[UPDATE January 29th: Flee has been acquired by Neon, which has an exclusive streaming deal with Hulu.]
An animated documentary may not be common, but it’s also not a brand-new concept. Windsor McKay, the creator of Gertie the Dinosaur, is credited as coming up with the concept over 100 years ago, but I would venture to guess that had the sinking of the Lusitania been captured on film, he wouldn’t have sought to recreate it in animation. But in the case of Flee, a World Cinema Documentary Competition entry at the Sundance Film Festival, the film is animated not only to bring unfilmed moments to life, but to also give the film’s subject a higher degree of anonymity.
With the names and even some locations in the film changed to protect the identity of the documentary’s subject and his family, director Jonas Poher Rasmussen brings to life the deeply personal story of a man named Amir. His true story has been buried within himself for over two decades and over the course of several interviews, he opens up and comes clean for the first time about a past that would haunt and emotionally cripple most people. It’s one of the most vulnerable documentaries you’ll ever see and it’s achieved without ever showing you the subject’s actual eyes.
In a non-linear narrative, Amir’s past comes together to tell the story of a repressed homosexual boy growing up in Afghanastan on the brink of civil war. As the story progresses, you get to meet him then and now, weaving together a mosaic of a complex individual who has made about as many sacrifices as a person can while still breathing. It’s emotional and heart pounding and will make your troubles seem miniscule in comparison.
An international production between Denmark, Sweden, Norway and France, there’s a worldly quality to Flee that beautifully lends itself to a film about a man who’s journey has taken him through no less than four countries in his quest to find a safe space to be who he was born to become. The decision to keep his true identity a secret adds another layer of metaphorical complexity to the narrative, with Amir describing his own shame at having lived as a refugee for so many years and the stigma that goes along with that title in many places around the world.
There are two styles of animation on display, all of it at least somewhat limited and choppy, something that the viewer will quickly forget about as the story sweeps you up. It makes no attempts to be photo-realistic, but does strive for accuracy when laying out real places or cities. Live action news footage or establishing shots are occasionally used, which makes it clear just how close the artists came to matching the backgrounds in these real locations. When Amir is describing a story that was told to him or a memory that is hazy, the animation style switches to chaotic chalk animation where facial features are never filled in. It makes those moments feel all the more haunting.
Despite the heavy subject matter, there are moments of lightheartedness and even fun to be found in Flee, with pop hits from the 1980’s like “Take on Me” by A Ha and “Joyride” by Roxette incorporated into the score. The subject matter of both songs, however, when closely examined, really make for a fascinating parallel between the story on the screen and how they can be interpreted.
While not rated, Flee would meet the standards for at minimum a PG-13 rating, most likely getting an R rating for a few f-bombs which, by the way, are in English. With a multitude of production companies behind the film, including Vice, my best guess is that Flee will end up premiering on their cable network after it makes its way through the festival circuit. While it’s certainly good enough to be an Oscar contender and has a unique enough voice, the film would get lost on any streaming platform and it’s a hard sell for wider domestic distribution.
I give Flee 4 out of 5 stars.