"A fish and a bird may fall in love but where would they make their home?" is a proverb that long predates this film. It poses the question: can two creatures built to thrive in different conditions maintain a relationship? Abstracted further: is love enough?

"A Fish & A Bird" offers an answer to this question, by way of depicting the tragic romance of the titular animals as an all-out operetta. They fall in love at first sight through the obfuscating surface of the water, and in the mysteriousness of the other each finds something with which to be enamored. When the boundary of land and sea strains the relationship, the fish is moved to change herself to better-suit her lover. When she breaks the surface and they see each other plainly for the first time, their relationship is irrevocably altered.

Despite drawing on personal experiences of feeling very fish-like in a long-term relationship, I wanted this film to embody a sense of play throughout. I took inspiration from stop motion films to get evocative performances out of my unconventional actors, and in their animation leaned into the inherent absurdity of the concept. I want audiences to laugh along with the earnest, silly dramatics of the first act, and let that joy give way to an attachment to the characters, so that the ending can pack a punch. Everything in this film is hand-touched to be reminiscent of a stage-show and to be indulgent in its depiction of the capital-R Romantic. Though the fish and bird are incompatible in countless ways, including different vocal languages (the fish, French, and the bird, Italian) and incongruent frame rates, I ask that each individual decides for themselves whether or not the love is real.