An Australian stag party goes off the rails when the details of the happy couple's relationship get spilled during a night of heavy drinking and drugs in Jack Clark & Jim Weir's Birdeater, making its international debut at this year's SXSW.
There are at least two films at this year's festival in which women are introduced into men's bachelor parties in isolated locations and neither of them go well for anyone involved, the other being Annick Blanc’s Hunting Daze. Not sure if there's some unintentional messaging behind that, but it's interesting to think of the different treatments that both essentially boil down to the core idea that most men when surrounded by drunken groups of other men, are absolute trash, and Birdeater does nothing to dispel that notion.
Louie (McKenzie Fearly) and Irene (Shabana Azeez) have a peculiar, but outwardly fulfilling relationship. Irene suffers from isolation anxiety when Louie is away at work – which is a lot – and they manage her condition with medication. She seems fine with it, but we are immediately privy to Louie actual exterior life where he tells her he’s working, but he’s actually just bumming around with his male pals. Irene doesn’t seem to think much of it and just accepts his explanations as gospel, and so the relationship chugs along. As long as everyone is satisfied with the arrangement, what’s the problem?
Well, a trip out to a remote cabin for Louie’s bachelor party is about to get really messy when Irene comes along and meets up with his buddies and one other luck (?) lady who was allowed to tag along to keep her company. None of Louie’s mates seem terribly excited about having the hens around while they are trying help Louie sow his final wild oats, but what’s done is done and the party commences.
From the moment that the sun goes down it is one horrifying revelation after another, as the booze and the medication (and a little bit of bonus Special K just for shits and giggles) begins loosening tongues and the true nature of the happy couple’s life together become clear to everyone at the party. As the party moves from boys just being boys to revealing the truly messed up genesis and ongoing wholly unhealthy bond between Louie and Irene, everything starts going to hell, and it is difficult to watch without squirming in your seat.
Written by co-director Clark, Birdeater presents what is perhaps the apotheosis of toxic masculinity splayed out for eager vivisection by the right audience. Fearly’s portrayal of Louie as a kind of fearful alpha male is uniquely positioned as the actor himself is a mere slip of the thing who looks like a stiff breeze might send him flying. He’s hardly the physical type that one might expect to be a domineering partner, but that juxtaposition of outward appearance with inner rot perfectly outlines the thesis, that this kind of toxicity is insidious and that you never know what goes on behind closed doors.
Azeez’s Irene feels like not much of a character throughout the first part of the film, very deferential – we presume as a result of her anxiety – but as the story unfolds, we see a very different woman, one whose relationship defines her completely. The interplay between Azeez and Fearly is intricate and feels lived in and familiar, there’s not a lot of overt anger or bullying, it’s much cleverer than that and for that reason, the audience is much more uncomfortable because it feels possible, perhaps it could be happening to them as well and they just haven’t realized it yet.
Clark and Weir’s decision to have this entire drama play out in isolation, and even on occasion in isolation from their original isolation when the boys strike off on their own leaving the girls behind, puts every element of this story into stark focus. There is no escaping this truth, there’s no one to run to, there are no safe spaces, it’s a frog in boiling water, they just have to sit in it and stew, not realizing the extent of the damage before it’s too late. It’s brilliantly uncomfortable, in fact, I’d imagine it might be so uncomfortable that a particular segment of the potential audience might not even be able to finish it.
Birdeater asks questions about the nice guy, what’s underneath the veneer of gentility, is it always benevolence, or is it a mask for something more sinister. How much are you willing to endure in order to maintain a relationship that is clearly unhealthy? What levels of responsibility does each partner bear? These aren’t easy questions, and while Birdeater certainly presents clear villains, it doesn’t cop out and give us clear answers. The film points a finger at the audience, asking them to consider their own relationships, the good and the bad, the good in which we ignore the bad, the bad that are only that way because we can’t abide the idea that we deserve the good. Birdeater isn’t for everyone, but Clark & Weir wield their script like a scalpel, digging into the flesh as it decays even though the body refuses to believe that it’s already dead. Harrowing.