
By Kristy Puchko, Entertainment Editor
September 13, 2026
In an era dominated by relentless franchise fatigue, where cinema screens are crowded with the latest iterations of The Super Mario Galaxy, the fifth installment of Toy Story, and a flurry of creature-feature sequels, a rare, shimmering gem has emerged from the Toronto International Film Festival. That film is Julián, an enchanting, hand-drawn animated feature based on Jessica Love’s beloved children’s book, Julián Is a Mermaid.
Directed by Louise Bagnall and brought to life by the visionary artisans at Cartoon Saloon—the studio behind critical darlings like The Secret of Kells and Wolfwalkers—Julián is more than just a charming adaptation. It is a profound, visually arresting meditation on identity, the courage required to be one’s authentic self, and the transformative power of finding one’s community.
The Core Narrative: A Summer of Self-Discovery
At its heart, Julián is a intimate summer-set story that captures the volatile, vibrant energy of childhood. The titular protagonist (voiced by Knyght Darius Jack) is a spirited, imaginative boy who travels to Brooklyn to spend the season with his Dominican American abuela, played with nuanced gravity by Milcania Diaz-Rojas.
The film opens with a sharp contrast in generational perspectives. Julián’s father, Javi (Anthony Sardinha), is a supportive, free-spirited parent who celebrates his son’s eccentricities—from his love of the ocean to his penchant for leaving glitter in his wake. In contrast, his abuela is a woman of strict routines and traditional expectations. Her arrival brings an immediate tension, as Julián must navigate a new environment where his natural exuberance is frequently met with the "my way or the highway" philosophy of an older, more rigid generation.
The narrative arc functions as a masterclass in character development. While the original 40-page picture book presents an abuela who is almost immediately accepting of her grandson’s desire to express himself, the film expands this dynamic. It allows for a slower, more realistic friction, showcasing the genuine struggle of a grandmother trying to protect her grandson from a world she fears will not be kind to him, while unintentionally causing him the very pain she hopes to avoid.

Chronology: From Book Pages to the Big Screen
The journey of Julián from page to screen is a testament to the power of expansion without dilution.
- The Setup: The first act masterfully establishes the stakes. Julián, in a sequence reminiscent of the whimsical chaos found in Paddington, attempts to acclimate to his grandmother’s home, leading to a series of endearing but frustrating mishaps that highlight the disconnect between the two generations.
- The Conflict: Julián’s world expands when he encounters a group of local girls planning their "mersonas" for the upcoming Coney Island Mermaid Parade. His desire to participate—and his subsequent heartbreak when his grandmother misinterprets his aesthetic needs—serves as the film’s emotional pivot.
- The Climax: Rather than a simple resolution, the film builds toward a high-stakes, race-against-time sequence. Julián decides to strike out on his own to join the parade, while his abuela, realizing the depth of her error, embarks on a desperate mission to find him and provide the support he needed all along.
- The Resolution: The final act provides a cathartic release. The parade itself, filled with diverse, queer-coded characters, serves as the backdrop for a beautiful moment of intergenerational reconciliation and community affirmation.
Artistic Vision: The Aesthetics of Emotion
Visually, Julián is a triumph. In an industry where 3D CGI has become the default standard for theatrical releases, director Louise Bagnall makes a bold, deliberate choice to return to the tactile roots of animation.
The film rejects the hyper-realistic polish of modern blockbusters in favor of an aesthetic that mimics the texture of markers and crayons. The Afro-Latino neighborhood of Brooklyn is rendered with vibrant, saturated colors that pulse with life. The character designs are soft-edged and rounded, perfectly mirroring Julián’s own effervescent energy.
When the story shifts into the realm of the boy’s imagination, the film becomes truly transcendent. Watery fish dance through the air, and celestial creatures soar above the city skyline. These sequences invoke the magical realism of Studio Ghibli’s Spirited Away and the gentle, observational wonder of Craig of the Creek. It is a visual language that feels both grounded in the grit of urban life and untethered by the constraints of reality.
Supporting Data: Animation as an Art Form
While the film is a standout, it is important to contextualize it within the broader landscape of 2026 animation. We are currently living through a cycle of high-budget sequels and animal-centered adventures (Hoppers, Swapped, GOAT). Amidst this, Julián serves as a "solid stone in the path," as the saying goes, in the collective construction of animation as a serious, emotive art form.
The voice acting, particularly from Knyght Darius Jack, elevates the material beyond its source. His performance captures the stifled, heavy silence of a child told he is "too much," and the soaring, unadulterated joy of a child finally seen. When the animation shifts from fluid, dancing lines to the rigid, stilted movements of a boy hiding his true self, the visual impact is devastatingly effective.

Implications for LGBTQ+ Representation
Julián is a significant achievement in inclusive storytelling. Crucially, the film never relies on didactic, adult-centered labels. There is no scene where the protagonist "comes out" or engages in sociological debates regarding his identity. He is simply a child who loves what he loves.
The film treats his internal experience with dignity, acknowledging the presence of homophobia—the stifling "protection" of rigid gender norms—without letting it define the narrative. Instead, the film focuses on the blooming of love. By the time the credits roll, the message is clear: when a child is embraced by their family and their community, they do not just survive; they flourish.
Critical Reception and Final Thoughts
Following its North American premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, the critical consensus has been overwhelmingly positive. Critics have praised the film’s ability to handle delicate themes with a light, confident touch.
Julián does not aim to be "better" than the classics that preceded it; rather, it stands alongside them as a necessary, beautiful addition to the canon of stories about queer youth. It is a film that validates the experience of those who have felt misunderstood, and it serves as a powerful reminder that the world is a much brighter place when we allow people to be their authentic selves.
If you are looking for a film that will challenge your heart, delight your eyes, and remind you why we go to the theater in the first place, Julián is an essential watch. It is, without question, one of the most important and deeply moving animated features of 2026.
