For Andrea Arnold, breaking onto the international cinema scene as a director was not an entirely straightforward task. Before creating her debut short film “Milk” (1998), the Kent-born Englishwoman built her career writing, presenting and dancing on television. Now, multiple highly acclaimed features later, Arnold has fully emerged as a filmmaker with a clear vision and provocative style. In her last narrative feature, the visually-striking yet slightly underdeveloped “American Honey” (2016), Arnold shifted from her usual British settings to the American heartland, yet she retained her signature style of tightly-packed frames and rhythmic pacing to deliver another compelling sociopolitical commentary.
Eight years later, Arnold carries similar visual and political motifs to her newest film “Bird,” a study of British society’s pitfalls that centers on its most rambunctious youths.
The main character is Bailey, played by Nykiya Adams, who is a 12-year-old girl whose foremost trait is an affinity for filming anything and everything she sees on her phone. As she did with Sasha Lane in “American Honey,” Arnold has once again chosen an emerging actress, casting Adams in her first feature as the film’s protagonist. While some clear insecurity in front of the camera is noticeable in Adams’ work, she nonetheless embodies the character well, providing powerful and nuanced reactions to the film’s many challenges and situations.
In the film’s first scene, Bailey points her camera towards a serene sky filled with birds before being interrupted by her father, Bug, played by Barry Keoghan, who blasts by on an electric scooter to the tune of Fontaines D.C.’s “Too Real” (one of many fantastic needle drops throughout). Bug’s initial appearance does well to introduce a character who — contrary to what the film wants you to believe — doesn’t change much at all. He is a loud and erratic, tattoo-covered young adult who first thrills his teenage daughter with a scooter ride, only to then cruelly threaten her due to her reaction to the news of his new fiancee. Though Keoghan looks to solidify his reputation as a recognizable face with serious acting chops in this performance, some of his dramatic choices end up compromising the effectiveness of his character’s supposed emotional depth on the audience.
Incensed at her father’s lack of consideration towards her feelings, Bailey looks for outlets to redirect her attention. After cutting her hair in a signature move of defiance, she turns to the juvenile gang led by her half-brother, Hunter, played by Jason Buda, an attempt which unsurprisingly proves futile due to her age and gender. Still, she quietly follows the group as they engage in their favorite pastime: assaulting local criminals who have mistreated their spouses or pets. But when things go south and sirens blare, Bailey flees to a nearby field where she ends up meeting Bird, played by Franz Rogowski. Rogowski — who is still riding the wave of an exceptional performance in “Passages” — has some strong moments, but the character ultimately relies more on his mysterious influence on the plot than on the strength of his performance.
Wearing a peculiar face and a knee-length skirt, Bird eventually reveals that he is on a mission to find his parents. And thus, the film’s plot is underway. After initially leaving him in the field, Bailey unexpectedly spies Bird standing on the rooftop of the building where her mother used to live. In her search for belonging and companionship, Bailey decides to aid him in his search.
From there, Arnold works desperately to give a crowded film some direction. She sets up Bird as an enigmatic figure with an intriguing mission but also juggles Bailey’s other relationships. As the film progresses, the audience watches Bailey try to resolve situations like Hunter’s girlfriend’s pregnancy scare, her mother’s relationship with an abusive boyfriend and her own experiences with the onset of puberty. If you thought that was a lot, just wait until you hear about her father’s toad that produces hallucinogenic drugs while listening to Coldplay. (Yes, you read that right.)
While Arnold’s chaotic, claustrophobic style of handheld close-ups and overlapping voices adds intensity to the packed narrative, “Bird” ultimately struggles to explore its characters and situations in-depth. It’s as if plots from separate films were all rolled into one, forcing a 12-year-old to be the only person holding everything together. Perhaps this is one of Arnold’s many points, as Bailey is being forced to hold her own young life together. Still, a slightly simplified approach to the narrative would have aided in telling a compelling story of youth and life in contemporary urban British culture.
At the surface level, “Bird” represents another iteration of a theme that Arnold has explored plenty of times before. Even two decades ago, in the stellar 2003 Oscar-winning short “Wasp,” she examined the generational impacts of British socioeconomic disparity through her patented socially realistic lens. It’s possible that Arnold pursued so many different directions in writing the script for “Bird” in an attempt to tell a familiar story from a new angle. Some of these novel elements succeed — such as the film’s touch of magical realism, which is notably intriguing yet underutilized within the larger plot — but ultimately, the film holds itself back with too many competing storylines vying for the viewer’s attention. Watching Bailey face life’s cruelties armed only with a camera app and an unrelenting scowl, however, provides a blend of pleasure and pain, an emotional experience that softens the blow of a challenging script and just might make buying a ticket worth it.
