Olivia & the Clouds Film Review: Animated Delight

Tomás Pichardo Espaillat’s strikingly free and constantly surprising animation Olivia & the Clouds showcases the endless possibilities of the medium.

There are moments in Olivia & the Clouds that will take your breath away, and it is this unstoppable unpredictability that makes Pichardo Espaillat’s future as a filmmaker so exciting to look forward to.

Olivia can’t get over Ramon, her past love. The plot of Olivia & the Clouds might sound basic on paper, but it is in fact unapologetically experimental and full of tangents, which is overwhelming at first. After a splendid opening title sequence, in which we are treated to gorgeous, varied animation and a foot-tapping retro score by Cem Misirlioglu (Shards of Glass), we are introduced to Olivia (voiced by Olga Valdez, Jupia, and Elsa Núñez, Truth or Dare). She is haunted by memories of Ramon (Héctor Aníbal, Codigo Paz), even going so far as to keep his ghost under her bed. The first sight of the ghost is just a hand, unfurled like a piece of paper.

From here, we are witness to Olivia’s viewpoint of her relationship with Ramon, as well as a current side plot of her son Mauricio’s (Fery Cordero Bello) own relationship woes. Pichardo Espaillat conducts this first part with a rare elegance, blending and splicing different animation techniques, from simple drawings to claymotion, alongside mixed media. The streets of the Dominican Republic, for example, are captured on camera, but Pichardo Espaillat adds splashes of colour to people’s bodies and faces. It not only makes every scene look like a work of art, but also gives the viewer a terrific guide to the characters’ emotions.

Olivia & the Clouds is also about Ramon; the film’s second part recounts their relationship from his viewpoint, employing the Rashomon effect made famous by Akira Kurosawa’s film of the same name. After a mildly confusing start, Olivia & the Clouds slots into place, and takes further flight when we switch to Ramon, and then back again to Olivia. The film explores scattered memories, centring on relationships and the physical and emotional attachments that they produce. It’s an inherently human piece of cinema at its heart. 

Pichardo Espaillat employs different animation techniques and drawing styles to clarify varying moods, such as a distinctly monotonous workplace scene. This mishmash of techniques and styles might sound befuddling, but that could not be further from the truth. Through it all, the infinite experimentation and transfixing variety form into a memorable tapestry of cohesion and beauty, complemented by split screens, fades, and swipes. The art and animation department for Olivia & the Clouds, who get specific mentions for their exact designs at the end, is too lengthy to list in full, but suffice to say they showcase some of the best talent in the industry here.

Pichardo Espaillat’s film isn’t just based around stunning animation though. The director also shows a keen eye for filmmaking via invigorating cinematic language and an expert use of space, although some refinement could have been given to the pacing of the narrative. This is a minor issue, though, when the 80-minute journey we’re taken on is so energetic and enjoyable. Olivia & the Clouds might be structurally perplexing, especially in its earlier stages, but as a film about memories and ghosts, why would it be straightforward and formulaic? That isn’t how humans work. Pichardo Espaillat is unafraid to explore the vagueness of the past and the ways in which we often improve it or worry about it in our minds.

Olivia & the Clouds will be screened at the BFI London Film Festival on October 17-19, 2024. Read our reviews of LFF animated films Memoir of a Snail, Flow, Savages, and Watership Down!