Yikes, Birdeater, the sort of movie I don’t like watching, but I did watch it. And in the end… liked? Not quite. Admired…? Again, not quite. But there is something special going on in Jack Clark and Jim Weir’s debut feature, a kind of Festen among the Aussies. Unpleasant secrets surfacing at a social gathering, sort of thing.
Thomas Vinterberg’s Festen, a seminal 1998 movie sometimes going by the English translation of The Celebration, is one of the movies that Clark and Weir got their cast and crew to watch before embarking on Birdeater, along with The American Friend, My Night at Maud’s, Nashville and A Brighter Summer’s Day. And one of the games you can play while watching a bunch of not entirely good friends meeting up for a bucks (Brits would say stag, Americans bachelor) party is trying to spot the influence of Vinterberg, Wim Wenders, Éric Rohmer, Robert Altman and Edward Yang as this group assemble and get down to the business of getting drunk, hashing over old times, doing stupid things and generally wishing the groom-to-be all the best for his future.
There is something dark going on here, which Clark and Weir cannot divulge immediately, or else there’d be no movie. So instead they play a parlour game of “guess what it is,” dropping hints until we twig. The first of many being that very-much-in-love Louie (Mackenzie Fearnley) has decided to invite fiancée Irene (Shabana Azeez) to the bucks do, though this isn’t how these things go. And because she’d otherwise be the only female, he invites Grace (Clementine Anderson), girlfriend of old mate Charlie (Jack Bannister) along too.
This is our Festen group – Louie and Irene, Charlie and Grace, plus Sam and Murph and Dylan. Louie and Irene don’t seem quite on the same page, and she’s also prone to fainting fits. Charlie is a bit of a dude but his relationship with Grace isn’t what it at first appears either. Sam (Harley Wilson) is a slight outsider, possibly an ex of Irene’s? Murph (Alfie Gledhill) the facilitator keeping things swinging along. Dylan (Ben Hunter), the guy’s guy, who just wants to drink, take drugs and get fucked up, sneering when someone mentions the word “salad” and not really down with the idea of women being there at all.
They are a talented bunch of actors but Hunter stands out as Dylan. Aggressively partying, he might turn nasty at any point. What will happen if we add a few shots of strong hooch? What about some ketamine? A quicksilver performance by Hunter. You can feel the threat of Ben coming off the screen.
Clark and Weir do a brilliant job of building up the expectation that something is going to happen. But which of this of the un-magnificent seven is going kick things off? And what is it from the past that’s going to act as fuel?
As they go, the aforementioned big hitters get a referential turn around the camp fire – overlapping dialogue is Altman, yes? Philosophical discussion about being in a relationship is Rohmer? Identities under question is Wenders? And on it goes, none of it entirely necessary but if nothing else a decorative way of passing the time.
I’ve seen this described as being in the same ballpark as the Aussie classic Wake in Fright, and there is something of the sense of escalating dread. But there’s also something of the work of the Philippou brothers, who inflect and infect horror movies with soapy domestic concerns and make them all more powerful as a result.
The big reveal comes late on, and while I won’t share what it is, it is satisfyingly of a piece with what we’ve been watching. All the sexual relationships in this movie are off whack. No one is quite the person they say they are, or with the person they want to be with. I’ll leave it at that, except to say this is a highly effective anxiety-inducing drama. If you like that sort of thing – I can’t take the stress – be my guest.
Birdeater – Watch it/buy it at Amazon
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© Steve Morrissey 2025
