
There is a book on animation filled with essays entitled Illusion of Life. The illusion is when a drawing comes to life, and therein lies animation’s curse.
This complex art form has been relegated as a quirk in film because these are “just” drawings that come to life, a source of entertainment from the whimsy. Latvia’s first-ever Oscar win goes to the animated marvel Flow (2024, directed by Gints Zilbalodis).
This win is historic because (1) it is a computer-generated animation done with free 3D animation software Blender; (2) it is an independent film that beat giants like Pixar and Disney; (3) it has a dystopian theme of humanity’s erasure.
Alan Weisman wrote The World Without Us in 2007, a portrait of the earth when humans are gone. He writes about what will happen to the cities and, in a section, what happens to the animals left behind. He positions that the smaller domesticated animals will be gone, for they cannot fend for themselves. This is the main plot of Flow. One day, the humans are gone, and the water levels are rising.
We have a charming and exhilarating adventure story of a black cat braving the odds as it seeks stable ground. Oddly, many people will think this is for children because it is about animals and it is animation. This movie offers another dystopian look at climate change tipping towards humanity’s destruction. As the cat and its animal companions float from one point to another, we see a world slowly erasing the legacies of human control. Depending on your point of view, this could be either comforting or alarming.
The true gem of Flow is the presence of animation as an art form amidst multinational branded giants. Flow looks like an independent film but has ample support from nation-based creative agencies. It stood its ground compared to animation behemoths, which should inspire many animators out there who want to tell stories and not sell merchandise from animation films.
A cursory look online shows that Latvia’s small animation industry caters to artistic works rather than just pure entertainment. What Latvian animation has is government support. One can imagine what Philippine animation would be like if supported, not just fiscally but creatively. The Philippines has had a vital presence and participation in global animation. From being in-betweeners (animators who draw the actual animation sequence from one act to another) to teaching animation abroad, Philippine animation has the potential and artistic promise to become a major storyteller like this Latvian tale.
There are many animation houses in the Philippines. There is no doubt that we have the talent. We have the workforce. But for now, many churn out animation for commercials and other nations’ stories.
Many of the capital infusions associated with Philippine animation houses focus on the return on investment from cheap labor and our English-speaking skills. But we are not the proponents of ideas; we are only vehicles for other people’s ideas and, worse, corporations’ ideas.
Flow has taught us that even free 3D modeling software is capable of greatness and fascination. We can one day muster enough courage to be independently creative and produce stories to enthrall the world. For the Philippines, our animation would not be called Float but Adrift, at least for now.
You may reach Chong Ardivilla at kartunistatonto@gmail.com or chonggo.bsky.social