BIRDEATER - Mark Reviews Movies

Birdeater, Dark Sky Films

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Review by Mark Dujsik | January 9, 2025

Something's wrong from the start of Birdeater, as we watch a romance blossom and transform over an unspecified period of time. The montage that opens directors Jack Clark, who also wrote the screenplay, and Jim Weir's movie is unsettling in a way we can't and, perhaps, aren't supposed to place at the offset.

The couple at its center is made up of Louie (Mackenzie Fearnley) and Irene (Shabana Azeez), who lock eyes on a beach one day, spend some time in bed at his apartment, and suddenly find themselves in a regular routine. Watching this relationship from afar and in glimpses and without any context beyond what's right in front of us, it looks happy and like two people in love.

Then, Irene starts to become anxious whenever Louie leaves the apartment, and a little pill pretty much puts her right to sleep. Questions emerge—about Irene maybe being too dependent on him and, more noticeably, Louie's complete apathy in watching her take those pills. Answers are coming eventually, but as striking as this opening scene may be, the filmmakers' insistence on putting such flourishes of style over storytelling and characterization make those answers feel hollow.

The main section of the story revolves around a bachelor party being held in Louie's honor by his closest or, at least, current group of friends. That tells us where he and Irene are at in their relationship, although there's something odd about how all of this seems to be something of a surprise to her. Just how many of those pills is she taking, and with what frequency is she taking them? Yes, there's something decidedly off about the relationship, the party, some or all of these friends, and, mostly, Louie, who seems to exist with a smug look on his face and an air of entitlement in his every word and action.

Such a description of the guy might be giving away too much about the path of Clark's screenplay. Then again, the course of this narrative is so hazy and indeterminate that it's difficult to tell when things are revealed and when the general mood of the movie tells us more than anyone or anything within it.

We know, for example, that Louie isn't the good boyfriend, fiancé, or, for that matter, man he believes himself to be well before characters question his personality or directly call out his deeds. For one thing, there's something about Fearnley's performance, which is genuinely and intentionally chilling, that says more than any line of dialogue or hidden action could communicate.

Louie is always looking, always assuming, and always in a state of defensiveness, as if he's waiting and preparing for the moment when someone will finally say something about him—something he thinks he has kept a secret from the world. Once we learn what that something—or, more appropriately, things—is here, it's less of a shock and more of a shrug. We can see Louie, no matter how hard he tries to hide himself.

At one point, a character calls him "boring," and that's also right—about his personality, which is entirely about control, but, unfortunately, about this study of the guy, too. Sure, the filmmakers include other characters, those friends joining him at the party at a remote cabin in the woods, to play off Louie. His best friend Charlie (Jack Bannister), for example, is a guy with his own secret—pretending to be a devout Christian and virgin for his girlfriend Grace (Clementine Anderson), who has been invited along with Irene. Then, there's Dylan (Ben Hunter), the most outgoing and fun-loving of the trio of guy pals, who seems as if he might be a problematic character—until it turns out his vocal nature could be a problem for Louie.

Also there are Murph (Alfie Gledhill), a newer friend whom Louie has asked to perform a secret task, and Sam (Harley Wilson), one of Irene's friends whom Louie stares at—especially when Sam talks to Irene. He suspects something about the two and hesitates in voicing those suspicions.

The movie is most compelling, not in getting to know Louie (whom we'd probably rather avoid), but in watching him squirm. There's a devious scene here, involving a game of secret questions and stated answers, that lets everyone talk about Louie without giving him any information about what they're actually saying about him. It's especially clever because Louie is a guy who has an answer for everything—what he wants from Irene, the circumstances of their first meeting, those pills. The moment challenges him in a way no other scene in the movie does, because he can't account for what he doesn't know is being said.

Otherwise, the movie is very busy with its editing—quickly cut scenes of partying and flashbacks bleeding into the present—and cagey with its actual details. We comprehend Louie before Birdeater finally gets around to telling and showing us the kind of guy he is. The only thing more uncomfortable than watching him continue his ways is the movie's cop-out of an ending. It suggests two potential resolutions, which is only possible if the movie also perceives the character making the choice as not worthy of having one.

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