The Poetry of Waves: A Love Story Beyond the Surface
There’s something profoundly human about the way water shapes our lives—its ebb and flow mirroring the rhythms of love, loss, and resilience. In Waves, the animated marvel that recently opened Cannes’ Critics’ Week, isn’t just a love story; it’s a meditation on how we navigate life’s currents, both literal and metaphorical. Personally, I think what makes this film so captivating is its ability to weave the primal poetry of surfing with the mundane yet profound moments of adolescence. It’s a rare feat to capture the essence of first love without slipping into cliché, but director Phuong Mai Nguyen does so with a tenderness that feels almost revolutionary.
Love as a Wave: The Unpredictable Beauty of Connection
At its core, In Waves is a story about AJ and Kristen, two teenagers whose lives intersect like the perfect wave. AJ, an introverted skateboarder, and Kristen, a fearless surfer, meet in a suburban Los Angeles high school. Their relationship evolves from awkward infatuation to a deep, committed partnership, but what’s truly striking is how the film portrays love as something both exhilarating and terrifying. One thing that immediately stands out is the way Kristen introduces AJ to surfing—a sport he initially fears. This isn’t just a plot point; it’s a metaphor for how love challenges us to confront our vulnerabilities.
What many people don’t realize is that surfing, in this context, isn’t just a hobby—it’s a cultural and historical thread that ties the characters to something greater. Kristen’s lessons about Duke Kahanamoku and the colonization of Hawaii add a layer of depth that’s often missing in coming-of-age stories. From my perspective, this is where the film transcends its genre. It’s not just about two people falling in love; it’s about how their connection is shaped by history, identity, and the natural world.
The Visual Language of Emotion
Nguyen’s animation style is a masterclass in restraint and expression. The sun-kissed watercolor palette of coastal California contrasts sharply with the black-and-white sequences of an imagined Hawaiian princess. These monochrome scenes aren’t just aesthetic choices—they’re symbolic, representing Kristen’s inner strength and her connection to her heritage. What this really suggests is that the film understands the power of visual storytelling to convey what words cannot.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the way water is portrayed. It’s not just a backdrop; it’s a character in its own right. The whoosh of the surf, the spatter of raindrops—these sensory details immerse you in the world of the film. If you take a step back and think about it, water becomes the connective tissue of the story, mirroring the fluidity of emotions and the unpredictability of life.
The Weight of Loss and the Resilience of the Human Spirit
The film doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of life. Kristen’s sudden health crisis is a gut-punch, but it’s handled with a concision that makes it all the more devastating. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the characters respond to this crisis. Their decisions aren’t just about survival; they’re about finding meaning in the face of uncertainty.
Kristen’s recovery is a testament to her tenacity, but it’s also a reminder that trauma leaves its mark. The brightness of her vivacity burns differently, and that’s a truth many films gloss over. In my opinion, this is where In Waves shines brightest—it acknowledges that healing isn’t linear, and that love isn’t always enough to fix everything.
Cultural Identity as a Subtle Undercurrent
One of the most refreshing aspects of the film is its treatment of cultural identity. Kristen and AJ are Philippine American, but their heritage isn’t the focal point of the story. Instead, it’s woven into the fabric of their everyday lives—a snippet of Tagalog here, a reference to Filipino culture there. This raises a deeper question: Why do we so often expect stories about minorities to center solely on their identity struggles? In Waves challenges this expectation by presenting cultural identity as just one facet of who these characters are.
The Future of Animated Storytelling
As the first animated film to open Critics’ Week at Cannes, In Waves is a bold statement about the potential of animation as a medium. It’s not just for children or fantasy epics; it can be a powerful tool for exploring complex human emotions. Personally, I think this film is a harbinger of what’s to come—a new wave of animated storytelling that refuses to be boxed in.
Final Thoughts: A Quiet Stunner
In Waves is a film that stays with you long after the credits roll. Its aching heart, its primal poetry, and its unflinching honesty make it a standout in contemporary cinema. What this film really suggests is that life, like the ocean, is both beautiful and unpredictable. We can’t control the waves, but we can learn to ride them. And sometimes, that’s enough.
