by Nick Ferro, Contributing Writer
It’s not often that smaller independent movies get showings in my local theater. It’s even more rare for the animated ones to get more than one matinee on a Wednesday afternoon at 1 p.m. before disappearing forever. **Cough ROBOT DREAMS Cough** So when I saw that Flow, a new animated movie which was getting a ton of awards buzz, with its stunning, unique cel-shaded animation style, was actually going to be playing in my local theater, I jumped at the chance to see it. What was even more exciting was when I showed the trailer to my girls (10 and 12) and they wanted to tag along to see it as well. Knowing that this movie was not the typical kids’ fare, I made sure to explain to them that there would be no talking animals and most likely no talking at all; that this movie was intended to tell a story through music and visuals. This information didn’t dissuade them, so we set off to the theater. I was excited to see how they would take to, for lack of a better term, their first arthouse film.
What surprised me even more was the number of families with young children in the theater with us. It was by no means a large crowd, but there were at least 10 other kids, all younger than mine, ranging from five to eight years old. I was actually really concerned by this. Did these people think they were going to see a movie like Minions or Inside Out? Going to a theater during a weekend matinee these days can be a bit of a wild card, audience-wise. However, we tucked in, and the movie took us on quite the journey.
Flow is the story of a cat who lives in a cottage in the woods, devoid of human life. What happened to the human who lived in this cottage and carved statues of cats that are scattered around it, we cannot be sure. But one day a flood comes and washes everything away. The water level raises as high as the mountains, forcing the cat to seek refuge on a passing boat captained by a capybara (who my 10-year-old affectionately called “Capytain”). As the pair sets sail to charts unknown, hoping to find a safe haven, they come across and are joined by other animals in finding more dry land. However, the ever-growing threat of the rising tide is always a concern as they go from place to place. It adds a level of tension to the movie that is always felt but never gets in the way of the storytelling. A lemur obsessed with his collected bucket of trinkets, a loving and kind of dopey golden retriever very reminiscent of Doug from Up, and a regal secretarybird who becomes an outcast from its flock, all join the crew. The ragtag group of animals has to learn to survive, get along, and live with each other’s quirks as the movie progresses. The Cat is our incredibly lucky main character who gets saved quite a lot in the beginning and is scared and wary of many things, including their fellow shipmates. But as the movie progresses, they learn to be more confident and accepting of the other animals.
The biggest takeaway from the film is definitely the animation. This movie is breathtaking and gave me Zelda: Windwaker vibes (a personal favorite). And even though the animation could carry this movie on its own, it doesn’t need to, as it goes hand in hand with the beautiful score. The music is somber and peaceful when it needs to be, and scary and chaotic at other times. It appropriately matches the story and helps tell the more abstract parts of this story. This is a captivating movie not only about animals, but the absence of humans. The animals traveling through human-made cities and structures makes the question of, “What happened?” ever-present. After the movie was over, my kids spent the entire car ride home sharing their theories of what happened to the humans, who the cat’s owner was, why they were gone, how long it had been since they disappeared, etc. And even though this question was always on my mind, it also never overshadows the crux of the story: this little cat’s journey.
If I had to knock the film at all, it would be that there is a lack of emotional connection upon the initial viewing. I am hoping that it builds in what will be guaranteed subsequent viewings, but on the first go-around, I was too distracted to be emotional. My inquisitive nature had me all over the place wondering, “What is happening?”, “Why did that character do that?”, “Is that supposed to be a metaphor?” There is a particular scene towards the end where I believe I was supposed to cry, but I didn’t, because I was too mesmerized by the animation and the abstract nature of what was being presented. The movie is 98% literal in its storytelling, but that 2% where it decides to play outside the realm of reality, had me asking too many questions for my sappy side to experience the film through the character’s eyes. This, coupled with some decisions made to give some characters more screen time over others, left me questioning the direction of the script. I really feel like there is a missing scene or two that would have strengthened the bond between the cat and the bird to help drive home the themes of friendship and prejudice of the unknown. Because these scenes are missing, it is harder to connect to the characters later. The overarching theme of the movie, I believe, is how solitude and loneliness are not easy to overcome, but with the help of community and accepting the differences of others, you can learn to find companionship. This kind of theming almost always gets me right in the feels. In fact, The Wild Robot has a very similar theme, and that movie crushed me emotionally. However, I think Flow could have leaned on that a little more.
Getting back to the question you’ve probably been wondering about, from up top: How did this auditorium full of kids behave during this film that on the surface was not made for them?
I was completely blown away by how every single child was incredibly well-behaved, and all seemed completely locked into the movie from start to finish. We saw Moana 2 one week earlier and I couldn’t believe how restless half the kids in the audience (mine included) were by comparison. There was a constant buzz that never died down. But with Flow, you could here a pin drop. I even took the time to snoop after the lights came up and all the kids were engaging with their parents about the movie. Telling their favorite parts or asking questions. When the lights came up, without prompting, my 12-year-old declared, “That was my favorite movie of the entire year!” while my 10-year-old pondered, “What even is life?” The fact that I’ve raised two weirdos at different ends of the weird spectrum aside, the conversation only got more in-depth from there. I have never had such a long discourse regarding a movie on the drive home from the theater. They wanted to discuss everything. There was talk about the metaphorical nature and how it reminded them of the story of Noah’s Ark. The difference in understanding that a two-year age gap has still blows me away, because the big one very much understood the abstract scene to be a metaphor for death, while the younger thought perhaps there was some multiversal dimension hopping going on. Both were correct in their own way and that’s what makes Flow great: How you interpret it is all up to your own knowledge and experience. And all this from a movie they just wanted to see because there was a cute cat as the lead. If it hasn’t been clear, I loved this movie just as much as they did, and part of that love is because they loved it so much.
Flow is exactly the kind of movie that we need more of in Hollywood. I see Flow and wonder why it did not receive more attention, and yet I love that it was playing in my local theater AND for 10 days straight with four showtimes each day! Much more than similar movies would typically get. I can only hope that Flow is the first of many independent films to gain a wider audience, because if I can take my daughters to see more movies that engage with them the way Flow has, then I would be a very happy dad, indeed!
Rating: Loved It
Flow is currently playing in theaters
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