An astonishingly heartfelt tribute to friendship, or maybe even love, set against the backdrop of 1980s New York City, “Robot Dreams” is a lovingly rendered and deceptively simple animated tale that is bursting with soul and spirit and informed by the crushing pangs of loss.

Director Pablo Berger’s animated, dialogue-free film about a dog and a robot was nominated for best animated feature at this year’s Academy Awards and is receiving a small theatrical release before heading to Apple TV+.

Dog — that’s what he is, and it’s also his name — is living a lonely, solitary life in a Manhattan apartment, eating microwaved dinners and mindlessly flipping through cable TV channels late into the night. When he spots an advertisement for a companion robot he orders it on-the-spot, and suddenly he has a new best friend: he and Robot — that’s what he is, and it’s also his name — are instant soulmates, spending their time together going on adventures in the city and roller skating in Central Park to the sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September,” the airy notes of which are repeated throughout the film.

But those golden dreams and shiny days don’t last forever. A lovely afternoon at the beach turns disastrous when Robot, after splashing around in the water with his friend, rusts over and stiffens up. Dog is unable to move his body and promises to come get him the following day, but what he doesn’t realize is it’s the last day of the summer and everything is closing up for the season. When he returns the following day, access to the beach is locked, and Robot is stuck lying in the sand, exposed to the elements.

Dog makes numerous attempts to rescue his best friend and is foiled at every turn, because sometimes the world is cruel. Not that “Robot Dreams” itself is ever cruel, but its emotions are always genuine, made even more plain by the film’s throwback 2D animation style, which is marked by the thick black lines drawn around the characters.

Dog circles the date the beach reopens on his calendar and can’t wait to get back to his friend, but summer is a long time away, and time can be difficult on a relationship, despite either party’s best intentions.

As Robot drifts into his own head, fantasizing about a reunion with his best bud — the robot dreams of the title — Dog searches for a new friend to help fill the time and the empty hole in his heart.

Without ever resorting to cheap or manipulative tactics, Berger’s film is mature in a way that animated films often are not, and is honest about relationships and the euphoric rush of feelings they deliver. Dog and Robot are friends, but Spanish director Berger (“Blancanieves”) is also playing with and commenting on romantic relationships, and he leaves the film’s ending and its message open to interpretation from the viewer.

Children will have much different takeaways than adults, but there is plenty here to admire from both sets of audiences, from the adorable and clever animal world Berger creates (humans don’t exist in this vision, but an animal version of Goose Gossage does) to the feelings and emotions he conjures up with something as simple as a cartoon smile. And “September” has never sounded quite so wistful, poignant or sweet.