
The latest film from director Gints Zilbalodis, Flow, is an animated feature that follows a cat whose home is devastated by a flood. The film follows the cats adventures amidst the perils of the newly aquatic planet, aided by a capybara, a lemur, a bird, and a dog. This dialogue-free story work as a followup to Zilbalodis’ first film, Away, which was a staggering achievement. Zilbalodis demonstrates a keen interest in these fable-like storytelling structures that eschew standard, dialogue-driven stories. The adventures are still immense and, through the score, artistry, and direction, maintain a necessary thrill.
Zilbalodis’ films are hardly the first silent animated features. Winsor McCay was making silent shorts like Little Nemo and Gertie the Dinosaur in the 1910s, and Felix the Cat was a star in the 1920s before the rise of sound on film. There have also been silent or dialogue free features over the past 20 years. Animation fans have a vast world to explore through this particular offshoot of the medium. And while we only highlight five silent animated films worth checking out after seeing Flow, there’s plenty more available, reaching back to the early days of cinema.

The Triplets of Belleville (2003)
If you’re paying attention in the background of one particular shot of Sylvain Chomet’s The Triplets of Belleville, you’ll notice a not-very-subtle visual gag at the expense of the Mouse House. Floating in the toilet is a turd that’s shaped like a certain rodent, which not only rubs its nose at the most popular animation house in Hollywood but lets you know that you’re in for a crude, rude, and altogether lewd European experience.
But that’s not to suggest that this delightfully wacky French romp is some sort of South Park-esque satire. Instead, this hand-drawn odyssey prides itself on being an off-kilter character examination, complete with weird, wild angles and the types of oddball faces you won’t soon forget. Indeed, Chomet prides himself in making the sort of old-fashioned cartoon capers that rarely exist anymore — if they were ever much of a thing to begin with. Nary a line of spoken dialogue is uttered throughout the film, outside of some earworm tunes. Still, Chomet speaks volumes to the simple, strange lives of these outsider individuals who, against the odds, want to do what they love — whether people understand it or not. It’s a tribute to these beautifully unbecoming souls that Chomet makes a film as uniquely unconventionally and unconventionally unique as them. [Will Ashton]

Boy and the World (2013)
Alê Abreu’s 2013 film Boy and the World features minimal dialogue. It’s either reversed or presented as mirrored upside-down text when it appears. Despite this, the film captures the wonder of a childlike perspective through a unique animation style that blends the simplicity of children’s drawings with Brazil’s vibrant, dynamic colors. The soundtrack enhances this storytelling with two central leitmotifs: one representing the cacophony of the city and the other reflecting the beauty of a folk parade. Together, these elements create a poignant narrative about family, heartbreak, the urban-rural divide, and environmentalism—a story that remains deeply relevant even more than a decade later. [Pedro Graterol]

Shaun the Sheep Movie (2015)
Aardman Animations is famous for its signature stop motion and claymation techniques and warm, silly stories that charm all who watch them. While Wallace and Gromit and Chicken Run may be the studio’s most known IPs (the latter is the highest-grossing stop-motion film of all time), one of its characters always seems to get lost in the mix: Shaun the Sheep.
Shaun the Sheep first appeared in a 1995 Wallace and Gromit short and then got his own spin-off show in 2007. In 2015, he got his own feature-length film (simply called Shaun the Sheep Movie), which was as charming as Aardman’s other franchises despite not having a single word of dialogue.
In Shaun the Sheep Movie, the titular character has had it with work. All he and his farm animal buddies want is a day off, and to complete their mission, they prank the farmer into falling asleep while they run wild around the house. Unbeknownst to them, the farmer gets amnesia and leaves his farm for life in the big city.
Even in silence, the film knows how to evoke emotion from the audience. The physical comedy is rowdy and rambunctious, akin to a Buster Keaton. And its sadder moments pull on the heartstrings, encouraging children and adults to shed tears. Writers and directors Richard Starzak and Mark Burton remind us that you don’t need words to convey emotion. And in a world dominated by noise, it’s so refreshing to see that. [Yasmin Kleinbart]

The Red Turtle (2016)
Dreamy and deeply evocative, the 2016 film The Red Turtle is a visually grand odyssey. Directed by Michaël Dudok de Wit, the story follows a man who, after being stranded on an island by a massive red turtle, discovers a life and finds family amongst the wreckage of his journey home. The simplistic narrative allows for deeper emotional tides as we engage with the might and destruction of nature and how life perseveres no matter the obstacle. The haunting yet life-affirming film establishes simple truths about the passage of time and how bound we are to Earth’s impact. The staggering visuals are aided by a whimsical score from composer Laurent Perez del Mar, creating a hypnotic story as we watch life unfold before being built anew. [Ally Johnson]

Robot Dreams (2023)
If you’ve seen Pablo Berger’s 2023 tale of friendship, you’ll know its heart is anything but silent. With the bouncy beat of Earth Wind & Fire’s “September” popping in every now and again, Robot Dreams chronicles the story of Dog and Robot coming together as friends first and individuals next. It’s a real push-and-pull experience emotionally; one minute, the pair make strides into brave new worlds, and the next, Berger pulls the rug out from under them to show the audience that life isn’t always about happy endings. With a warm, stripped-down animation style reminiscent of a Saturday morning PBS show, Robot Dreams shows that making (and staying) friends is complicated whether you’re on four legs or metal legs. But the moments of loneliness and coming out of your shell are well worth it for the few moments of, as the song says, “chasin’ the clouds away.” [Jon Winkler]
Images courtesy of GKIDS, Neon, Toho, Sony Pictures Classics, Studio Canal, and Sideshow / Janus Films.
Based in New England, Allyson is co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of InBetweenDrafts. Former Editor-in-Chief at TheYoungFolks, she is a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics and the Boston Online Film Critics Association. Her writing has also appeared at CambridgeDay, ThePlaylist, Pajiba, VagueVisages, RogerEbert, TheBostonGlobe, Inverse, Bustle, her Substack, and every scrap of paper within her reach.








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