The Top 7 Animation Films of 2021

Aside from Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli's well-known productions, anime sometimes has a negative reputation among die-hard moviegoers. Additionally, it frequently lacks the same quality associations as a genuine Disney product.

The year of animation was also, when examined at for quality, a year of anime thanks to a few excellent movies in 2021, including one about happy mountaineering, one that broke box office records, one that was an offbeat passion project, and one about the conclusion of the Evangelion era.

You can't ignore the Disney behemoth, but it seems as though its family animation and that of its affiliate Pixar have been relegated since the company's attention has shifted so firmly to the live-action/animated blend of superheroes.

Nevertheless, there is something here for everyone, regardless of age, gender, level of anime knowledge, or desire to take a chance on something strange and delicious. We also have stuff here if you just enjoy cartoons.

7. Encanto 

Disney and Lin-Manuel Miranda both had stronger performances this year (Raya and the Last Dragon; In the Heights), but Encanto's advantages are delightfully subdued, much like Mirabel's, the only Madrigal family member without magical talents.

Underneath the hyper-Miranda songs ('Surface Pressure' gives in most deeply to his writing tics, but 'We Don't Talk About Bruno' shows just how good he is with catchy complexity) and the heightened realism of its characters lies a lush fairy tale haunted not by wicked witches or cunning dragons but by the struggles of the past and worries for the future.

Directors Jared Bush and Byron Howard expertly package an adult tale of family conflict that won't terrify children by setting it especially in the Colombian jungle.

Stephanie Beatriz's startlingly diverse lead performance—she sings, charms, and cracks jokes like a Disney princess—along with a few terrific backers (John Leguizamo's put-down prognosticator dominates every scene) keep the already lighthearted story moving quickly.

Among the more conventional Disney musicals, Encanto isn't the flashiest or most sorrowful, but it is sharp and intelligent, and its marvels may stay with you longer than you anticipate.

6. Cryptozoo

The often-imagined scenario of cryptids and humans coexisting is explored in Dash Shaw's colourfully drawn Cryptozoo, which more closely resembles Jurassic Park than Zootopia or other prominent animated films.

Shaw's trippy, obviously adult animated film inserts daydreams into the purposefully harsh and bleak world that its genre peers are privy to disregard in an effort to question the exploitation of illusion and imagination for human consumption.

Every fabled creature from human folklore walks among us in the cartoonist, writer, and director Shaw's film, which is animated in a manner that feels like a graphic novel come to life. However, there is one important, reality-shattering addition: Every fabled creature from human folklore is perpetually hunted due to their high demand on the black market.

Lauren Gray (Lake Bell), who locates mistreated and injured cryptids and transports them to the Cryptozoo—a live-in amusement park in San Francisco where these beings are either put on display or employed, depending on their proximity to human aptitude—makes it her life's work to stop the mistreatment of these creatures.

While the fantastic notion of cryptids coexisting with existing fauna piques the interest of viewers, the core of Cryptozoo is bringing this endearing premise into our current hyper-capitalist society, demonstrating just how easily our bloodthirsty system will snuff out the noticeably different and extraordinary.

Along with an idealistic hippie couple who, in one brutal early scene, learn a harsh lesson on imposing simplistic human attitudes on the complex natural world, Lauren is just one of the film's many '60s Bay Area countercultural caricatures, voiced by a litany of alternative comedians and indie movie actors like Michael Cera, Jason Schwartzman, and Zoe Kazan.

The movie's critique of capitalism meshes with its unfavourable portrayal of American countercultural movements, contending that its commodification prevents them from enacting any form of change; the connections to real-world situations are clear.

5. Raya and the Last Dragon

Raya and the Last Dragon is one of Disney's better action-adventures thanks to its deft and thrilling swordplay as well as its thorough depiction of styles and cultures underused by the House of Mouse. Its debut in Southeast Asia combines its classic "princess" films with a trial-hopping journey a la Kubo and the Two Strings.

