. That can certainly be seen in this year’s Oscar nominees for Best Animated Feature, like Inside Out 2 (2024) and The Wild Robot (2024). However, no picture, in my opinion, is more worthy of receiving this honor than Gints Zilbalodis‘ Flow (2024).
The Gist of Things
The story follows a black cat, left on his own after the passing of his owner, who prefers to keep to himself while he strolls about the land. He naps, sometimes catches a fish from the local river, and avoids the wrath of predatory birds and dogs. One day, the cat unexpectedly gets swept away by a massive flood. With no other options as the water rises, he’s compelled to climb aboard a ship sailed by a capybara. Along the way, they also pick up a friendly golden retriever, a skittish lemur, and a secretary bird. Despite their differences, all these creatures must now learn how to collaborate as they literally weather the storm.
What Sets This Apart
In a refreshingly bold move, Flow breaks convention by utilizing no dialogue. You read that correctly. Gints Zilbalodis instead opts for using recorded animal sounds, as well as an almost free-flowing (see what I did there?) animation and cutting style. Even though the story structure itself is fairly conventional, the film develops its sprawling narrative with the same mix of apprehension, curiosity and wonder as its main protagonist. There’s a casually observant quality about it that feels like you’re watching an epic slice of life. This allows Zilbalodis to maintain masterful control of his tone, from the intensity of the flood’s onset, to the warmth of the capybara and the cat’s meeting. Much like with real-life, the consistency of the story’s tone lies in its unpredictability.
That very message- about embracing the constant change life brings- also is embodied in the movie’s sound design. Adapting itself to the cat’s volatile journey, the sounds flawlessly captures the largeness of the world. When the flood arrives, you feel the size and weight of that force. When the cat meets its fellow travelers, how they approach and size each other up, the sound helps convey their emotions and thoughts just as skillfully as the animation.
My Experience with The Film
When I caught this masterpiece at the Savannah Cultural Arts Center, I hadn’t heard much about it. I just saw the synopsis and thought it sounded interesting. From the very first frame to the last, I was utterly swept away by its storytelling. I was also reminded of my own life, and how I’ve had to learn to adapt to change. From moving state to state, to losing loved ones, to discovering my bisexuality, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the various highs and lows I’ve experienced as this film just washed over me. Even more so than Marcel the Shell with Shoes On (2022)(itself an excellent choice), Flow captures that same reluctant acceptance we all must make if we want to survive. Anyone can project their own memories onto this film and relate to it. I have a feeling the Oscar will most likely go to a more mainstream release. But I implore the Academy’s voters: please make Flow the winner! This isn’t just some silly movie to quiet your kids, it’s a timeless, instant classic that will capture the hearts and minds of all ages as long as the art form is around. Rent it as soon as you can.
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