Flow
March 16, 2025
STREAMING REVIEW:
Max;
Animated;
Box Office $4.56 million;
Rated ‘PG’ for peril and thematic elements.
Gints Zilbalodis’s Oscar-winning Flow redefines animated storytelling. Through a purely visual narrative, it invites viewers of all ages into a post-apocalyptic world. Much like a profound painting in a museum, it sparks diverse interpretations, a feat often attributed to Pixar. This is achieved through a unique, dialogue-free approach that resonates across generations and cultures.
The film plunges us into a world submerged by a catastrophic flood, following a solitary cat’s journey through the remnants of civilization. The cat’s struggle for survival becomes a poignant exploration of linkage, as it encounters a diverse cast of animal characters. Lemurs, hinting at a tropical origin, navigate the floating debris with surprising agility. A formidable boar embodies the ever-present danger, while birds, sometimes a source of hope, pose a hazard as they fight for survival. With their complex social dynamics, a pack of dogs starkly contrasts the cat’s isolated existence, and at times, presents peril. The haunting presence of enormous, decaying animal carcasses underscores the scale of the disaster and the fragility of life.
Intriguingly, the approaching flood is signaled not by meteorological readings or human warnings, but by the primal instincts of the animal kingdom. First, the dogs, ever attuned to subtle shifts, begin a sudden, inexplicable retreat. Then, the birds, usually cheerful, take to the skies in a panicked flurry.
But the dramatic stampede of deer indeed underscores the impending catastrophe. While horned, it’s difficult to identify them as strictly deer definitively. They could be antelope, or a combination of deer and antelope-like creatures. The film’s design leans toward stylized representations, rather than photorealistic depictions.
Their panicked rush, a thunderous surge across the landscape, starkly demonstrates the overwhelming force of nature about to be unleashed. In their collective, instinctive movement, the animals become the harbingers of the flood, a living, breathing alarm system against the rising waters. While there is no human dialogue, the animals’ vocalizations are remarkably authentic, creating a soundscape of communication. These voices add another layer, allowing viewers to understand their fear, urgency, and social dynamics without needing words.
Significantly, the film is devoid of a living human presence. However, the remnants of human civilization — submerged buildings, abandoned structures, scattered artifacts, and, notably, a weathered sailboat — play a subtle yet important role.
These remnants serve as both obstacles and resources for the animals, prompting reflection on humanity’s past and its impact on the natural world. For example, the lemurs’ resourceful collection of goods in a basket, aided by other animals, can be seen as a metaphor for aspects of community and resourcefulness.
The abandoned sailboat, a symbol of human ingenuity and exploration, now serves as a floating refuge, reflecting the adaptability of life in the face of change. Even in their absence, humans leave a lingering trace, a silent indicator of their former dominance and the enduring legacy of their creations.
Adding to this, a hand-held jeweled mirror becomes a source of entertainment and discovery for some animals, highlighting their curiosity and adaptability. The film also features a variety of undersea creatures, from tiny, fish-like beings to a colossal whale-like creature, further emphasizing the diversity of life in this submerged world.
The deliberate absence of humans amplifies the film’s focus on the animal kingdom’s resilience, creating a deeply personal and thought-provoking cinematic experience that reflects on the natural world’s capacity to endure, even in the face of overwhelming change.
Zilbalodis crafted this masterpiece largely independently, utilizing open-source software Blender. This remarkable feat highlights the potential of freely available tools and the power of individual vision. Zilbalodis thanked the makers of Blender in his Oscar acceptance speech, confirming its central role in the film’s creation. He is a filmmaker from Latvia, a land of quiet strength, where modern ease often meets nature’s tranquility. The film’s Oscar win, announced by Andrew Garfield and Goldie Hawn (whose selection as presenters was apparently based on their status as well-known and respected figures in the film industry, rather than any direct connection to the film or Latvia), marked a historic moment for Latvia. During his acceptance speech, Zilbalodis poignantly stated, “We’re all in the same boat, we must overcome our differences and find ways to work together,” resonating with the film’s core message: art, even without words, speaks to the heart of humanity.
The film’s focus on the animals’ emotional struggles and need for safety and connection may resonate with children, who see in them a reflection of their ability to overcome challenges. Conversely, adults may find that the film’s portrayal of humanity’s absence speaks to their ecological anxieties and primal ties. The film’s visual storytelling style encourages viewers to create meaning from incomplete information, allowing them to explore their internal landscapes and grapple with their own experiences of loss, change, and interconnectedness.
Flow reminded me of music before MTV, before the era of prescribed visual interpretations. It transported me back to when my imagination alone painted visual stories behind melodies and lyrics, allowing for a deeply personal and unadulterated association to art. This film offers that same freedom, a space where individual interpretation is supreme.
Flow also excels in its nuanced portrayal of animal mannerisms and relationships. Viewers may find themselves recognizing the familiar quirks of their pets, seeing their cat’s subtle expressions or their dog’s playful behavior emulated on screen, creating a unique and profoundly personal bond with the film. The film’s protagonist, the cat, displays a captivating blend of vulnerability and resilience. Its cautious movements, wide, expressive eyes, and subtle posture shifts effectively convey its emotional journey. We witness its initial fear and confusion, followed by a growing determination to survive. It utilizes its natural cat-like instincts, such as careful observation, stealth, and agility, to navigate the treacherous environment. As a viewer bonus, I learned that cats swim remarkably well, vividly proved in the film.
In an era of information overload and social fragmentation, Flow provides a moment of quiet contemplation, a reminder of our fundamental need for kinship and belonging. It is a film that encourages us to look inward. Flow is not merely a film; it’s a meditative experience, powerful visual storytelling, and illustrates the resilience of life itself.