The Latvian movie won a
Golden Globe
Courtesy | Amazon
An unexpected source of competition has rattled America’s most prominent animation studios.
The Oscar-nominated movie “Flow” hit Max Feb. 4. By Feb. 18, it had surged to the No. 1 spot on the streaming service.
The creation by Dream Well Studios, an independent Latvian studio, “Flow” earned the Golden Globe Award for best animated motion picture on Jan. 5, beating such titles as Disney’s “Moana 2,” DreamWorks “The Wild Robot,” and Pixar’s “Inside Out 2.” This has all been accomplished with a budget of $3.8 million — compared to the respective $150 million, $78 million, and $200 million budgets of its competitors.
“Flow” is a story centered on a cat whose world is destroyed by a cataclysmic flood. Escaping to safety on a passing ship, the cat finds itself a crewmate with an unexpected companion, a capybara. Together, these unlikely friends sail the open waters of a drowned world, encountering new companions along the way: a dog, a lemur, and a bird. Beset by trials from within and without, these animals are forced to rise above their own instinctive natures, becoming more than they are. Their trials tell a beautiful story of friendship and self discovery decorated with moments of humor, awe, and solemnity.
Astoundingly, this complex story is told entirely without words. The animals do not speak as people would, they only communicate as animals would, physically and sonorously.
Rather than holding the plot back, this choice enriches the movie.
It creates an organic tension and relationship between the characters. The dog has a heart bigger than its brain. The lemur is obsessed with material trinkets. The cat is standoffish and isolated.
In order to survive, they are forced to control these tendencies.
When we first meet the crew, they are divided, self-preserving, and dysfunctional, exactly what you would expect from wild animals. When we last see them, they stand united.
The entire viewing experience feels like a vivid dream. Monolithic structures haunt the environment, and abandoned buildings hint at people long gone. And just like a vivid dream, the viewer must interpret the meaning at the end. All the hints are there, but there is no explanation, no celebratory monologue or one-liner. As the animals must find out what they are truly capable of, the viewer must also discern what the movie means to them.
In the superficial environment of blockbuster cinema, the thoughtful storytelling of “Flow” is a breath of fresh air. As 2025 is set to receive both a live action remake of “Snow White” and “How to Train Your Dragon,” uninspired retellings of cherished films better done, “Flow” reminds us that there are still many new stories to tell, and many ways to tell them. We shouldn’t expect the same recycled, tired plots we have seen for years.
Movies aren’t just products, they are art. The producers of “Flow” know this, and that is why the movie feels so profoundly different. Like a great book, “Flow” begs to be read into through its well placed symbols and motifs. In interpreting these, the viewer partners with the movie in an act of original storytelling.
