Review: Endless Cookie

 Part family portrait, part surrealist comedy, and part political manifesto, this animated documentary is a “radically heartfelt” piece that defies easy categorization.

The film’s meta-narrative begins with director Seth Scriver receiving a film grant. His ambitious goal? To travel to the remote Shamattawa First Nation in Northern Manitoba to record seven “simple” stories from his older half-brother, Pete.

What was supposed to be a seven-month project turned into a nine-year odyssey. As shown in the film, the production was constantly “interrupted” by the reality of the Scriver household: seven children, sixteen dogs, ticking clocks, and the growing hum of an old refrigerator. Instead of cutting these distractions out, Seth leaned in, weaving the chaos into the very fabric of the film.

The animation style—created primarily by Seth using Adobe Animate—is a vibrant, psychedelic rejection of realism. Characters are depicted with sausage-like noses, talking socks, and surreal avatars that capture the essence of the family members rather than their literal likeness.

Yet, in a brilliant move, the film occasionally cuts to actual family photographs. This “evidential reality” grounds the trippy visuals, making the bond between the Indigenous Pete and the white Seth feel deeply authentic and lived-in.

Endless Cookie is a messy, beautiful, and “unhingedly chaotic” triumph. It proves that the most profound stories aren’t the ones told in quiet rooms, but the ones shouted over the barking of dogs and the laughter of children. It is an essential work of Canadiana and a powerful reminder that family is the ultimate “endless” project.