12/22
Edited together at Fontaines DC: Bug (2024)
Bailey lives with her brother Hunter and their father Bug, who raises her alone in a squat in north Kent. Bug doesn’t have much time to devote to them, so Bailey seeks attention and adventure elsewhere. Barry Keoghan dropped out of Gladijator II (2024) to star in this film instead. I had the chance to see Bird last Wednesday at the SVA Theater at Newfest, and it left an indelible impression on me – an experience that makes it easy to understand why Andrea Arnold remains one of our most distinctive and fearless filmmakers. Arnold, whose works such as Fish Tank and American Honey have long depicted the fragile and wounded edges of society, once again delivers a deeply affecting exploration of adolescence and its collision with the harsh realities of the adult world.
Barry Keoghan plays Bailey’s father and is as captivating as ever
Nykiya Adams is absolutely mesmerising as Bailey, an imaginative 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 an honesty that is almost documentary in its authenticity. Through Bailey’s raw gaze, we are confronted with a world that is both brutal and confusing, but Arnold ensures that moments of tenderness and wonder break through the gloom. Adams has created a character who is not just a victim of her circumstances, but one who finds beauty and resilience despite them. His portrayal of a man embroiled in shady dealings and moral ambiguity is shot through with equal parts charm and menace.
In many ways, his character symbolizes the shattered state of authority that Bailey must navigate
Keoghan’s ability to vacillate between warmth and cold detachment keeps the audience on the edge of their seats – he embodies a character who is meant to protect but is ultimately as lost as the child he is trying to care for. Franz Rogowski also delivers a stellar performance, bringing a quiet intensity to the role of an enigmatic figure who both hovers above it all and offers occasional glimpses of humanity amidst the desolation. Bird is the quintessential Andrea Arnold – a haunting, emotive dive into the lives of characters living on the fringes of society. The camerawork is as restless as Bailey herself, moving with a sense of urgency that draws us right into her experience. Arnold’s use of handheld cameras heightens the sense of instability and danger, but there’s also an intimacy in the way she frames Bailey’s interactions with the world—a reminder that magic can still be found in even the most unexpected places.
Arnold has always been a master at portraying complex, conflicting emotions, and Bird is no exception
The visual language is remarkable in its ability to capture both the beauty and decay of Bailey’s world. What really stands out about Bird is its ability to balance two seemingly contradictory emotions: a sense of hope and the ever-present weight of despair. The film manages to capture both the haunting and hopeful aspects of its setting with empathy and ingenuity. The narrative is less about delivering a clear-cut plot and more about creating an emotional tapestry—a mood piece that speaks to the resilience of the human spirit. 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.
Bird resonates because he refuses to offer easy answers
Instead, Arnold immerses us in a world that’s fractured yet profoundly real, a world that reflects the uncertainties of Bailey’s life and her relentless determination to find her own place in it. Arnold captures her characters poetically – not through big speeches or melodramatic moments, but through the silences, the glances, and the everyday details that come together to create something deeply human.
https://mastersautobodyandpaint.com/landman-2024-dual-h-ddp-new-episode-magnet-link/