Robot Dreams (now streaming on Hulu) takes the show-me-don’t-tell-me movie M.O. very seriously. The animated film ditches dialogue entirely to tell the story of a dog named Dog and his best friend, a robot named Robot, who pal around mid-’80s New York City and, inevitably, as whimsical slightly-more-for-adults-than-for-kids animated features tend to go, work their way through some thick and sticky bittersweetness. Directed by Spanish filmmaker Pablo Berger, and based on Sara Varon’s 2007 graphic novel, the film scored an Oscar nod for best animated feature, and deservedly so.
The Gist: There are few sadder sights than watching a dog play Pong against himself. Nothing whimpers sad and lonely so poignantly. After he wins (or loses), Dog glumly plods to the fridge, pulls out a TV dinner, nukes it in the microwave and chews the mac ‘n’ cheese with all the enthusiasm its blandness deserves, washing it down with a Tab. Now, Dog lives in an era when people compulsively purchased things they saw on TV, dialing 1-800 numbers and waiting six-to-eight weeks for delivery. It was a symptom of boredom, and possibly depression and/or despair. It’s in this state that Dog sees a commercial for a robot companion and, hoping to assuage his psychological ache, picks up the phone.
Here’s when a subtle some-assembly-required joke plays out, because Robot arrives in many, many pieces. But Dog happily puts him together, ch-clicks his head on and watches as a big smile spreads across the bot’s bucketheaded face. It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship. They do everything together. Notably, Robot is naive to the grittier elements of the world – as they stroll down the sidewalk, he cheerfully waves at a group of sullen punk rockers, who flip him off, and he responds with a big grin and his own middle finger. Robot and Dog take the subway to the park, where they don roller skates and dance to Earth, Wind and Fire’s “September,” much to the delight of a crowd of onlookers. Joy!
One day they take the bus to the beach, strolling past the boardwalk arcades and grabbing an ice cream cone before staking out a spot in the sand. They go for a swim, which, knowing the nature of metallic robots with gears and electronics inside them, seems like a not-so-good idea, but there they go, splashy splashy. And sure enough, Robot seizes up, flat on his back on the beach. And Dog can’t move him. Too heavy. Dog has to leave him there overnight and when he goes back the next morning with tools and oil and how-to-fix-your-robot books, the beach is closed and fenced off until next June. Ugh! His every attempt to get to Robot is a Herculean task that ends in failure. Sadly, he gives up, sticking a reminder note on the fridge to rescue Robot on June 1 and going back to his TV dinners. Meanwhile, Robot lies there. Can robots in this reality get depressed? Not sure. But apparently they can dream, because here we are, watching it happen.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Robot Dreams isn’t 100 percent nonverbal – some characters make noises, and you might catch the rare utterance of an actual word (a bit player clearly says “hey”), a lot like Shaun the Sheep. And don’t think we missed that Big Lebowski visual reference during the bowling scene.
Performance Worth Watching: Robot’s unflappable spirit, despite his hardship (and nutty-ass dreams!), is inspiring and heartwarming. PMA all the way!
Memorable Dialogue: “…” – everybody in this movie except the “hey” guy
Sex and Skin: None.
Our Take: Robot Dreams mostly avoids the existential Philip K. Dickisms implied by the title – there’s not much in the way of what’s the nature of this robot’s consciousness-slash-what’s the nature of consciousness in general implications in the text, unless you want to dig that rabbit hole yourself. No, the movie is more thematically touchy-feely-squishy, musing on the simple joys of togetherness and the heartache of separation. This is an exercise in emotional whimsy, and a warm tribute to both the endearingly raggedy state of 1980s NYC and the era in general. (Pong! Cassette tapes! Boomboxes! The early days of hip-hop!) You’re more likely to wonder if there are odd romantic feelings between Dog and Robot – what does holding hands while lying next to each other on the beach mean, exactly? – than contemplate the existential megacosm. Which I frankly found to be a welcome relief.
Visually, the film uses a classic 2D aesthetic that mimics the bold, simple line drawings of the source material. Which isn’t to say it’s minimalist; Berger makes sure the detail of a vintage Cheetos bag is on-point, and the backgrounds bustle with the busy energy of urban life. Once Robot finds himself flat on the sand with the Sandman visiting, the director takes the opportunity to play with form – in a clever, not overly self-referential manner – and explore the emotional components of the story in surreal and humorous ways, leading to a third act that’s mighty with conflicting feelings and truths both hard and heartwarming. Robot Dreams nimbly navigates within the slice of the Venn diagram where sad and funny intersect, and does so exquisitely.
Our Call: Robot Dreams is as sweet as it is smart. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
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