Finding answers is not Mait Laas’ primary goal as an artist; he is more interested in stimulating his audience.

From the beginning, Laas wanted to use a mix of animation techniques in Generatio. “The idea,” says Laas, “was to have all the techniques in the film because they also represent the different generations. Also, because Generatio was split up in short segments for Lost and Found, so I felt that it would be smoother technically if I used different styles. Different techniques will build different atmospheres for the viewer. The main idea, though, was to show that even beneath these different forms or clothes, the line in life is the same. I think it’s important that we recognize and respect how important that is.”

While issues of tradition and history lie at the core of Generatio, Laas also addresses complex philosophical and ecological themes. Water plays an essential part of the film. We are made of water. We rely on water to survive. Many philosophers have also suggested that water is the key to harmony in life, that our search for our own rhythm and flow in life is deeply connected with the flow of the rivers. “This ecological viewpoint is very important issue as the continuity of the most important values — the life in the earth,” says Laas.

On yet another level, Laas also explores the relations between masculinity and femininity, creation and destruction, and our desire to bring these cycles of life into harmony. Generatio is filled with a variety of odd characters (men, bees, a cat, matchstick men, a fetus and a naked woman) that seem completely disconnected, yet, in truth, they are all connected, all part of the same stream of life.

What interests Laas is uncovering this mysterious essence that unites and separates us all. “Nobody knows, for example, exactly about the soul of the bees and how they know to act collectively, it is not pure ratio, nor is it entirely biological, it is something in between and it is mysterious — that is that.”

What is even more intriguing about Generatio is how Laas’ vision and approach speaks to both the future and past of Estonian animation. Laas’ refusal to abide by a singular style is far removed from the recognizable style of, for example, Priit Pärn or Riho Unt, and shows a willingness to explore new technologies. However, Laas’ interest in philosophical and ecological issues links him to earlier generations of Estonian animation, particularly Mati Kütt (Underground, Button’s Odyssey) and Heino Pars (Songs to the Spring, River of Life). The clothes might be different, but the essence remains the same.