Yes, technically, Flow is an animated fantasy film featuring a cadre of wild animals in a post-apocalyptic landscape, but it’s the more grounded naturalism that makes the film sing. Besides, given that we’ve just seen two “once-in-a-generation” hurricanes strike in the past two weeks, perhaps it’s not so far-fetched after all. Gints Zilbalodis, the co-writer (with Matīss Kaža) , director, producer, editor, cinematographer, production designer, and co-composer (with Rihards Zalupe) has crafted a warm and inviting story about friendship and nature that stands as one of the year’s best films.

Animated with a vibrant kind of cel shading – which maybe isn’t rendered with the greatest graphical detail – Flow follows the exploits of a lonely black cat, initially content to spend his days exploring the forest and napping in an empty house. But the water level begins to rise unexpectedly and rapidly, which sends the cat into an unfamiliar survival mode. He soon finds a wayward sailboat (big enough for maybe 3 humans), occupied by a capybara, and they venture into the unknown. What’s most noticeable about the film is the complete lack of dialogue, or any spoken words or non-ambient sounds. But the animal friends, which soon includes a lemur, a Labrador retriever, and a snowy egret (I’m no member of the Audubon Society, but I think it’s the most likely answer), find ways to communicate with each other to survive.

Indeed, none of the animals talk, or sing or dance, nor do they have exaggerated, Disney-fied features, but they’re no less expressive. Each is imbued with their own personality quirks, so we know how they’ll react in almost every given situation. Cat begins as apprehensive, unwilling to warm over to become part of the ersatz family – especially the dog, of course – but grows to accept and appreciate them. Lemur carries with it a basket of trinkets, like glass bottles, a mirror, et cetera, which it cares for just as much as the other animals. The egret becomes part of the crew after defending the cat from his flock, resulting in one of Flow’s standout scenes. Dog is dumb, but loyal and friendly, always doing its part to help out.

Crucially, it’s never clear where the characters are going, or what they’re looking for. Survival is key. Audiences might see this as meandering or directionless, but it’s a collection of engrossing and colorful scenes with a melancholic score to boot. Yet there’s no lack of drama, either between the characters or foisted upon them. We never see humans, nor is the sudden rise in sea level ever explained, nor is it entirely clear where in the world the film takes place. But Flow takes us through a number of varied locations, including a half-sunken city that recalls Venice or Barcelona, and a mountain range that looks similar to Machu Picchu.

At its best moments, Flow is a beautifully observed depiction of nature and friendship, which can easily cause its audience to re-evaluate how we see animal interactions. As a cat owner myself throughout the years, I saw glimpses of my former pets in our heroic cat, and similar pet owners will surely do the same. It’s easy to compare the film to The Wild Robot  in their similar views on nature and animal instincts, but Flow is very much its own thing, borne from a singular vision to send a universal message.

Flow was screened at the 2024 Heartland International Film Festival. It will be released in theaters later this year.

OSCAR POTENTIAL:

• The film is Latvia’s official selection for International Feature, but the prospects are slim.
• It’s possible the film could receive an Animated Feature nom, but it faces equally stiff competition. One factor in its favor is a win at the Annecy Film Festival, the biggest worldwide animation festival, so, presumably, it’s favored amongst the animation branch.