Mark Reviews Movies: BIRD BOX

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Review by Mark Dujsik | December 20, 2018

In Bird Box, the end of the world is a despair so great that a person's impulse is to escape the world itself. That's not only a sentiment shared by certain characters in this film. It is also a statement that should be taken literally. The cause of the end of the world here is a collection of unseen entities that force people to see the root of their deepest sadness, most tangible guilt, or any other memory or feeling of utter despair. In an instant, the vision instills an inescapable depression within the person's mind. It is so unbearable that the receiver of the idea is compelled to suicide. Here, despair is both the cause and the state of the film's version of the end times.

This is a surprisingly rich metaphor for the current times, but then again, it would have been an apt metaphor for certain folks at almost any time in history—and probably will remain one in the future. For one reason or another, sections of humanity have seen their contemporary age as one on the edge of some cataclysm. The signs could come from the politics of the day, from some religious prophecy, from changes in the natural world, from what seems to be an astronomical anomaly, or from some simple gut feeling or complex trick of the mind that something isn't quite right with the world.

We can approach these real or perceived signs and warnings with more despair, or perhaps, we can take solace in the fact that the world and its population throughout history has suffered similar feelings of imminent doom. The world is still here, and that, at least, is something for which to be grateful.

One doesn't expect to be thinking about such subjects during and because of a film like this, which seems like a gimmicky thriller, based around the conceit that the only way to survive is to block one's vision. As long as a person can't see the threat, it won't affect the person. The threat might as well not exist. There's another metaphorical concern for you, and that one raises a deeper question: Is that kind of life—simply blocking out the problems of the wider world around you in order to survive—really a life lived?

Eric Heisserer's screenplay (based on Josh Malerman's novel) is quite clever in two ways. First, it weaves these philosophical discussions about despair, survival, hope, and actually living into this story, and it does so without diverting too far from the more genre-based concepts of that story. Those ideas a fundamental part of this tale, and it explores them by way of its sizeable cast of characters, as well as a back-and-forth structure that juxtaposes people simply surviving and people actually making the effort to find hope among the ruins of complete despair.

Second, the film is clever in how it takes advantage of its central gimmick, particularly in the ways its characters figure out how to do mundane but vital things without the benefit of sight. It's refreshing to see characters in a rather outlandish thriller who are resourceful—figuring out how to navigate a car with the windows covered or how to look at the monsters with the extra layer of a digital screen, for example—and not simply inevitable victims.

The two storylines here follow Malorie (Sandra Bullock). The first is set in the story's present, as she, quite hardened by years of living with the constant threat, and two kids, simply named Boy (Julian Edward) and Girl (Vivien Lyra Blair), are taking a boat down a river. They're looking for a community of people who have found a safe haven from the supernatural threat. By the way, they have to take this trek while wearing blindfolds, lest they see the monsters.

The other side of the story is set five years prior, as a pregnant and cynical Malorie is caught up in the chaos of the outbreak of the suicide-causing entities. She takes shelter in a house, populated by several characters of differing outlooks and importance.

There's Tom (Trevante Rhodes), a military veteran who still thinks there's good to be found in this world. There's Douglas (John Malkovich), an alcoholic who never trusted anyone—and really doesn't trust anyone now. There's another pregnant woman named Olympia (Danielle Macdonald), who is perhaps too kind for the world as it is now. Other characters are in the house (and appearing throughout the movie), too, played by some recognizable actors (Jacki Weaver, BD Wong, and Lil Rel Howery, to name a few, with Sarah Paulson briefly playing Malorie's sister), and later, Tom Hollander arrives as a stranger who claims to have escaped the creatures but has another, seemingly unthinkable goal in mind.

In other words, the flashbacks do more than simply establish how Malorie and the two children ended up alone on the river together. There's an inherent debate of ideas present in this story, even when the characters aren't directly talking about them. There's considerable suspense in the film's setpieces (staged well by director Susanne Bier with an emphasis on how these characters plan and improvise their way through assorted obstacles), but the conflicts between these characters, along with the viewpoints they represent, serve as the core of the film's tension.

Here, then, is a gimmicky thriller that transcends its gimmick. Bird Box is frightening, not because of jump scares and hideous monsters, but because it's thoughtful about the ever-present battle between the instinct for despair and the challenge of finding hope.

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