A Horror Movie Review by Hope Madden

Introduction

Directed by Jack Clark and Jim Weir, this Australian film takes viewers on a rollercoaster ride through the chaotic world of a bachelor party gone awry. At its core, Birdeater examines the complexities of relationships against a backdrop of testosterone-fueled debauchery in the unforgiving Australian Outback. As the bride-to-be, Irene, joins her fiancé Louie and his rowdy friends for a weekend of merrymaking, what begins as a simple celebration quickly devolves into a whirlwind of awkward moments and uncomfortable truths. With its provocative themes and commitment to authenticity, Birdeater aims to challenge traditional ideas of masculinity and explore the often murky waters of male-female dynamics.

Synopsis

A bride-to-be joins her own fiance’s bachelor party in the remote Australian Outback. As the festivities spiral into beer-soaked chaos, uncomfortable details about their relationship are exposed, turning the celebration into a feral nightmare.

Release date: 18 July 2024

Directors: Jim Weir, Jack Clark

Distributed by: Umbrella Entertainment

Review of Birdeater

Birdeater gets off to a slow but promising start. Louie (Mackenzie Fearnley) and Irene (Shabana Azeez) have an unusual relationship. To give more details than that would be to eliminate some of the film’s surprise, so I won’t. Co-writers/co-directors Jack Clark and Jim Weir have a plan for unveiling information as it is most provocative, and I’ll leave it to them to provoke you.

Irene is anxious about the couple’s upcoming wedding. Louis is anxious about Irene’s anxiety about the wedding. So, he invites her along on his “box party” — the Australian term for bachelor party.

What follows is an unrelentingly awkward, fairly twisted tale of sexual politics, blow up dolls, drunkenness, ketamine, big cat tranquilizers, bonfires, and the nature of consent.

It seems important to point out the Wake in Fright movie poster hanging in best man Dylan’s (Ben Hunter) apartment. Like Ted Kotcheff’s unhinged 1971 Outback classic, Birdeater seeks to upset you as it digs into Australian ideas of masculinity. On the whole, it succeeds in that aim—not to the scarring degree of Wake in Fright, but success nonetheless.

Louie’s BFFs Dylan—the boisterous, manly troublemaker—and Charlie (Jack Bannister), the Christian whose brought his also-Christian girlfriend (Clementine Anderson), have plans for the event. But Louie has his own plans and he does not want anything to mess with that.

Birdeater’s greatest success is investment in character. These people feel authentic, which is amazing given their behavior. Their relationships feel truthful and you find yourself invested more in what happens to the side characters than the bride and groom.

Louie’s plans and his mates’ come to a head, which is where Birdeater explodes into messy, fascinating, unrelated pieces. The surface story of bachelor party debauchery—of traditional masculinity run amuck—delves into a chaotic celebration where excess reigns supreme, highlighting the absurd lengths men will go to in order to assert their manhood.

Alongside this, the underlying and far more distressing story of male/female relationships is explored, giving the narrative a deeper resonance that sometimes reflects something insightful about the complexities of love and companionship. However, just as often, these themes feel slapped together nonsensically, as if the characters are wandering aimlessly through the plot, disconnected from their intentions.

The story can feel held together with contrived opportunities for exposition, leaving the reader wondering if the chaotic elements are a deliberate artistic choice or a mere oversight in narrative cohesion. Ultimately, Birdeater captures the tumultuous dynamics of modern masculinity and relationships, even if it lacks the clarity that might elevate its commentary.

Recently, Halina Reijn tackled prickly ideas of female sexuality, power, and gender politics with Babygirl. It explored one woman’s seemingly misogynistic choices, but by remaining true to the protagonist’s point of view, the film itself exposes something else.

Conclusion

Birdeater paints itself into a corner it can’t figure out how to escape, primarily because, though the male characters throughout the film wonder at Irene’s choices, the men writing and directing the film don’t seem to understand them. Instead, we spend 90 minutes inside a male perspective as they guess at (and, indeed, create) female motivations. This leads inevitably to a climax that can’t help but be unsatisfying.