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WHITE BIRD
Director: Marc Forster Cast: Ariella Glaser, Orlando Schwerdt, Gillian Anderson, Helen Mirren, Bryce Gheisar, Jem Matthews, Ishai Golan, Olivia Ross, Patsy Ferran, Stuart McQuarrie, Jo Stone-Fewings MPAA
Rating: Running Time: 2:01 Release Date: 10/4/24 |
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Review by Mark Dujsik | October 3, 2024 Yes, everyone could benefit from showing and receiving a little bit—or a lot—more kindness. Few, hopefully, would deny that idea, which is at the heart of the message of White Bird. We know that's the message, by the way, because one character in particular repeats it over and over again during the course of this story, which also ends with the same character giving a Big Speech on the subject of kindness. This movie is, in a fairly indirect way, a follow-up to the 2017 film Wonder, which also preached understanding and empathy in its tale of a boy with facial differences and his circles of family, friends, and bullies. The starting point for screenwriter Mark Bomback and director Marc Forster's pseudo-sequel is Julian (Bryce Gheisar), the main bully from that previous film, as he finds himself in a new school, having been expelled for his actions toward the boy, and trying to lay low with an attitude of apathy. The lesson he learned, apparently, is that one should be neither mean nor nice, because the attention from either just isn't worth the trouble. Based on R.J. Palacio's novel, this is an interesting concept for a story, even if the filmmakers try to distance themselves from the 2017 film as much as possible. Gheisar is the only actor returning from the cast, and the only reference to the events from the last film is a vague one about how Julian was a bully. The story here stands on its own, but it turns out that this isn't even Julian's story to be told or to tell. Instead, it's the story of his French grandmother, played by Helen Mirren, who comes to visit Julian while she's in town, hears his new outlook on the world and how to act with others, and decides he needs a better lesson about how to treat people. This is a rather convoluted way to arrive at a story of the Holocaust, which is the experience the grandmother wants to convey to the boy, and given the sheer simplicity of the movie's message and the roundabout framing of this particular story, the lesson here feels a bit too naïve within the context of the actual story at the center of this movie. On its own, that story is harrowing and, as much as such a tale can be, hopeful about at least segments of humanity. We meet a young Sara Blum (Ariella Glaser), the grandmother as a child, in a small town in France in the autumn of 1942. Much of the country has been taken over by Nazi Germany, but Sara and her parents (played by Ishai Golan and Olivia Ross) live in an unoccupied region. Soon enough, signs on shops pronounce that Jews like Sara and her family aren't welcome, and more Nazi propaganda, symbols, and soldiers begin to arrive in town. Sara experiences discrimination at school, primarily by Vincent (Jem Matthews), a boy she once liked but who quickly reveals himself to be far more than some typical bully once the Nazis arrive at school, looking to detain every Jewish student there. That character—not to mention the systematic prejudice in the foreground and genocide in the background of this story—raise a significant question about the usefulness of the movie's simple message. Is kindness really the answer in the face of a boy like Vincent, who tells the Nazis where to find the Jewish children before all but Sara can escape, enlists in a militia organization searching for the targets of the Nazis' extermination plan, and apparently murders at least one member of the local Resistance? There must be limits, and ultimately, the movie has no idea how to reconcile its moral point in the face of cruel reality, which might explain why Vincent's exit from the movie comes down to pure coincidence. Most of the narrative, though, bypasses much of the horrors of humanity and the Holocaust by focusing on Sara's relationship with a classmate who decides to help her. The boy is Julien (Orlando Schwerdt), who walks with a crutch after recovering from polio, and he and his parents (played by Gillian Anderson and Jo Stone-Fewings) hide Sara in the barn of their home just outside town. During the day, the girl keeps out of the sight of nosy neighbors, and at night, Julien visits to go over school work, play games, and imagine a world outside of the barn (depicted as movies projected on the walls) with Sara. It's as simple and pure as the message the movie wants us to take. As a result, the scenes with the two children, who form a sweet bond of unspoken understanding and compassion, are effective and affecting—even if or especially because one can sense where this is going, given the peril surrounding the kids and the boy's condition. "Kindness" doesn't quite do any of this justice. Nor do those inevitable later turns feel as if they line up with the innocent, simplistic message that kindness is the most important quality we can possess and show each other as human beings. It's a fine sentiment, and it's obvious that White Bird means well in preaching common decency and showing it at work in the scenes with the child protagonists. In the larger scope of unmitigated human cruelty, though, kindness seems far from enough. Copyright © 2024 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved. |
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(for some strong violence, thematic material and language)
