Review: Olivia and the Invisible Earthquake finds hope in trying times

Each year, I have a few animated movies that are my "white whales," the ones I relentless try to hunt down, and that keep passing me by. They're normally movies that are playing the festival circuit, so I regularly reminded of them, and thus regularly reach out to various people to see if I could get a screener link for review. I send a lot of emails. A lot of them go unanswered or are met with polite explanations that screeners aren't available, usually because of US distribution agreements or negotiations. (My most infamous "white whale" remains Savages, a movie that I'm dying to see, and one where I don't understand how it doesn't have US distribution in place). This year, one that has eluded me for months and months is Olivia and the Invisible Earthquake. This week, it was reported that the film is shortlisted for Best Animated Feature at the European Film Awards, which sent me into another flurry of emails.

Ladies and gentleman, I got it.

And I'm happy to report that the film was worth the chase. Olivia and the Invisible Earthquake is a pretty fascinating watch, in that it's a family-friendly film that is dealing with very heavy subject matter, and facing it head-on. For that reason, some younger viewers might find it a bit hard to get into or fully engage with, but the filmmakers deserve credit for delivering their message so well, and for doing it with, I think, the lightest possible touch. Sure, this is a serious film that tackles important topics, but it's also a movie that's fun and enjoyable to watch. A tricky balance to achieve, but one that director Irene Iborra manages quite well.

We meet Olivia, her little brother Tim, and their mother Ingrid on a night that marks a period of change of upheaval. The lights go out. The next night, Olivia notices the heat is also off. Soon, an eviction notice follows. Ingrid is an actress whose days of being in-demand are behind her. She's a woman of a certain age, as we might say in Hollywood, which means parts are few and far between, but a lack of work does't mean a lack of bills piling up. So Ingrid and her kids are faced with financial hardship, housing insecurity, and the emotional and mental fallout that accompanies such times. It's a reality that's becoming more common for more people, as prices go up, wages fall, and work becomes harder to find. Certainly, this is a timely tale.

The family finds some relief in the worlds of storytelling, memory, and imagination. They can huddle together around a candle and pretend they're Eskimos (their term, not mine), watching the Northern Lights and catching glimpses of a gorgeous blue whale. For Olivia's part, she tries to ease Tim's experience by telling him they're in a movie, and all of these dramatic happenings are parts of a pre-determined script. Everything will end up okay, she promises, even though she can't know that, for sure. (This bit of the plot reminded me of Life is Beautiful, which I'm always happy to be reminded of. Love that movie.)

Even more than their shared stories, though, Olivia and her family find strength in their sense of community. They're placed in a somewhat derelict apartment complex through an association that seeks to match families in need with otherwise-vacant housing. There, they meet other families who have faced hardship and managed to survive, and even thrive in their way. Just as Olivia becomes more and more the bedrock of her family, so her friends and neighbors become more and more a bedrock for her, helping her find furniture, electricity, food, and more. It's an inspiring picture of people coming together to support, help, and guide each other, and perhaps even a playbook for how to face hard times.

Indeed, the film certainly wants to inspire its viewers young and old to rally together in the face of a society that's often uncaring, and the structures within it that fail the needs of the populace. The film is dedicated to the children of the world, and encourages them to keep up hope. The message is clear, maybe a bit didactic, but in some cases (like this one), that isn't only forgivable, but necessary.

And that really is the pulse of the movie. While Olivia faces these difficult situations, often depicted as the titular earthquake, there's an undercurrent of optimism that is never far away. There's a sense of adventure and excitement as Olivia and Tim make new friends and figure out new ways to get by with their help. Every time we need it, there's a little musical break or bit of humor. And the animation is so lovely, colorful, and fun that you always feel a warmth from the filmmaking, even in its bleaker storytelling moments.

That old saying tells us that it takes a village to raise a child, and that feels like a guiding principal for Olivia and the Invisible Earthquake. This lovely film tells us to look out for each other, to help where we can, and to never give up. While we don't know what the future holds, we get to decide how to act and what to do. If we all choose to move through the world with empathy and love for our neighbors, the future is bright, and those invisible earthquakes do less damage.