Despite Flaws, 'Bird's Magical Realism Reaches Transcendence

Andrea Arnold sits in an exciting but complicated position in British film; her small filmography has significantly influenced the next generation of independent British filmmakers (predominantly female directors), but her work is not readily financed and, it turns out, difficult to produce. It may explain why it’s taken eight years since her last fiction feature, after nearly a decade working with less autonomy on American television and making Cow, a minimalist, atmospheric documentary about a day in the life of a dairy cow (where there was no chance of creative meddling).

But Arnold’s vision doesn’t take well to interference or restrictions, as they usually involve building characters around non-professional actors and embracing spirited and chaotic instincts on set. Her latest film, Bird, was beset with more setbacks than her previous films. Although you can see signs of a cluttered script and rushed production in her Gravesend-set social drama, the dream team of Arnold, Robbie Ryan (the cinematographer on nearly every Arnold film since 2003), and editor Joe Bini blend dream-logic, handheld cinema vérité, and a range of small, competing screens and cameras to tell the story of Bailey (Nykiya Adams), a 12-year-old living between two impoverished sides of her family.

Bailey is fighting for attention and respect from her re-engaged dad Bug (Barry Keoghan) while cautiously working out if she can return to her mother Peyton (Jasmine Jobson) and younger siblings, whose new boyfriend Skate (James Nelson-Joyce) brings a dangerous, violent presence to the house Bailey left. When she meets a strange, accented drifter named Bird (Franz Rogowski) in search of long-lost parents, her curiosity leads to a quest to heal his familial grief – perhaps so she can prove to herself that lost people can rediscover a home that wants them.