Raya (Kelly Marie Tran), whose father (Daniel Dae Kim) was turned to stone as a result of a childhood tragedy, must hop from community to community in order to collect the fragments of a magical gem and pick up new quirky team members so that Sisu (Awkwafina), the final dragon, can depetrify everyone and restore order to the world.

At its core, the movie teaches a lesson about trust from writers Qui Nguyen and Adele Lim that is well-intended but poorly executed. It is explained almost like a case for nuclear disarmament; essentially, enmity won't lessen if no one is willing to take the first step.

But in reality, it's all just a pretext to take us through some of Disney's best battle scenes and environmental effects from the 3D era. Raya falls short of being a masterwork due to a convoluted yet brave conclusion, but it's still worthwhile exploring Kumandra.

4. The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run

There are numerous explanations for why SpongeBob SquarePants has maintained its popularity and steadfast adoration for more than 20 years. The constant optimism and silliness of SpongeBob (Tom Kenny), Patrick (Bill Fagerbakke), and the inhabitants of their world account for some of it.

The writers have always produced a duality of experience: silliness for kids and a stealthy ascendance of wit that immediately appeals to the older viewers.

The characters are self-referential and consistent to their defining qualities. All of those elements must be present for the humorous mode to function. In this first, entirely 3-D presentation, director and writer Tim Hill (who also penned the first The SpongeBob Square Pants Movie from 2004) is aware of that.

By adding a modest transition for the vista in the introduction of Sponge on the Run, Hill and his team of artists—including Mikros Image, which is in charge of the CGI animation—play it smart.

Beautiful, photorealistic CGI of the undersea environment changes to Hillenburg's region of the ocean's well-known colour scheme and stylised appearance, just with more presence and tactile flourishes.

The film doesn't try to overwhelm viewers with overt technological flourishes, as evidenced by Gary's snail slime appearing as actual goo and scratches in Sandy Cheeks' breathing helmet.

Instead, it offers the chance to see the characters and setting in a fresh way. For example, you could find it amusing to consider how little a 3D-generated Plankton is in relation to his explosive wrath.

The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run is a tasteful and expertly done dip of the yellow toe into 3D waters as another evolution in the ongoing SpongeBob universe. Overall, there is a respect for the characters and tone, and there is creative worth in the way the media is incorporated into the show's expectations for showing the bizarre and surreal.

Does it advance the sponge? Most likely not, which is fine. Bikini Bottom staying in its current form, with spin-offs and new series acting as the suitable playgrounds for fresh storytelling outlets, has a timeless quality. Sponge on the Run delicately balances the differences without detracting from what many people already know and adore.

3. Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba the Movie: Mugen Train

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, a brand-new anime phenomenon, is taking the world by storm. The show centres on Tanjiro, a young man seeking retribution from the demons that murdered his family. He enlists in the Demon Slayer Corps to further his mission and undergoes rigorous training to learn the Demon Slayers' way of life.

But the series is about much more than just getting even: it's about finding family, going through the grieving process, dealing with pain, and finding inner strength. Quiet, poignant moments are interspersed with stunning battle animation and choreography, giving the characters a depth uncommon in male-oriented manga, or shonen.

American viewers may now see Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba the Movie: Mugen Train, the season-capping movie, months after the popular first season ended. As part of their next assignment, Tanjiro (Natsuki Hanae) and his allies Zenitsu (Hiro Shimono), a perpetually scaredy cat, and Inosuke (Yoshitsugu Matsuoka), a man with an explosive temper and a boar mask, board the Mugen Train.

Once aboard, the group meets Rengoku (Satoshi Hino), a senior member of the Demon Slayer Corps with skill in combat, to learn about their upcoming assignment. It is up to this party of four to defend everyone on the train since there is something evil inside that is consuming passengers.

They rapidly discover that this threat is posed by a much more potent demon with the ability to control dreams rather than just a standard demon. The subject matter and animation style of these episodes vary, yet everything works together because each dream—and its aesthetics—teaches the audience even more about these characters, their histories, and their deepest aspirations.

With its vivid colours, blending of animation types, and painstakingly crafted locations that highlight the action, Mugen Train is a visual feast.

