Diving Into the Deep: Louise Bagnall and the Cinematic Evolution of ‘Julián’

By Editorial Staff
June 22, 2026

The anticipation surrounding the release of Julián is palpable. As the latest feature from the acclaimed Irish animation studio Cartoon Saloon, the film marks the feature directorial debut of Louise Bagnall. Adapted from Jessica Love’s beloved 2018 picture book, Julián Is a Mermaid, the film is poised to make a significant splash at this year’s Annecy International Animation Film Festival. By expanding the internal lives of its protagonist and his grandmother, Bagnall has crafted a narrative that bridges the gap between childhood wonder and the complex, often challenging realities of self-discovery.

The Genesis of a Modern Fable: Main Facts

The story follows a young boy named Julián who spends a transformative summer in New York City with his abuela. The narrative core revolves around Julián’s burgeoning interest in gender expression—specifically his desire to dress as a mermaid—and the quiet, evolving relationship he shares with his grandmother as they prepare to participate in the iconic Coney Island Mermaid Parade.

Development on the project has been a multi-year labor of love, spanning approximately four to five years. By the end of 2020, Bagnall had begun working on the film in a professional, sustained capacity. Unlike the rapid-fire production cycles of larger corporate studios, the process at Cartoon Saloon remained intimate, focusing on the emotional resonance of the source material rather than mere commercial viability.

A Career in Motion: The Chronology of Production

For many in the industry, the path to directing a feature film appears linear—a progression from shorts to features. However, for Bagnall, the journey was far more fluid. Having directed the Oscar-nominated short Late Afternoon, she balanced her own creative development with significant contributions to other studio projects, including serving as a storyboard artist on Wolfwalkers and as an assistant director on My Father’s Dragon.

“You kind of have to have a few irons in the fire,” Bagnall noted in a recent interview. “You can’t really just hang around and wait for something to come along. There are always other things to do in the meantime.” When the opportunity to pitch Julián arose, the project’s emotional potential was undeniable. As the film transitioned from a pitch to a concrete production, Bagnall was able to step back from her auxiliary roles at Cartoon Saloon to dedicate herself fully to the director’s chair.

Artistic Texture and Technical Innovation: Supporting Data

One of the most striking aspects of the film is its visual language. While the original book utilized vibrant watercolors and gouache, Bagnall and her team, including art director Emily, found that a direct translation to the screen didn’t quite capture the "cinematic" quality they desired.

“When you’re working with watercolors and gouache, it constantly reminds the audience that they’re looking at a painting,” Bagnall explained. “That can be beautiful, but it can also pull them out of the cinematic experience.”

The solution was a pivot to coloring pencils and markers—the very tools found in Julián’s own pencil case. This choice serves a dual purpose: it grounds the film in the protagonist’s perspective while providing a distinct, tactile aesthetic. The team also employed a sophisticated color palette strategy. Drawing inspiration from the sweltering, sun-drenched cinematography of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing, they created a "sun-bleached" look for the city streets, contrasting it with the rich, jewel-toned interior of the grandmother’s apartment and the deep, magical turquoises of the film’s fantasy sequences.

Solving the "Parade Problem"

Capturing the Coney Island Mermaid Parade presented a massive logistical challenge. As an independent film, the production could not rely on the massive, automated crowd-rendering software used by larger studios. The team opted for a blend of traditional hand-drawn animation and rigged character animation using Moho. By designing unique characters for specific shots rather than relying on a static library, and by using flowing fabrics and banners to fill empty visual space, the team achieved a sense of scale and communal energy that feels both lush and authentic.

Perspectives and Influences: Official Responses

The film’s depth is bolstered by the diverse voices involved in its creation. Author Jessica Love provided ongoing feedback, grounding the film in the experiences of the Brooklyn community. The screenplay, penned by Giuliani, leans into their own background, bringing a specific Dominican-American sensibility to the narrative. Co-director Guillaume Laurent, who brings an Afro-Caribbean perspective, further broadened the film’s cultural reach.

When asked about the influence of works like Paris Is Burning and RuPaul’s Drag Race—which famously informed the original book—Bagnall emphasized that the film’s magic is rooted in something deeply personal. “There’s a wonderful freedom to it,” she said. “When you’re talking about child characters, there’s an imagination there that you can tap into. For me, the magic is part of Julián’s growing understanding of himself.”

The introduction of Yemaya, a goddess figure, serves as a bridge between the protagonist’s gender expression and his heritage. This "divine femininity" allows the film to explore themes of identity in a space that exists outside of rigid social norms, offering a sanctuary for Julián’s curiosity.

The Cultural Mirror: Implications for the Audience

Perhaps the most significant takeaway from Bagnall’s approach is her desire for the film to act as a mirror for its audience. She is conscious of the fact that the subject matter—a child exploring gender roles—is a topic often debated in contemporary media, yet rarely handled with the gentle, character-driven focus that Julián provides.

“I think what’s interesting about it is that it actually reflects back on the audience and asks them to kind of re-examine their own ideas, especially adults,” Bagnall noted. By avoiding didactic storytelling and instead focusing on the intimate bond between a boy and his abuela, the film invites viewers to move past judgment and toward empathy.

The film is not merely a story about a costume; it is a story about the validation of a child’s inner truth. By situating this journey within the vibrant, bustling reality of New York City and the historical weight of the Mermaid Parade, the film positions itself as a significant entry in the canon of contemporary animation.

As Julián prepares to reach global audiences, it stands as a testament to the power of independent animation to tackle delicate subjects with grace. The film’s success will likely be measured not just by its box office or critical reception, but by the conversations it sparks in living rooms and classrooms alike. For Louise Bagnall, the goal was never to provide all the answers, but to create a space where the question—"Who am I?"—is met with love, support, and a splash of magic.

As the lights dim in Annecy and the first frames flicker onto the screen, the audience will be invited to dive into the same deep, turquoise waters that carry Julián toward his own realization. It is a journey that promises to be as colorful, chaotic, and beautiful as the parade that inspired it.