Rating – ***1/2 (3.5/5)
White Bird
Cast: Helen Mirren, Bryce Gheiser, Ariella Glaser, Orlando Schwerdt, Gillian Andersen & more
Directed by: Marc Forster
Now in theaters
Social detox is a thing, and honestly, movie detox should be a thing as well – only in this case, it isn’t to be a factor of taking a break from watching movies but taking a break from watching movies with recurring themes and genres that keep repeating themselves only in misguided ways. And if it does become a thing and you understand the gist of it – White Bird is just the perfect film to do that.
It is easy to ridicule White Bird to be another love story set in a certain period that shaped the respective character today but with a trope that has been done earlier – White Bird goes above and beyond with its purity of storytelling.
Taking off from where Wonder (2017) left off, Julian (Bryce Gheiser) is trying to cope with his own self and a new school and environment. He has a surprise visit in the form of his grandmother, Sara Blum (Helen Mirren), a celebrated artist. As the two sit for a casual chat, Sara decides to narrate her own story, which she rarely talks about, and thus begins a seemingly impossible yet incredibly emotional tale.
As her story goes on, simplicity and innocence take over, and that’s ironic given how it is set in the midst of immense atrocities in Nazi-occupied France. The devastation acts as a propeller of an unlikely romance between two young hearts, Sara (Ariella Glaser) and Julian, aka Torte (Orlando Schwerdt).
The latter is crippled and suffers bullying daily but his pure love and niceness towards Sara always reign supreme. Even though there is a lot of verbiage at times the overarching theme of the film is never lost in translation. Who was Sara to Julian’s parents – The Beaumiers as they risked their lives not just for a few days but for over a year to keep her safe and hidden because as a Jew, she was consistently a target? No one. But they did. While the campaign material of the film has hammered the word ‘kindness’ to an extent where you might wonder why, once you see White Bird, you understand why! Kindness takes courage while hatred is easy – and that is accentuated to insurmountable limits throughout the timeline of the film.
Director Marc Forster, almost deliberately never lets the horrors of living in Nazi-occupied France take over with its visual treatment – instead, he treats you with imagination, stunning frames and easily every other frame of this film could be a painting. The period drama setting is constantly taken care of and it adds to the bleakness yet serenity of a world that was somehow much calmer in a certain way barring the period of the war.
What’s interesting is that Forster doesn’t take the route to showcase his protagonist’s perils of living in hiding for over a year as a tool to evoke any forced sympathy and wonder – instead, it is her friendship and love for Julian that forms the premise and her reason to survive the tough period.
Towards the end, it does have a Titanic-like vibe of how an aged elderly woman has narrated her love story that ended with a tragedy but it is imperative to not lose sight of the main motive in hand – which is conveyed masterfully and beautifully as the climax arrives. There is no substitution for kindness – there never will be.
The one big drawback that the film suffers is how several dialogues between Julian and Sara in their younger days lose their meaning due to hurried delivery and our theatre did not have subtitles. So pro-tip – watch the film in a theater that has subtitles.
White Bird feels like the warmest hug you can imagine and a cup of hot soup on a cold day that just doesn’t hit the spot but touches your soul and makes you feel wholesome, positive and of course, entertained. Watch it and it will act as the perfect break from the loud actioners or commercial potboilers you are accustomed to and have been watching a lot of recently.