It’s a gorgeous film that expands the universe of Demon Slayer, but because it is canonical and provides a bridge between seasons, it is not a film meant for newcomers to the franchise.

2. Flee

“Flee.” It is a command, a one-word title informing the audience of what must be done to prevent cultural annihilation by armed barbarians: Get out of Dodge immediately. In a panic, run. Flee.

The latest documentary by Danish filmmaker Jonas Poher Rasmussen brings to life the story of one guy, Amin, who is a close friend of Rasmussen's and who has decided to open up about the time he and his family fled Kabul when the Taliban took control for the first time in his adult life. Being a non-fundamentalist in Afghanistan is challenging enough with those nutcases in charge.

Being a young gay man who isn't out is worse than being an ordinary, non-fundamentalist person. And the way the movie is presented both softens and sharpens that inevitable bleakness. Rasmussen has a way of layering the shocking cruelty Amin experiences and witnesses on the road to safety with an electric playfulness.

Even the worst real-life images gain a certain exuberance when recreated by hand. In his animation of Amin's perilous journey from Afghanistan to Denmark, with stops along the way in Russia and Estonia, Rasmussen shows the stunning cruelty Amin endures and witnesses.

But because the story is based on Amin's memories, which are both accurate, imprecise, and incorrect, the casual alchemical elements that are inherent to animation as a medium bring those memories into stark contrast.

Amin may be able to confront his history in this manner alone. Flee's gloom is made even darker by the fact that animation has a tendency of feeling more alive than live-action, or alive in its own unique manner.

Rasmussen is mostly allowing Amin to narrate his narrative in his own unique style. Animation is essentially only a façade. What this film depicts may be one of the most horrible refugee stories ever depicted in film, even with the layers of artifice.

1. The Mitchells vs. the Machines

In The Mitchells vs. the Machines, animated generational differences resemble a sci-fi carnival more than any other animated series. The feature film debut of writer/director Mike Rianda is a mix of absurd, adorable, and horrifying (he and co-writer/director Jeff Rowe got their start on the superbly spooky, hilarious programme Gravity Falls).

It's simple to feel as disoriented or overpowered by the flashing lights and electrifying visuals as the central family fighting on one side of the title's grudge match, but it's also simple to leave with the worn-out joy of a protracted, exhausting theme park outing.

In the process of creating the most spirited, lovable animated comedy so far this year, the genre-embedded family pops through every cluttered, crammed shot like they're trying to escape (which they frequently are). And I love how modestly its premise starts.

Filmmaker and animator Katie (Abbi Jacobson) must travel by car with her family, which includes her dino-obsessed younger brother Aaron (Rianda), her peace-loving mother Linda (Maya Rudolph), and her Luddite outdoorsy father Rick (Danny McBride), to get to college. Even when Katie isn't staring at her phone or laptop, you might be able to discern that she and her dad don't always agree on everything.

That technocriticism might be as cheesy as the twelfth season of a Tim Allen sitcom, where "screen time" is a pejorative and the stick-shifting, cabin-building father figure wants his family to experience the real world. By using both deliberate nuance and big ole anti-nuance, The Mitchells vs. the Machines avoids that risk.

Midway through the journey, the bad tech corporations messup, and phone-grown robots decide to fire all the humans into space. This narratively expansive element was necessary for this film to sustain its gorgeously kitchen-sink graphics.

With the help of some of the same technology that gave Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse its strikingly distinct look, the Sony movie gives its expressive CG comic book shading. In fact, you wouldn't be shocked to see Miles Morales swoop in to save the day once some of the crazier setpieces get going.

The Mitchells vs. the Machines' take on the Spidey style comes from meme and movie-obsessed Katie, whose strange, neon, and filter-ridden notebook drawings embellish the movie's already thrilling palette with exploding oddity. Katie's imagination frequently seeps into the real world.

This distinct and astute approach blends beautifully with The Mitchells vs. the Machines' perfectly timed slapstick, crashing and smashing with unexpected violence, rounded out with one especially geeky pug and plenty of visual asides making fun of whatever is now happening.