Arco

The sheer earnestness of director Ugo Bienvenu’s elegiac, even mournful tale feels as appealingly anachronistic as its lush 2D animation.

When Arco comes to its inevitable “E.T.” Inspired conclusion, the wondrous score by Arnaud Toulon may have you this close to shedding a tear. And you’ll wonder if this future is truly only an animated dream.

In its gorgeous animation and stylization of motion blur, Arco pleads us to return to a time when we dreamt about the future as hidden through fluffy clouds and resplendent rainbows.

The result is a sci-fi fantasy that’s part Fantastic Planet and part Miyazaki.

A sweet, immersive glimpse at two of our futures, and it’s clear-eyed about which aspects of those worlds we want to avoid, and which ones we have to pursue.

Bienvenu comes up with a stirring ending, one so emotional it almost paves over the bumps in the narrative road that got us there.

That mildness is characteristic of the film, which is colorful to look at but dull. The story is plodding, the characters are boring and earnest, and the supposed comic-relief act provided by the trio of stumblebums on Arco’s trail is a wince-inducing failure.

Films like this keep true film buffs believing in the animated genre. The plot exudes ingenuity with realistic themes and brings a breath of fresh air to the time travel cliché, with three-dimensional characters who are neither good nor bad. Drop everything you're doing and rush to see it.

#Arco is the best animated film of the year and the best film of the year PERIOD. A charming, down to earth story about two kids (Arco and Iris) brought together when the former travels back in time from the year 2932 to the year 2075 by accident to a world on the brink of collapse til their friendship and mission to get Arco home, with the help of Iris’s robot guardian Mickey and her baby brother Pete, brings out the ounce of hope to their world before it falls, thru the symbolism of rainbows and the power of love and **** hand-drawn animated masterpiece worth seeing in theaters and the film that I think should win Best Animated Feature at the Oscars in March, not the film that’s name rhymes with “Play Bop, See It Brothers.” And yes, I got confirmation, from the film’s director Ugh Bienvenu, that NEON is gonna give it a wide release as soon as it’s wrapped it’s limited release, which will start on the day of my 29th birthday, November 14th. And I hope its wide release is bigger than what #Anora had and that we’ll get to see #Arco in Dolby Cinema. Final score for this movie: a full-on 10/10 or 5 out of 5 stars for this fully 2D-hand-drawn animated masterpiece.️️️️️

A true work of art. 'Arco' made me feel something I rarely experience when watching animation—a genre that, truthfully, has never fascinated me that much: the certainty that I had witnessed something truly special. I don’t say that lightly. In fact, I would say it is one of the best films—animated or otherwise—that I have seen in my life. I often like to repeat a phrase when I talk about cinema: this is a film that fascinates me more for how it looks than for what it shows. Though, of course, here it also fascinates me for what it shows. From the very beginning, the film strikes me as an absolute visual marvel. The settings, bathed in vibrant colors and painterly light, feel closer to a moving art gallery than to mere animated backgrounds. I find myself contemplating every shot with a level of admiration I rarely apply while watching a film. It’s a silent kind of awe, as if I were standing in front of paintings that breathe on their own. A constant visual delight, a sensory experience. There is, however, one aesthetic element that initially throws me off: the animation speed. That deliberate low-frame-rate effect feels unusual at first. It’s not that I reject it outright, but it does create a certain discomfort, partly because I’m simply not used to this format. At times it even gives me a slight sense of dizziness, as though I were missing pieces of visual information. But as the film progresses, my eyes adjust and I start enjoying it like a kid. The rhythm stops feeling like an obstacle and instead becomes part of the film’s visual identity. It had been a long time since I experienced that kind of well-being in front of a screen: the satisfaction of contemplating colors so vivid and luminous—exactly the intensity I personally love—elegant framing, and compositions designed to get lost in their scenic depths. If I had to recall something similar, I would go back to the restored version of 'Under Capricorn' by Alfred Hitchcock—still, in my opinion, an underrated work—and also to 'Train Dreams' by Clint Bentley. The score deserves its own mention. Something unusual happens here: I often leave a film without remembering a single musical note, but in this case I remain fully aware of the music throughout the entire runtime. I can’t necessarily hum the whole theme, but certain notes have stayed in my head, and the thought keeps crossing my mind: what a wonderful piece of music. Its style feels hypnotic and dreamlike, with an undertone that makes it subtly unsettling. I can’t help thinking about 'Masked Ball' from 'Eyes Wide Shut'. They don’t sound alike, but they share that ceremonial sense of mystery and slightly disturbing beauty. It’s the kind of music I could imagine listening to in everyday life, which almost never happens to me. Where the film leaves me with more mixed feelings is in its story. When I finish a film, I never write about it immediately. I usually wait hours—or even days—to let the experience settle. My opinions often change with reflection, and what I think right after the credits roll rarely matches what I think later. My first impression was that the story is beautiful. It wins me over with its emotional tone, orbiting themes such as love, farewell, loss, and the inevitable moment of leaving home—or a place you love behind. The film handles these ideas gently at first, until the drama arrives with real force. A sentimental blow that leaves a mark. It’s a risky decision, especially for a story that could easily be watched by a younger audience. Still, I can’t help feeling that the screenplay could have gone a little further. I would have liked deeper exploration of certain characters and motivations. Even so, the character dynamics work well, and everyone finds their place in the story, even those who might normally fall into the role of **** times I start to feel that some moments exist more as narrative padding than anything else. Yet when I reconsider, I realize that removing them would probably strip away a significant part of the story. The film is already quite short, and without those moments it would likely feel too brief to work properly. A few months ago I was pleasantly surprised by 'K-Pop Demon Hunters', mostly because I didn’t expect such an entertaining film within that premise. 'Arco', however, produces a similar effect on me—only stronger. It feels like a step further: more delicate, more aesthetic, and more emotional. And perhaps the most curious thing of all is that, looking back at the year’s big productions, animated films are currently interesting me more than many live-action movies—what I’ve always liked to call films made of “flesh and blood.”

Una película entretenida que nos hace reflexionar sobre el camino que esta tomando la tecnología, los sentimientos humanos y el optimismo en tiempos de crisis. La verdad la fui a ver sin expectativas pero me sorprendió, es una gran película.

Ugo Bienvenu has confidently picked up the torch from Studio Ghibli with this charming, hopeful and exciting sci-fi adventure for young people that takes place in two unique visions of our future.