The history of cinema is full of cats. Like the internet, but more. There are those that came from beyond the stars like The Cat from Outer Space; feisty and somewhat naughty like Fritz the Cat; cynical and unfathomable like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland; monumental like the one in My Neighbor Totoro, or, much less exotic, lazily charming like the one in Breakfast at Tiffany's. And then there is Flow, a world to save, by director Gints Zilbalodis, which among its many qualities stands out as the cat of the year and, in all likelihood, the first Latvian cat (hence its creator) to be an Oscar contender. For now, and after its triumphant passage through the Cannes Film Festival, it is already the European cat of the year. At least in terms of cinema. It won the award for Best Animated Film at the European Film Awards held in the Swiss town of Lucerne, and few doubt that this season it will be only Flow's cat, not Disney or Pixar or anything else.
"It's a bit overwhelming. An animator's work is to spend five years almost in solitude working on a project where you are able to control every detail to the smallest. And suddenly, you find yourself caught up in a strange mechanism, that of awards, where you have no control at all. You just have to go with the flow," says Zilbalodis, both excited and completely bewildered. It's as if he were a cat near water.
He recounts that it was precisely that, the strange and conflicting relationship between cats and the liquid element, that led him to make a seven-minute short film in 2012, from which Flow could be considered an expansion and even ecstasy. The film, between reality and dream, tells the story of a cat trapped in a world that is flooding; a world that is perfectly recognizable and close, yet threatening and strange. The water level rises, and all living beings, from dogs to lemurs to capybaras and giant cranes, see their lives and ecosystem threatened. But it's not so much a disaster movie as a mystery; it's not just about survival but about understanding and, more importantly, understanding oneself. With a delicate yet precise stroke, Flow proposes a dazzling journey to the deepest depths. "My inspiration comes not so much from animated films but from diverse people like Alfonso Cuarón, Kurosawa, Paul Thomas Anderson, or Sergio Leone," he says, whether to mislead or to provide clues. Either way, it works in both directions.
Since its premiere in the Un Certain Regard section of Cannes, the film has done nothing but collect praise, mentions, and awards. Before the European Film Awards, it won the Grand Jury Prize at the Seville Film Festival. "I was somewhat afraid. I didn't know how a vision of a nearly poetic flood would be received in Spain after the Valencia disaster. But I imagine that other elements were valued. I don't want to be too obvious or naive, but the film simply tells how a group of characters overcomes a catastrophe. It's not just about recognizing that there is hope after devastation. The idea is that only by working together, being able to set aside differences, can we move forward. I don't know. I guess that's it," he says, takes a moment, and continues: "In any case, the important thing is to see how the cat overcomes some fears but still faces others. No matter what we do, we can't reinvent ourselves, but we can improve thanks to the support of others." It's clear.
Without words, with a refined sound design that mixes meows with effects close to simple yet beautiful music, Flow is already the big surprise of the year and who knows if the first Latvian Oscar in history.