There exists a misleading simplicity to *Flow*. Upon initial observation, the concept of this animated feature might appear recognizable: a varied ensemble of animals comes together to endure an impending disaster. Nonetheless, what sets co-writer and director Gints Zilbalodis’ work apart is its understated challenge to traditional American animation clichés.

While the narrative might evoke reflections on *Madagascar, Ice Age, A Bug’s Life,* or *Zootopia*, *Flow* opts for a different route. Rather than transforming its animal leads into exaggerated, commercially viable figures, Zilbalodis showcases them with an air of authenticity. These beings lack oversized, expressive eyes and whimsical wardrobes. They neither possess celebrity voice actors nor articulate human languages. Instead, they interact through natural sounds—mewing, clucking, chittering—and exhibit movements that authentically reflect their real-life analogs.

Despite Zilbalodis’ commitment to realism in their physical traits, he shuns the hyper-detailed photorealism evident in Disney’s “live-action” rendition of *The Lion King*. Instead, *Flow* adopts a painterly, digital art style that favors abstraction. The animals are depicted with shifting hues, subtly merging into an environment that is both stunning and treacherous. This artistic decision fosters a universe that feels both precarious and profoundly engaging.

Visually breathtaking, *Flow* presents a narrative that may enchant children with its delightful animal characters, but it carries a more profound message that will resonate with adults who grasp the deeper meanings of their plight.

### *Flow* serves as a wordless metaphor for climate change.

Nominated as Latvia’s official entry for the Best International Feature Oscar, *Flow* begins with a small black cat meandering through a forest in search of sustenance. Hints indicate that this cat was once domesticated—a cozy cabin adorned with wooden carvings of its image stands deserted. The tools and furniture within remain undisturbed, suggesting a human presence that has long been absent. And this cat is not the only one abandoned.

A pack of stray dogs, a blend of breeds, wanders the woods, awkwardly attempting to catch fish from a nearby stream. It appears that a previously playful group of pets has been compelled to survive independently. As the story progresses, the animals encounter relics of human life—handcrafted artifacts, dilapidated buildings—confirming the existence of a post-human reality. The most striking evidence of this situation is the colossal wall of water that drives the animals to higher ground, ultimately pushing them onto forsaken boats.

### *Flow* narrates a story of hesitant collaboration.

The black cat scrambles aboard a weathered sailboat, only to discover it already occupied by a napping capybara. Initially cautious, the cat soon recognizes that the gentle rodent poses no danger. One by one, more animals join their makeshift crew—a loquacious lemur fond of gathering trinkets, an elegant crane that assumes command of the rudder, and a genial Golden Retriever eager to connect with its new friends.

Observing these unanticipated allies learning to coexist is a quiet pleasure. Zilbalodis remains true to their innate instincts, allowing their traits to surface naturally. Conflict arises in subtle yet credible ways—when the lemur meticulously arranges its collection of curios, the cat instinctively swats one off the boat, to the lemur’s irritation. Yet, as threats emerge—whether in the form of predators or barriers—the animals slowly come to trust each other.

Aesthetically, *Flow* captivates. Zilbalodis illustrates a world that, in spite of its devastation, remains vibrant with both peril and optimism. The film is uplifting, as beings that might typically be foes find comfort in their collective voyage. By dismissing conventional animated motifs—avoiding exaggerated expressions, human-like behaviors, and spoken language—*Flow* offers a refreshingly unpredictable experience. Anything seems feasible, and what eventually transpires is both grand and profoundly moving.

Declining to conform to typical expectations, *Flow* is an awe-inspiring animated journey—poignant, innovative, and visually breathtaking. While it stands as a strong competitor for Best International Feature, it may also challenge the Best Animated Feature category, compelling major American studios to take notice.

***Flow* is now available for streaming on Max.**