Straume (released internationally as Flow), unleashed on August 29, 2024, in Latvia by Baltic Content Media, is a $3.7 million animated marvel that’s grossed over $10 million globally by March 13, 2025, per early Box Office Mojo estimates. Directed by Gints Zilbalodis, who co-wrote and co-produced with Matīss Kaža, this Latvian-French-Belgian co-production follows a black cat navigating a flooded, post-human world on a boat with a capybara, lemur, dog, and bird. Shot using Blender software over five years, its dialogue-free, 85-minute journey premiered at Cannes 2024’s Un Certain Regard, snagging acclaim and breaking Latvian box-office records—over 100,000 tickets sold, per Variety. A US limited release hit November 22, 2024, via Janus Films, expanding wide by December.

The chaos flows wild—waters engulf ruins, animals clash then bond, per the trailer’s deluge of waves and screeches. Zilbalodis, inspired by Jacques Tati and Future Boy Conan, crafts a Noah’s Ark riff—cat’s solitude shatters as floods force teamwork, a silent ballet of survival. Chuckles ripple—the lemur’s tail-swinging antics, the dog’s fish-chomping glee—softening eco-dread, per Rotten Tomatoes’ 97% rating (Metacritic 87/100). Critics gush; NYT’s Calum Marsh lauds “authenticity in peril,” X posts rave “cat’s odyssey slaps.” Oscars buzz—Best Animated Feature win January 2025—cements its triumph, per THR. A statue of the cat now graces Riga, per Wikipedia.

The pacing’s a current—slow drifts on Earth’s wreckage surge into boat-bound chaos, a green sprout hinting hope, per IndieWire’s A-grade. Zilbalodis’s symphony—no storyboards, all instinct—marries chaos and chuckles, a silent epic that’s Latvia’s loudest cinematic splash yet.

The cast is Straume’s unspoken chorus, a chaotic menagerie voiced by nature. The black cat, a Zilbalodis creation voiced with real feline purrs and yowls (Ben Burtt-style, per Soundtrack World), is the soul—solitary, then softened, its “mrrrow” a universal cry, per LA Times’s “heroic kitty.” The capybara, a baby camel’s grunt swapped for its shrill reality (Wikipedia), lumbers with calm—its splashy paddle a steady beat. The lemur, gamelan-tinged (THR), prances—tail-flicking mischief earns laughs, per Variety’s “joker.” The Labrador retriever, all woofs and wags, bounds—its fish-gulping a chuckle fest, per X posts. The secretary bird, squawks sharp, strides—a leader in feathers, per Roger Ebert’s “natural cast.”

No humans, no dialogue—just animal truth, recorded live (save that camel tweak), per Hollywood Reporter. Zilbalodis’s crew—animators, sound wizards—breathes life; cat’s wary glance, lemur’s yoga pose weave chaos with wit. The Guardian cheers “pure instinct,” though NY Times notes “bird’s aloof.” X fans crow “capybara MVP”; they’re a symphony of grunts and grins, a silent realm’s loud heart.

Visually and sonically, Straume is a chaotic flood, a Zilbalodis dreamscape. Rihards Zaļupe’s animation—Blender’s low-res sheen—paints a drowned Earth: water shimmers photoreal, animals move raw, per Cinematography World. Chaos reigns—floods swallow cliffs, boat rocks through rapids—shot with virtual pans mimicking Tati’s play, per AV Club’s “hypnotic flow.” Underwater scenes gleam—fish dart, light bends—though Letterboxd quips “PS1 vibes” on critters. Cannes clapped seven minutes, per Variety, a visual hymn to ruin and rebirth.

Zilbalodis and Zaļupe’s score—clarinet for cat, kalimbas for capybara—soars, per Soundtrack World’s November 2024 Milan Records drop. Sound design—real barks, chirps—grips; lemur’s “eee!” mid-storm chuckles, per Rolling Stone’s “audio awe.” No words, just music—Future Boy Conan echoes in brass, per IndieWire. Flaws? Animals’ low-poly jars—Collider’s “cheap”—and third act drags, per BBC’s Mark Kermode. Still, it’s a sensory symphony—chaos and chuckles in every frame, a silent realm that roars.

Straume’s strength is its chaotic purity—a wordless fable with bite. The cat’s “resilient” arc (Time), the crew’s unity, and Zilbalodis’s vision stun; Roger Ebert’s Jake Coyle names it 2024’s best toon. Stakes—floods, friendship—pierce, per Empire’s “profound.” Chuckles abound—lemur’s tail-toy tease, dog’s “arf!” at fish—lifting eco-grief, a 2024 balm post-Inside Out 2, per Box Office Mojo. Its Latvian record—most-viewed ever, per THR—and global run (Mexico’s 800 theaters, January 2025) spark sequel talk Zilbalodis nixed, per Variety. X posts muse “Oscar cat FTW,” a silent hit reborn on streams.

Weaknesses ripple. The plot’s thin—NY Times’s “simple”—and repetition (boat, peril, repeat) drags, per Metacritic’s 87/100 dip. Animals charm, but depth lacks—The Guardian’s “surface.” Still, 85 minutes mesmerize; Rotten Tomatoes’s “irresistible” trumps gripes. Legacy? Latvia’s first Oscar, a Riga statue, per Wikipedia—a cultural quake. At 9/10, it’s a chaotic, chuckle-laced triumph—raw, radiant, revolutionary. For animation buffs or cat lovers, it’s a must; a silent symphony that sings loud.