Birdeater (2024)

Shabana Azeez as Irene in “Birdeater” (2024), depicted in an outdoor setting with rocky terrain in the background. She has long, dark hair and is wearing a light-colored jacket, with an intense expression on her face.

Birdeater throws Irene (Shabana Azeez) headfirst into a nightmare. What starts as a bucks weekend getaway for her fiancé Louie (Mackenzie Fearnley) and his mates quickly spirals into something far more sinister. The film cleverly avoids revealing its hand too early, building an atmosphere of dread laced with dark humour as the true intentions behind the trip become clear. 

Birdeater courageously delves into the dark side of masculinity. The blokey camaraderie on display curdles into something toxic, fueled by excessive drinking, questionable decisions, and a pervasive sense of entitlement. The film reminded me a bit of Wake in Fright, another Australian classic that explores similar themes (there’s an explicit reference to it in one scene if you watch carefully). But Birdeater injects a healthy dose of surrealism into the mix. Think of waking dreams and hallucinations that blur the lines between reality and psychosis.

The performances are solid, with Azeez holding her own as the increasingly isolated Irene. She believably conveys a growing sense of fear and confusion as the weekend unravels. The rest of the cast falls into familiar archetypes – the loudmouth larrikin, the nervous follower, and the quiet observer. While they’re effective in creating an unsettling group dynamic, there’s not a lot of room for nuance in their portrayals.

The real star of the film is the editing. It’s sharp and frenetic, mirroring Irene’s escalating anxiety. Fast cuts and jarring transitions create a sense of unease, leaving you perpetually on edge. The camerawork is similarly effective, often lingering on unsettling close-ups or lingering on empty spaces, adding to the overall sense of dread.

The film’s greatest strength lies in its atmosphere. The Australian outback becomes a character in itself, vast and unforgiving. The use of colour is particularly interesting. The initial scenes are bathed in warm, golden hues, suggesting a sense of normalcy that quickly gives way to a cold, sterile palette as the weekend takes a dark turn. 

However, Birdeater’s plot takes a while to get going, and some of the dream sequences felt a little indulgent. The ending, while ambiguous, left me wanting a bit more resolution. 

Overall, Birdeater is a compelling, albeit uneven, film. It’s a slow burn that will stay with you long after the credits roll, thanks to its chilling portrayal of a toxic relationship and its exploration of the darker aspects of masculinity. If you’re looking for something atmospheric and thought-provoking, Birdeater is worth a watch. But if you crave a clear-cut narrative and a satisfying resolution, you might want to steer clear. I walked away feeling unsettled but impressed by the film’s visual style and its unflinching portrayal of uncomfortable truths.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.