41/39
Bailey seeks attention and adventure elsewhere
Chronology
Bailey lives with her brother Hunter and her father Bug, who is raising them alone in a shack in North Kent. Bug doesn’t have much time to devote to them. Barry Keoghan dropped out of Gladiator II (2024) to star in this film instead.. Edited in Fontaines D.C.: Bug (2024). I had the opportunity to present Bird at Newfest last Wednesday at the SVA Theatre, and it left an indelible impression on me – an experience that makes it easy to see why Andrea Arnold remains one of our most distinctive and fearless filmmakers. Arnold, whose works such as Fish Tank and American Honey have long portrayed the fragile and bruised edges of society, once again offers a deeply affecting exploration of youth and its collision with the harsh realities of the adult world.
Nykiya Adams is absolutely mesmerizing as Bailey
, a resourceful teenager trying to make sense of the world around her while living on the outskirts of Kent, England. Her performance is a revelation full of subtlety, grace and the kind of honesty that feels almost documentary in its authenticity. Through Bailey’s unflinching gaze, we’re confronted with a world that’s both brutal and stunning, but Arnold makes sure that moments of tenderness and wonder strike through the bleakness. Adams has created a character who is not just a victim of her circumstances, but is a figure who finds beauty and resilience in spite of them. Barry Keoghan plays Bailey’s father and is as captivating as ever. His portrayal of a man entangled in shady relationships and moral ambiguity is layered with equal parts charm and menace.
on the fringes of society
Keoghan’s ability to oscillate between warmth and cold detachment keeps the audience on edge – he embodies a character he’s meant to protect but is ultimately as lost as the child he’s trying to care for. In many ways, his character epitomizes the fractured state of authority that Bailey must navigate. Franz Rogowski also gives a standout performance, bringing a quiet intensity to the role of an enigmatic figure who hovers and offers occasional glimmers of humanity amidst the darkness. The Bird is quintessential Andrea Arnold – a gripping and visceral dive into the lives of living characters. The camera work is as hectic as Bailey herself, moving with a sense of urgency that pulls us right into her experience. Arnold’s use of handheld cinematography heightens the sense of instability and danger, but there’s also an intimacy in the way he frames Bailey’s interactions with the world—a reminder that it still exists.
magic to be found, even in the most unexpected places
The visual language here is striking in its ability to capture both the beauty and decay of Bailey’s world. What really stands out about Bird is his ability to balance two seemingly contradictory feelings: a sense of hope and the pervasive heaviness of it. despair. The film manages to capture both the haunting and hopeful aspects of the setting with empathy and ingenuity. Arnold has always been adept at portraying complex, conflicting emotions, and Bird is no exception. The narrative is less about providing a clear plot and more about creating an emotional tapestry—a mood piece that speaks to the resilience of the human spirit.
The bird resonates because it refuses to give simple answers
There’s an almost Roger Ebert-esque appreciation for the small moments here, the kind of fleeting beauty that reminds us why we watch movies in the first place. Instead, Arnold immerses us in a world that is fractured but deeply real, a world that mirrors the uncertainties of Bailey’s life and her unwavering determination to find her own place within it. There’s a poetry to the way Arnold captures his characters—not through grandiose speeches or melodramatic moments, but through the silences, glances, and mundane details that add up to something deeply human.