Records exist to be broken. Nowhere is this more evident than in the realm of animated films, where box office figures have been soaring to unprecedented heights. Meanwhile, some high-quality animated films are seeing a noticeable reduction in dialogue—with some even eliminating it entirely.
First, there’s Inside Out 2, which was officially released in the U.S. on June 14, 2024. In just two weeks, it surpassed Incredibles 2 to become the highest-grossing animated film of all time in the U.S. Two months later, on August 25, it went further by becoming the second animated film in history to break the US$1 billion global box office mark (the first being The Lion King). Then, just a week later, it caught up to The Lion King, officially crowning itself as the highest-grossing animated film worldwide. The five emotions managing Riley’s joys and sorrows continued their global box office domination, making Inside Out 2 the highest-grossing film of 2024. By February 2025, its total earnings had reached US$1.69 billion, securing the eighth spot on the all-time global box office list.
However, its reign was short-lived. Across the Pacific, China took only eight days of the Lunar New Year holiday to propel Ne Zha 2, an adaptation of a Chinese mythical tale into a box office phenomenon. Driven by strong word-of-mouth influences and an overwhelming surge in audience turnout, Ne Zha 2 shattered expectations. By February 18, 2025—just three weeks after its release—it’d surpassed Inside Out 2, taking the throne as the highest-grossing animated film of all time. As of February 25, it’d already grossed over US$1.9 billion worldwide.
Yes, the global box office champions of both last year and the past month have been animated films—which are completely unrelated to highly-paid movie stars. The unpredictable risks posed by actors’ personal scandals or even legal troubles, combined with the rapid advancement and widespread adoption of AI technology, are solidifying this trend. Animated films are increasingly replacing live-action productions in the market. After all, no investor wants to pour massive funds into a film only to see its lead actor(s) embroiled in controversies—or worse, lawsuits—and in turn jeopardizing box office returns.
Let’s set aside box office numbers for a moment and talk about the artistic quality of films. A particularly interesting example comes from my Argentine friend Fredy Friedlander, a Golden Globe voter and a prominent critic on Peliplat. Last year, he discussed three different animated films with me on three separate occasions. Each time, he had this to say about each film: “This is the best animated film of the year. It’s bound to make it to the final Oscar nomination list.”
True to his prediction, the three films we discussed—Inside Out 2, The Wild Robot, and Flow, which premiered in the summer, fall and winter of last year respectively secured nominations for Best Animated Feature for this year’s Academy Awards. However, he kept contradicting himself regarding his opinions about the films. With each new release, Fredy became convinced that the latest film was superior to the last. Ultimately, Flow was crowned Best Animated Feature at this year’s Golden Globes, backed by Fredy and his fellow voters.
Another notable trend emerges when looking at these three films in order of their release: a progressive decline in dialogue in highly acclaimed animated films. Inside Out 2 still relies on the incessant chatter and arguments among the emotions inside a girl’s mind to drive the plot. The Wild Robot features only a single AI robot who speaks mostly to itself after being stranded in a forest and surrounded by animals. But the Golden Globe-winning Flow took it a step further—it goes completely silent.
The Latvian black cat, which neither speaks nor conforms to anthropomorphism, not only captivated audiences but also achieved a rare feat: earning nominations for both Best Animated Feature and Best International Feature at the Academy Awards.
Since the film contains not a single line of dialogue, neither the protagonist—a little black cat—nor the other drifting animals accompanying it have humanly-recognizable names. Apart from the capybara, they also lack any significant anthropomorphization. Due to its naturally high-pitched and piercing cry, the sound designer replaced it with the call of a juvenile ostrich. Well, that’s not exactly anthropomorphization—it’s more like “ostrich-morphization.” Aside from this, every animal’s appearance and vocalization in the film stem from years of meticulous research by director Gints Zilbalodis.
As a Latvian filmmaker and devoted pet owner, Zilbalodis is naturally well-versed in the behavior of black cats and golden retrievers. His portrayals of the capybara, ring-tailed lemur, and secretary bird, however, are the result of patient observation and documentation at the zoo. As for the whale, the initial plan was to render it in Blender using real-life footage of these massive marine mammals as reference. But in the end, he couldn’t resist adding some artistic touches, enhancing its aura of mystery.
In a post-human, future waterworld, these animals—driven by both instincts and distinct personalities—board their own Noah’s Ark, saving themselves on-screen while crafting a story of survival and companionship that resonates deeply with human audiences. Yet, their accidental teaming up also brings an undercurrent of tension. The sensitive, timid black cat and the lazy, sleep-loving capybara are naturally solitary creatures. Meanwhile, their three companions aboard the Ark—the loyal golden retriever, the greedy lemur, and the far-sighted secretary bird—are social animals who’ve gone rogue, breaking away from, and even turning against their own. Then there’s the ever-present whale, always appearing at the brink of disaster to lend a helping hand (or rather, a helping fin), as if serving as the ferryman of this aimless, drifting journey.
Curious about the intelligence of these unlikely shipmates, I asked DeepSeek to generate an IQ ranking for them. The results, from highest to lowest, were: the golden retriever, the lemur, the cat, the capybara, the secretary bird, and finally, the whale. DeepSeek clarified that this ranking was a rough estimate based on the animals’ general cognitive abilities. The two lowest placements were especially surprising—after all, whales are often depicted in nature documentaries as highly intelligent giants, and the secretary bird in this film is practically a sage, a spiritual mentor of sorts. It chooses to abandon its own kind, patiently watching over the Ark’s inhabitants, and only takes flight once it’s certain they’ll all be safe. Of course, DeepSeek also added a caveat: given the vast differences in environmental and behavioral patterns among flying, water, and land creatures, the rankings might not be entirely accurate.
In the end, my question is this: Do human actors even matter anymore? Box office and critical successes like Ne Zha 2 and Inside Out 2 suggest that movies are actually better without humans. And does spoken language still hold significance? Perhaps only when we no longer need to follow dialogue to keep up with films in our native tongue, or rely on subtitles to understand foreign ones, can we truly experience.
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