Robot Dreams, 2023.
Directed by Pablo Berger.
Featuring the voice talents of Ivan Labanda, Graciela Molina, José Mediavilla, José García Tos, Esther Solans, Tito Trifol, and Rafa Calvo.
SYNOPSIS:
Adapted from Sara Varon’s graphic novel, Robot Dreams tells the story of Dog, a lonely soul who decides to buy himself a new companion in the shape of Robot, delivered in parts for home assembly but soon lovingly transformed into a fully functioning friend.
Set in an alt-world ’70s New York where humans have been replaced by anthropomorphised-animals, yet birds are still birds, it’s little wonder that Dog is having a loneliness enforced existential crisis. Whether he catches a glimpse of the loving cross-breed couple across from him watching a movie in each others arms, or his own sad reflection as he turns off a television dominated by representations of companionship and love, nothing is making this puppy’s tail wag.
That is until he orders a mail-order robot, who looks a little like Futurama‘s Bender, but comes without the attitude. In fact, his presets are perfect for Dog, as the two form a montage-heavy friendship of hand-holding and happiness.
As with all great stories of love, for that’s what this is, their Earth, Wind & Fire accompanied friendship rusts to a standstill when a trip to the beach triggers a forced separation that brings a level of anxiety and longing usually reserved for Oscar nominated dramas.
As you can probably tell, Robot Dreams isn’t your run-of-the-mill animated buddy-movie for the sprogs. Largely dialogue-free, littered with deadpan comedy, and with a funk soundtrack that’ll have you humming ‘September’ as you bask in the same kind of melancholy glow brought on by Celine Song’s similarly themed Past Lives, Pablo Berger’s friendship-fable doesn’t shy away from the hard truths of loneliness, and being a grown up navigating the trials of life.
That’s not to say that this is a depressing tale, it’s quite the opposite. Robot Dreams offers up a message of hope. Sadness acts as a comma to a lot of what befalls Robot and Dog, but the full stop is a note of optimism. Robot’s locked-in months spent trapped on a beach in isolation are bleak, but his relationship with a family of nesting birds is joyous, if fleeting.
And therein lies the film’s overriding message about on the brevity of life and living for the now, which Pablo Berger wraps in a beautifully realised world of animation that feels creatively fresh in a saturated genre.
Never showy, it’s the small touches that charm; Robot’s pencil line mouth, Dog’s wagging tail, or the moment he uses a towel on the beach to remove his swim shorts. As well as addressing the grander themes, it also perfectly captures the minutiae of life.
At 104 mins it is slightly too long, especially considering the vignette-style structure, which can’t help but make things feel repetitive by about the half way mark, but it ends in a way that’ll double the size of your heart and make you feel great about life….for a short while at least.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Matt Rodgers – Follow me on Twitter
