Flow: A cinematic Masterpiece?

 Gints Zilbalodis's 2024 feature film, titled 'Flow' in English, or 'Straume' in Latvian, marks one of the greatest films of the year, and one of the best animations of the decade. Boasting the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, as well as a Golden Globe award, this film certainly transcends barriers, and has received a considerable amount of critical acclaim; the awards were placed on display subsequently at the Latvian National Museum of Art and a statue of the feline protagonist of the movie was erected in Riga- Latvia's capital.

The element which initially amazed me was the severe lack of- of absence of- dialogue. The surreal and unspoken beauty of silence wafted through the vast oceans of the Flow Cinematic Universe- fully embraced to produce something otherworldly and to add a depth to our protagonists unmatched by any the most verbose of characters in cinema.

I say 'otherworldly' for the sense of something somewhat alien drifted through; not hostile, but beautifully familiar, and simplistic. The absence of dialogue was down in part to the absence of humans, but it was clear that humans had once been present in this universe: frantically ransacked remains of human residences litter the expanse of the world; it feels post-apocalyptic.

Yet the absence of humanity seems to alter nothing: life lives on, and what's more, it seems for once at harmony with itself. 

There was a mystique which radiated from the world of Flow: something beautifully simplistic- a sense of emptiness. At the start of the movie, I expected it to be little more than a traditional talking animal movie, but I was blown away as the waters exposed a deep profundity to this film. The sensation of isolation and emptiness radiated throughout the world during the flood- a sort of bittersweet loneliness.

As I have mentioned, this wasn't an alternate reality in which humans had never existed, as hastily ransacked remnants of fallen civilisations sit abandoned in their former glory, reclaimed by the forest, a reminder that all human endeavours are doomed to fade away. It examines the sheer insignificance of mankind, in a world that functions better off without it.

Instead, Flow humanises nature, highlighting each individual animal's unique mentality in a vivid exploration of their psychological and emotional state. Each animal had a different personality- through their actions alone, the animators were able to perfectly capture a sense of character in each of the animals. It could be said that the protagonists, in their behaviour, exhibit a close likeness each to a psychological trait or characteristic: the cat could be seen to represent social anxiety, the dog ADHD, the lemur perhaps autism, maybe the capybara or even the cat as well... But ultimately, the film highlights the multitudinous differences between individuals all within the confines of a small boat.

Parallels can be drawn to Noah's Ark, yet I think that this flood represents climate change in a futuristic society in which humans have already rather morbidly already died off or fled- although none of the ruins resemble anything 'futuristic' as such, and so perhaps this represents an alternate timeline. Nonetheless, the Flow universe emits a sheer mountain of mystery; this world is not meant to be understood.

It is this allure that makes it so attractive- leaving questions unanswered. This is the surreal beauty of Straume: that in a fantastical yet largely naturalistic universe, all that matters is a cat, a lemur, a capybara, a bird and some dogs, floating in the infinite expanse of reality- loneliness.