If, like me, you were stunned by the raw, feral energy of Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, chances are you’ve been a fan of hers ever since. Her films always have a distinctly natural and transgressive spirit, whether it was her wind-swept, interracial version of Wuthering Heights, or the nomadic road drama American Honey. Arnold’s latest coming-of-age film Bird treads on familiar ground, exploring identity, abandonment, and burgeoning womanhood with stark honesty. However, it’s also something quite different for Arnold, in that it embraces a fantastical element that she’s always steered clear from, and probably should again.
Arnold is known for her discoveries of incredible, fresh-faced talent, including Katie Jarvis, James Howson, and Sasha Lane. Added to that list is Nykiya Adams as Bailey, a 12-year-old girl on the cusp of womanhood. That’s if she can get through her unorthodox upbringing in a rundown corner of north Kent, the same area where Arnold herself grew up. Bailey is marginally looked after by her father Bug, played by a tattooed, rappin’, oft-shirtless Barry Keoghan. Engaged to a young woman who looks like she could be Bailey’s sister, Bug needs cash quick and has come up with the wild idea to import a special frog that secretes hallucinogens…but only when played the right music. Bailey also has to contend with her half-brother, Hunter (fellow non-professional actor Jason Buda), an impulsive lad who is thoughtful and reckless in equal measure. Bailey has even more family in worse conditions just a few miles away, where her mother and younger half-siblings live with a violently abusive man. From the moment Bailey first confronts him, we know that situation is a powder keg set to blow up.
Passages breakout Franz Rogowski flutters in as the odd misfit, Bird. With his strange, angular features, tendency to chirp and caw suddenly, and the way he perches rather than sits, we have an idea where this might be going with him. But this is Arnold, and we wonder just how much fantasy is she really prepared to introduce? The sensitive, quizzical Bird grows close to Bailey. She’s a protector by nature, and feels like she needs to watch over this boy who definitely does not fit in with the rough ‘n tumble lads of the neighborhood.
Arnold has said during interviews that the idea for Bird came to her in a vision of a tall, thin man with a long penis (hey, her words not mine) standing on a roof. The thought was that she didn’t know whether this man was good or bad. When Bailey first encounters Bird, after having slept in a field following a turbulent evening, her natural reaction is to be wary of him. He looks sorta weird; he hovers around then dives in for conversation like a bird of prey. The actors aren’t burdened with a ton of dialog, they are left free to interpret each situation as it arrives since Arnold also shot the film in chronological order.
This approach is a double-edged sword, however. Keoghan and Rogowski are the most tenured actors on a set full of small children and amateurs. While it offers the kind of authenticity that Arnold so beautifully captures regularly, too often it leads to dreariness and indecision. The inclusion of magical realism cuts against the gritty social realism in an unfortunate final act reveal that is more laughable than poignant. Before this, we were free to assume (hope?) that Arnold would merely tease or suggest something so ridiculous, and Bird would’ve been a better movie if she had. So much about it works, otherwise. Bailey is surrounded by family and friends who are wild and untamed, discarded by most of society. But they are there for her when she needs them most, and that’s what matters. “Nobody is nothing”, Hunter tells Bailey in a kind heart-to-heart between siblings. Arnold could’ve trusted more in delivering the most hopeful message of her career without sending Bird literally to the birds.
Bird is open in theaters now.
