Birdeater ★★½
(MA15+) 113 minutes
There’s something about the Australian outback that, when captured correctly, can evoke a sense of claustrophobia and dread. Perhaps it’s the quiet isolation of it – a beautiful landscape that could suddenly turn harsh, and no one can hear you scream.
Birdeater uses the seclusion of the landscape to build and sustain a deep psychological unease. The Australian feature debut, which premiered at the Sydney Film Festival last year, opens with a young engaged couple, Irene (Shabana Azeez) and Louie (Mackenzie Fearnley), going about their regular home routines. There are subtle hints that their relationship has an element of unhealthy codependency; a repeated motif of water pouring into a glass is a clue that eventually becomes explicit.
In what he describes as a “super-modern” decision, Louie invites Irene along to his bucks weekend in the bush, appeasing the separation anxiety that defines his relationship.
Louie’s friends, particularly the boorish Dylan (Ben Hunter), epitomise the blokey Australian pack mentality. The presence of women – another friend, Charlie (Jack Bannister), also brings his partner, Grace (Clementine Anderson) – complicates the dynamic of the typically male ritual.
Irene and Grace are passive viewers of both their own degradation and the substance-fuelled antics characteristic of the bucks party; the latter descends into an hour-long dreamlike sequence, in which reality and hallucination seem to blur as horror, fear and derangement increase.
Birdeater is highly stylised in a way that feels distinctly Australian – a glimpse of a poster for Wake in Fright, Ted Kotcheff’s 1971 film considered the quintessential classic of the Australian new wave, hints at filmmaking duo Jack Clark and Jim Weir’s aesthetic influences. The haunting original score by Andreas Dominguez, and the wild, sparse atmosphere of the film’s setting – it was shot on location in the remote village of St Albans, NSW – both effectively add to the creeping dread of the whole affair.
The film’s characterisation and pacing leave more to be desired. Louie is the archetypal “nice guy” – we all know by now that these are the men who are often perpetrators of emotional abuse and coercive control, so it’s not new or surprising commentary. The talented Hunter deftly switches between larrikinism and malice as Dylan, but the character is almost cartoonishly villainous. Charlie and Grace are revealed to be Christians saving themselves for marriage, which seems at odds with their relaxed personalities and debauched habits; this plot point does serve a purpose, but is introduced in a sudden and jarring way.
Toxic masculinity is rightfully being explored more often in popular media, but despite its admirable goal to subvert or critique it, Birdeater remains uncomfortably steeped in the male gaze.
Plot-wise, the film has two modes: its first half often ignores the storytelling advice to show rather than tell, and from the point of escalation onwards, it feels choppy, manic, and incoherent. Perhaps that’s the point of the mind games at play, but tonal inconsistencies and narrative issues make Birdeater ultimately difficult to believe in – it has style in spades but lacks significant substance.
Birdeater is out in cinemas on Thursday.
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