Ferdinand the Bull 1938

In this gentle short, a herd of bulls roams and butts heads, yet Ferdinand stands apart, preferring the shade of a cork tree and the simple pleasure of smelling the flowers. Ferdinand’s Mother notices early on that he isn’t chasing the others or engaging in their rough games, and she asks him why. A calm Narrator guides the story, presenting a boyish reluctance that stays with him as he grows. The tale frames a quiet, inward life against a backdrop of a boisterous herd, highlighting Ferdinand’s gentle nature in contrast to the crowd’s expectations.

As the years pass, Ferdinand becomes the largest and strongest among the bulls, yet the others dream of the glory of Madrid’s bullfights. While his companions envision the arena, he remains content to linger in quieter moments, a contrast that never quite fits the typical bullfighter’s path. When five curious men arrive to inspect the bulls, the herd jostles and fights for attention in a bid to be chosen. Ferdinand does not participate in the rough display; he simply sits, drawn to the scent of flowers rather than the prospect of stamping and charging. Unbeknownst to him, a bumblebee hides beneath him, and the sting sparks a sudden, dazzling outburst that sends him into a wild rampage, knocking over his rivals and even bringing down a tree in his frenzy. Impressed by this unexpected display, the five men decide to take him to Madrid, eager to present a bull who can “win” a crowd in the ring.

In Madrid, the posters announce Ferdinand the Fierce, and the day of the bullfight arrives with feverish anticipation. The arena fills as banderilleros and picadors take their places, and the matador steps forward to face the seemingly fearsome opponent. The matador’s hand is graced by a bouquet tossed from the stands, a moment that momentarily shifts the mood in the ring. Ferdinand enters, looking at the bouquet and then at the crowd with a calm gaze. He approaches, startling the matador with his size and strength, yet he does not charge. The matador, frightened by Ferdinand’s formidable presence, finds himself at odds with the bull who shows no interest in fighting—only in the scent of the flowers. The crowd’s expectations clash with Ferdinand’s peaceful intent, and the bull is ultimately led away from the arena rather than through a display of brutal force.

“All I want to do is to sit and smell the flowers!”

The moment underscores Ferdinand’s essence: a creature built for power who seeks serenity over violence. After the spectacle, Ferdinand is returned home, where the peaceful rhythm of his life resumes. He settles back under his cork tree, continuing to sit and savor the blossoms that drew him away from the crowd’s ferocious ambitions in the first place. The story closes on a quiet note, reminding viewers that gentleness can be a powerful, enduring choice, even in a world that often valorizes aggression. The film’s simple, heartfelt arc emphasizes empathy, patience, and the idea that true strength can lie in choosing beauty and calm over confrontation.