Robot Dreams

Wordless, and timeless, this animated feature is a paean to the universal need for closeness with others, while understanding all things come to an end.

“Robot Dreams” is an incredibly joyous film, but also a tragic one. It’s about the universal need for us to be close to others, but isn’t afraid to acknowledge that cruelty surrounds us. Most of all, it understands that everything in life, good or bad, has an ending.

It’s also an animated movie, the very best I saw last year.

Yes, last year. I saw “Robot Dreams” in late 2023 during the run-up to awards voting for critic groups and industry associations. It’s only just now coming to American theaters May 31, the story of a lonely dog who buys a robot for a friend, and winds up having a very human evolution of that relationship.

Even in my usual rush of about 50 movies in that last month, it stood out as essential and memorable. Rewatching for this review, I was astonished how vivid my recollection was — not just of the look and mood of the film, but specific scenes and events.

A French-Spanish production, “Robot Dreams” was based on a comic by American Sara Varon, adapted for the screen by Spanish writer/director Pablo Berger. The language divide of the creators doesn’t really matter as the film is utterly wordless — and timeless.

Dog lives in a world populated entirely by animals, mostly mammals but some other critters like octopi. It’s very much the human world, with our technology and culture, but animals instead of people, who are nowhere to be found. They even pair off in whatever they like, so a cow can date a moose, for instance.

They all seem to just go by the name of their species, which I’m guessing would get pretty confusing (though postage shows that Dog shares the same last name as the comic artist, Varon). He is droopy-eared and pot-bellied, apparently smart but not especially social. If he has a job, we never see it.

Dog lives in a New York City-like metropolis, very much alone and lonely. He sees an ad on TV for a robot companion, the Amica 2000. It comes disassembled in a box, and after putting it together, Robot awakens and, as Dog had hoped, instantly becomes his best friend.

The animation style is deliberately simplistic, mirroring the comic, with clear bright lines and not a lot of detail on the characters or background. Robot resembles a child’s drawing of an animatron, with a rectangular torso, slightly telescoping metal tubes for arms and legs, and a helmet-like dome for a head, which contains only two eyes and a mouth.

It’s clear early on that Robot is not just a programmed golem but a sentient creature. He doesn’t speak words — no one does — but can make agreeable electronic whistling sounds. He can even eat food and dance, and he and Dog have many fun times together, often accompanied by Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September” as their personal soundtrack.

They hold hands and there’s clearly love between them, though asexual as far as we can see.

A trip to the beach — Coney Island or something very much like it — makes for a fun day of swimming and frolicking, but Dog awakens from having fallen asleep to discover it is nighttime and Robot and has rusted into immovability. He tries to pull his friend off the beach but it’s impossible by himself, no help can be found, so he resolves to come back the next day and rescue him.

Unfortunately, the beach is closed for the season, Dog’s various attempts to get access fail, and he comes to the harsh realization he’ll have to wait until June 1 of next year to be reunited with his friend.

During this long separation Dog, having had a taste of companionship, makes more of an attempt to integrate into society. He has fun at Halloween, goes snow sledding, and even meets a sporty duck while kite-flying that he hopes will replace the loss of Robot.

Robot, meanwhile, lies like a statue on the beach this whole time, exposed to rain, snow and various intrusions. He also has many flights of imagination and anxiety — early on mostly about being rescued, and later worrying about Dog replacing him with another robot.

The title is thus a double entendre, referring not just to Dog’s dream of having a robot for a friend but Robot’s own journey to discover some kind of identity for himself outside of just being Dog’s pal.

I’ll leave the rest to your discovery, other than to say Robot does eventually make it off the beach in one form or another, he and Dog do see each other again, but nothing’s quite the same as it was before, or can be again.

For what looks at first blush like a very simple cartoon movie with a childlike view of the world, “Robot Dreams” has a lot going on thematically. One could read all sorts of your own interpretations into it, such as an allegory for divorce or sexuality existing on a spectrum.

For me, I take the movie at face value: it’s a story of friendship and loss, of the life-giving importance of social connection.

“Robot Dreams” will bring you to tears, and smiles galore.