Flow
★★★★
Flow is easily one of the most unexpected and quietly powerful animated films I’ve seen in a long time. Sure, it’s a little rough around the edges—but that rawness? That’s exactly what makes it so mesmerizing.
This Latvian underdog (undercat?) follows a lonely feline on a surreal journey through a post-flood world, accompanied by a ragtag crew of animal survivors. It sounds like the setup for a quirky animated adventure, but what you actually get is something much more spiritual and meditative.
There’s no spoken dialogue. None. And yet, it doesn’t feel silent. The story washes over you in waves, giving just enough to chew on while inviting your own interpretations. That might sound lofty, but somehow it’s not pretentious—it’s poignant. It’s poetic. And it’s oddly... adorable?
I watched it with my nine-year-old daughter, a seasoned Pixar pro, and even she was surprisingly glued to the screen. Sure, she didn’t catch the metaphorical undercurrents, but the tension, the peril and the sheer curiosity of “what happens next?” had her hooked. Admittedly, there were moments where it was almost too intense—but that’s part of its magic. It treats its audience with respect, regardless of age.
Now, does it deserve the Oscar for Best Animated Feature? I’m on the fence. I respect its journey and the unique vision behind it—especially considering it came out of Latvia, completely outside the typical Hollywood machine. That alone makes its win kind of incredible. But personally? It didn’t quite stir my soul the way it clearly did for others.
Maybe I’m just not an animal person. Maybe I need to sit down with a spiritual guru and talk it out. Because Flow is less about what’s happening onscreen and more about what it stirs inside you.
At the very least, it’s a film worth talking about—and I’m glad it’s inspiring conversation and opening doors for other small, international animated features to shine.
