OSCARS 2025: Flow (2024)

Could the average rube off the street find Latvia on the map? Probably not and this is the kind of thing I tell myself so I don't feel so bad about being totally unfamiliar with Latvian cinema. Until relatively recently, I can't say the cultural output of the Baltic states was something I thought about much at all. Excuse my ignorance. Not many of the films made over there make it over here. Certainly not many of the animated films, of which there are only a handful. Nevertheless, one such animated motion picture from Latvia has made plenty of waves – pun intended – this award season. When I first saw “Flow,” I loved it but figured it was a long shot in the Animated Feature category at the Oscars, not being made by Disney, Dreamworks, Ghibli, or any of the other studios the Academy usually nods at. After picking up a Golden Globe, however, “Flow” managed to be nominated both in this category and Best International Feature. Now the scrappy little indie is the frontrunner in the former slate. You love to see it.

In a forested landscape, a cat encounters by a pack of dogs, including a friendly yellow lab. The chase is interrupted by a sudden flood. The cat and dog return to a home, surrounded by large statues of felines. The water level starts to rise again shortly afterwards. Our furry protagonist is only saved when a boat, piloted by a capybara, arrives. The Labrador isn't far behind. Soon, this motley crew are joined on their journey by a secretary bird and a ring-tailed lemur. The animals float through the flooded world, observing more strange ruins, encountering other creatures, and eventually arriving at a temple of some sort. There, a revelation occurs.

"Flow" is distinctive from most animated movies about animals having an adventure by two factors. First off, these critters do not speak, wear clothes, or tell jokes. Personality traits do emerge but they still act a lot more like actual beasts than cartoon creatures usually do. (This includes all of their meows, barks, squawks, and grunts coming from actual animals.) Secondly, there are no human beings in "Flow" at all. There are structures, homes and temples, and we see statues – religious idols? – here and there. However, no people appear. When combined with the unpredictable and frequent flooding, which leaves the landscape totally changed each time, "Flow" gives the impression of being set in a post-apocalyptic world at the mercy of climate change. If this was the intention, however, there's certainly no indication of this being our world. While the anxieties of rising oceans are obviously a part of the story's DNA, "Flow" most clearly takes place in a fantastical world that only resembles the Earth we know in fleeting ways. The presence of whale-like creatures that are more like legendary sea monsters than real cetaceans further establishes this as an otherworldly setting. 

I don't think we are meant to think too seriously about this setting and how it came about. That's because "Flow" is clearly a fable, in which the animals and what happens around them represent truths about human nature. This world is unpredictable, massive floods happening spontaneously. Much the way our planet is a chaotic place where life upending change can occur at any moment. How each animal responds to this disaster seems to correspond to different human reactions to the unpredictable nature of life. The cat always searches for higher ground, running from the problem until it can't run anymore. The dog is always happy and blissfully unaware, pushed about by events because he has no attachment to any of it. The lemur collects trinkets and objects, desperately clinging to physical belongings despite everything else being washed away. The capybara, meanwhile, steers the boat, floating above the flood waters, and "going with the flow," as it were. The secretary bird is an exile, attempting to protect the other animals when it can. That includes saving the cat from a flock of other birds, who shatter his wing for this rebellion. The ascension that occurs in the final act gives one feelings of a sort of nirvana being reached. Does that make "Flow" a Buddhist parable, about how one should never expect certainty from an ever-changing world but should always protect most precious life, until enlightenment is finally achieved and we escape the repeating cycle of creation and destruction? 

That's one way to interpret this story and, the more I think about it, increasingly feels like the intended reading. The great thing about fables, though, is that their metaphors are mutable. Making speechless animals the stars of this tale, to me, seems to suggest that we are all at the mercy of our base desires. The first thing that happens in the film is the cat catches and eats a fish. It seeks shelter from the flood. Food and survival are the most primal of all instincts. When the pack of dogs chase after the cat, those animals are simply following their nature as well. After the flood waters recede, there's a touching scene. The Labrador spots his pack once again. While he's tempted by their howls and barks, he ultimately stays behind to help the diverse group of creatures that have become his new clan. In other words: Our beastial drives are part of us and push us forward. Cat eats fish. Dog chases cat. We seek out others who are like us. However, these instinctual forces are not our only choice. We can form meaningful bonds with other living things and protect life from destruction. This, as the secretary bird's path shows us, is how we find a world that is more than physical, that is spiritual as well. Very zen and touchy-feely, I know, but I think this is all true. 

If you aren't looking for philosophical subtext or deeper meaning, "Flow" can still be enjoyed as a simple adventure story. The film was made with open-source software Blender, meaning the animation isn't as smooth or flashy as your average big budget studio animation. I've seen a few reviews compare "Flow's" look to an older video game cut scene, which is valid. However, its visuals are still quite striking in their own way. The animal characters move in surprisingly realistic ways, being as cute and expressive as your own pets. "Flow's" stakes are high, about survival, and its feline protagonist is often in mortal danger. However, the film has such a laid back and contemplative mood, functioning like an exciting and compelling but ultimately serene experience. The soothing musical score certainly gives that impression. Moreover, telling this story without words means it can be appreciated by anyone, ultimately speaking to universal ideas. 

"Flow" was directed by Gints Zilbalodis. He was also a producer on the film, co-wrote the script, edited it, and is co-credited with Rihards Zaļupe for the music. The film took five and a half years to be completed, furthering the idea that this was a passion project for Zilbalodis. That "Flow" was made with free software by such a small team, with one guy doing double duty in so many departments, confirming it as a scrappy indie effort. In other words, it's the kind of filmmaking we should be celebrating: Innovative, entertaining, smart, insightful, and representing the artistic vision of committed individuals. "Flow" works as both an involving mood piece, an adventure that people of any age or demographic can enjoy, and a surprisingly deep fable with lots to say. I'm glad it's been so well received by a global audience, hopefully allowing more opportunities for Latvian animators and filmmakers in the future. [9/10]