
It’s often said that the closer and more meaningful a friendship is, the more it lends itself to comfortable silences. If you take that to be true, then the friendship at the heart of Robot Dreams, between a dog and a robot in a wacky recreation of ‘80s New York populated exclusively by anthropomorphised animals, is about as close a friendship as you could ever see on screen. A story told entirely without words, Pablo Berger’s gentle animation relies exclusively on its visuals and the sounds of its home city (along with one or two needle drops) to sell us on this relationship and it’s mostly a success, the final product sweet and amusing, if definitely overextended across an indulgent runtime.
Adapting the graphic novel by Sara Varon, Robot Dreams introduces us to Dog in his charming but lonely New York apartment as he lives out a mundane and repetitive life. Struck by an ad for companionship he sees on TV, Dog orders in a robot buddy and it’s not long before Robot is his dear, dear friend. They explore the city together, bringing Dog out of his anxious shell as Robot learns the ways of the world, enchanted by it all, from an octopus drummer busking in a subway station to a group of rude punks whose hostility is read by Robot as simply a different kind of friendliness.
One day, though, after an idyllic trip to the beach, Robot is rusted after swimming in the sea and gets stuck on the sands, unable to move himself and too heavy for Dog to carry. As the summer turns to autumn and winter, the beach is closed up, leaving the two friends to pine for each other as they’re separated physically. Somewhat surprisingly, all this set-up equals only about the first 20 or so minutes of Robot Dreams, with the rest dedicated to Dog’s gradual attempts to move on whilst Robot, stuck in place, dreams of their reunion.
It’s all very unhurried in a way that will probably test the patience of younger viewers, the story devolving into mostly slice-of-life vignettes that are undeniably sweet and sometimes quite funny, but do drag on a bit (Robot Dreams runs at around 100 minutes and could have pretty easily been 80). As an ode to connection and friendships both planned and unexpected, it can be moving at points too, though Berger’s very light emotional touch does keep the impact just at arm’s length.
It’s all gorgeously animated, Dog and Robot’s designs in particular just perfect in their child’s drawing-esque outlines and expressiveness. Robot’s dreamscapes allow for additional adventure and invention, the highlight of which is a dance number set in the world of The Wizard of Oz and, as the story goes on, Berger starts to blur the line just a little between dream and reality, culminating in a half-happy ending which manages to have its cake and eat it too in a highly satisfying way. Not quite funny or zippy enough to be a true new family classic, Robot Dreams is still a very lovable ride with a surprisingly mature message about how sometimes all you can do for someone is let them go.