Animation is a powerful medium for storytelling, and this year, we’ve been blessed with some incredible films that have reinforced the unique power that animated movies possess. Earlier this year, DreamWorks Animation provided The Wild Robot, a visually striking post-apocalyptic commentary on motherhood. Additionally, this past summer saw the U.S release of Robot Dreams, a beautifully poetic film about friendship that tells its heartful story entirely without dialogue. Both of these films delivered elements that deeply resonated with me and have stayed in my mind throughout the year. As the year approaches its close, a surprise European animated film has reached American theaters and delivers remnants of both of the previously mentioned movies, and combines these elements to provide an unforgettable cinematic experience. Flow, distributed to American theaters by Sideshow and Janus Films, is one of my favorite films of the year, and one I can’t help but feel obliged to help signal boost.

Like The Wild Robot, Flow tells a story set in a post-apocalyptic world that features animals having claimed the natural world depicted with a visually marvelous presentation that oozes style and distinction. Like Robot Dreams, Flow is also a movie that entirely delivers a narrative focused on friendship without the use of any dialogue. But Flow is far more than standing aside some of the best animated films of the year - Flow is a remarkably quaint, cute, and fascinating tale about finding family in the face of a rapidly changing world. As we center on a black cat that suddenly has to befriend a dog that he initially considers to be an enemy and seeks refuge after a flood destroys his home, Flow crafts a narrative that feels like an utter celebration of the unique capabilities of animation. Indeed, Flow stands as one of the strongest movies of the year, animated or otherwise, and thanks to its commitment to telling a wordless story with an art style unlike any other film out there, Flow is doubtlessly a movie that will stick with any viewer.

Flow’s post-apocalyptic setting is perhaps a weakness in that the audience is given very little context for its existence. While we see remnants of a human civilization in the form of a house with drawings that our protagonist resides in at the beginning of the film and a city that the collection of animals go through in the latter half of the film, we don’t know what happened to this civilization. Moreover, the primary conflict of Flow sees a flood devastate the land and force the land animals to navigate the world on boats in a flooded world. We’re given no context as to why this flood occurs nor are entirely in the loop when the flood dissipates in the film’s conclusion.

But therein lies the beauty of Flow - the audience is given just as much context as the film’s inhabitants are given. While the lack of concrete worldbuilding may be seen as a flaw towards the film, it somehow actually manages to ground Flow to make it more understandable as a story that’s about regular animals suddenly forced to navigate a world that’s unlike the one they’ve known their entire lives. When a cat or a dog has to move to a new location when their owners have to move across the country for a new job, they aren’t given the context for their new reality. Through means outside of their control, animals often have to adapt to new circumstances for their life. They are forced to adapt to new surroundings, new people (or animals) around them, and figure out how to live their life in this new setting.

Flow depicts animals having to do just this in a way that’s emphatically believable and heartwarming as it can be in a post-apocalyptic context. At the beginning of the film, the black cat we follow is chased by a pack of dogs after snagging a fish that they obtain from a nearby river. We immediately see the hostile relationship that the cat has towards the dogs that inhabit the forest. Beyond that, we see how isolated the cat lives their life in this environment, as illustrated by the secluded house they sleep in. As soon as the flood occurs in the film’s first act, the black cat’s life is suddenly forced to change. The house they had lived in has flooded and one of the dogs, once an enemy, now reaches out to the black cat for help as the current of the flood forces them away from the other dogs.

Hostile rivalries bloom into hesitant friendships as the black cat stumbles in a boat navigating the flooded world that connects them to a dog, a beaver, a lemur, and a heron. What follows is a quaint, well-paced story about how these animals need to learn how to embark on this adventure together. Can they trust other animals that they see? Will other animals help them navigate this flooded world? And what, if anything, can they do to go back to the world they once knew? The animals lack context and answers for why the world has gone in this direction, but through finding companionship amidst disaster, they’re able to at least move forward together, if nothing else.

What makes this mix of found-family and post-apocalyptic navigation become so enticing is the vivid means through which this story is told. Most animated films would opt to give animals voices and opportunities to plainly state their thoughts on what’s going around them. Flow distinguishes itself from the bulk of animated films by being a film that is decisively nonverbal. Every animal only communicates through their body language, with occasional meows, barks, and hisses coming out when characters try to get each others’ attention.

Flow’s commitment to being nonverbal is a bold one, and yet it is one that is pulled off remarkably well through the animators opting to lean on believably portraying how these animals would behave with one another. The black cat is a particular stand-out in how they’re animated. They swipe their paw in front of them when they feel threatened, they jump up in the air when they feel frightened, and they even stand up on their hindlegs when trying to mimic other animals’ posture in an attempt to impress them, only to fall into the water behind them as a result. It’s this combination of believable behavior and fun-but-not-too-frequent visual gags that help keep the world that Flow is presenting feel consistently grounded but enjoyable to watch. A particular moment regarding the black cat chasing after the sun’s reflection in the mirror as if it were a laser pointer highlights how jovial and cute Flow is willing to be.

That said, Flow is comfortable with being serious, contemplative, and quiet when it needs to be. A major theme of Flow is companionship not only when it’s happening, but also when companionship is met with challenges and loss. Companionship with others can falter when a group of friends loses one of their own - but with the right attention and level of commitment, the bonds that we make can grow stronger through loss. The film’s conclusion sees the power of the bond that the black cat and their friends have forged in a way that feels as satisfying as it is heartfelt.

Flow masters being a grounded, believable tale about confusedly navigating a new, broken world while also depicting a group of outcast animals finding family and hope amongst each other. Through striking visuals that gives great attention to detail particularly to eyes and every animal’s behavior, Flow’s visuals carry a level of quiet wonder that matches the tone of its story. More than anything, Flow is an incredible reminder of just how much meaning can be conveyed through animation. Through depicting a wordless story, Flow needs to lean on making its animation be able to communicate how all of its characters are feeling amidst the world around them constantly changing. The film miraculously accomplishes this task thanks to harboring fluid, stylish animation that is amplified by the animators’ clear love for the animals they are bringing to life.

Any appreciator of animation owes it to themselves to see Flow. This film animates a tragic, yet hopeful tale filled with expressive, cute, and resilient animals that show more character growth than in the film’s verbal contemporaries. Flow is a gorgeous beacon of hope for what animation continues to be capable of. Like the black cat and their friends sailing across the flooded remains of a city, Flow charts a way forward that will doubtlessly inspire any onlooker.

Final Grade: A

Thank you very much for reading! What did you think of Flow? Would you like to see other animated films take after this film’s example? As always, join the conversation and let me know what you think in the comments or on Bluesky @DerekExMachina.