As a species, humans are so focused on ensuring our own survival, that we overlook all those that surround us, which makes us a truly selfish homogenous entity that is likely going to be responsible for our demise, which is a thought many inclined towards this growing sense of widespread nihilism seem to have, and which is not without merit as we see the world become more cynical as time progresses. Yet, we can also look at it from the other perspective, in the form of observing how other species have been shown to rise to the challenge of making it through perilous circumstances in a way that we could never conceive of ourselves. This can be a narrow entry point into Flow, in which director Gints Zilbalodis tells a genuinely moving story of a cat that witnesses the destruction of the world, and rather than becoming one of its many victims, has to find a way to survive. At first, it attempts to do so on its own, believing its fervent independence will be more than enough to help navigate disaster, but eventually comes to discover that it is far more difficult to survive on one’s own, and instead cobbles together an unconventional crew of animals who also managed to make it through the initial stages of destruction, but are feverishly trying to ensure that they aren’t its next victims, with the dangers becoming more frequent. Working together, this group (consisting of the cat, a secretary bird, a dog, a lemur and a capybara) navigate some indeterminate part of the world, desperate to survive but growing more terrified as they encounter further obstacles along the way. It’s a thrilling, compelling film that is as beautifully made as it is deeply moving, Flow finds the director following his well-received Away, tackling similar themes and doing so with incredible charm and precision, carefully piecing together a truly captivating exploration of what it means to fight for one’s life that is genuinely captivating, and establishes him as one of the most promising young directors working in contemporary animation.

The climate crisis and environmental issues as a whole are tricky subjects to speak about in film – it’s difficult to make an artwork that directly addresses the subject without it feeling overwrought and heavy-handed at one end or the extreme, or trivial and inconsequential on the other. Zilbalodis finds a way to circumvent this by telling a story that is easily relatable, using a cast of adorable animals as his only characters to explore what a world without humans would look like, if anything like that can even be fathomable. The early days of the recent pandemic brought out several images that supposedly featured the natural world “healing” as a result of humans being isolated in their homes, and while these were mostly fabricated for the sake of stirring discourse, there is still something quite valuable about such a concept, which is what the director sets out to explore with this film, an engaging and unconventional animated odyssey that sees a random assemblage of heroes coming together to defy the odds and battle the elements, the film has a strong environment message – not only are we headed towards inevitable destruction, once we reach the point of no return, combatting the natural world is beyond impossible, as it will destroy without any hesitation, and that it is not something that should ever be tested, since the consequences are severe, as we see throughout the film. Using these elements, Zilbalodis crafts a compelling and engaging narrative that is well-constructed and genuinely meaningful, albeit never being too overwrought in how it delivers its message, which makes a considerable difference and allows for a film that is far more engaging than it perhaps out to have been without this strong, steadfast perspective.

What draws us into Flow is the promise of a very unconventional story, which is perhaps the only way to possibly broach these impossible themes without it feeling trite and overdone. The film is made entirely without dialogue, with the director resisting the temptation to give these animals a voice, which in turn forces the film to have more substance as far as characterization goes. The moment a voice is removed, especially in animation, is when a director has to use their resourcefulness to create a more dynamic and daring process of conveying meaning. Zilbalodis has stated that Flow is told in the universal language of cinema, which is a simplistic but charming way of approaching these slightly intimidating subjects. This contributes to the overall structure of the film, which is an offbeat tale of survival in which these characters have to express themselves without having the benefit of their internal monologue being known to the viewer – yet, there is never a moment where this film is even vaguely ambigious or limited in how it looks at its underlying ideas, and we can easily understand what every one of these characters is experiencing through the intricate weaving together of a narrative built less on traditional structure, and more on the themes of survival in an uncertain time and place, which makes for truly captivating, enthralling viewing that is layered, meaningful and always engaging in a way that speaks to the most fundamental core of what it means to be alive – it sounds cliched, but Flow is more compassionate in scope than any work featuring people, and without even the vaguest glimpse of a human being throughout the film, Zilbalodis is able to make some poignant statements without needing to rely on anything other than the power of pure imagery. 

On the subject of the images that drive the film, we find that Flow is an exceptionally well-made film, and represents a fascinating future for the industry as a whole. There’s something wonderfully subtle about this film and how it navigates certain ideas through simple but effective animation – primarily, the use of computer-generated imagery to create a hybrid between traditional hand-drawn animation (particularly in terms of the subtle, crafted nature of the medium), with a more contemporary glaze that has been utilized before, albeit not entirely effectively. It’s undeniable that there are going to be a couple of moments where Flow feels somewhat limited in its resources – it is an independent production and didn’t have the benefit of a higher budget, so it can look slightly inconsistent at times, but these qualities only add character and make it clear that this film was the hard work of a team of animators who took the time to cobble this touching story together, gradually bringing these characters to life. The character design is simple but effective, which makes the terrain they traverse all the more impressive – there are some moments, such as when they make their way to an abandoned city or when the protagonist makes his way up a mysterious mountain, that stand as some of the most stunningly beautiful moments in recent memory, and the deeply meditative, earnest attention to detail makes a film that is constantly pushing forward and presenting something we may not have seen previously, but will certainly never neglect to consolidate into memory, especially with this level of sincerity and effort that went into the production. Animation continues to be an industry run by a few major companies, so finding a film that is independently produced and driven by that same steadfast appreciation for the simpler side of the medium is a welcome change of pace, and more than enough reason to celebrate this bold and uncompromising vision.

Unquestionably daring and beautifully crafted, Flow is an immense achievement – a simple story told with precision and honesty, which is the formula behind many exceptional works. Playing like a classic adventure film, just being done through animation and featuring a motley crew of animal protagonists, the film is a major work that is genuinely quite heartfelt, even at its most simplistic. There are moments of awe-inspiring beauty and genuine emotion that tug at the heartstrings and make us wonder why such a basic premise has never been told on screen before – it’s simple enough to draw us in and covers universal themes in a manner that is honest, sincere and filled with resonance, enough to speak to the collective human soul, filtering many of our emotions through a decidedly more unconventional lens. Beautifully crafted and filled with a kind of heartfulness we don’t entirely anticipate coming from such a small production. Yet, the smaller budget only motivated the director towards further ingenuity, and he cobbles together quite an impressive animated drama that has both its artistic vision and emotional inventory entirely under its command and allows it all to flourish into an impressive, bold and assertive work of pure visual poetry that will always remain relevant and have a soulfulness that will allow it to be embraced by a much wider audience, who will undoubtedly be united in our shared admiration for these characters and everything that the story represents.