The beginning of Jack Clark and Jim Weir’s debut feature, Birdeater, condenses the relationship of Louie (Mackenzie Fearnley) and Irene (Shabana Azeez) into an extended, almost wordless, montage. They are young and seemingly in love, but there are cracks in the facade. What are the pills that Irene takes every night? And why does Louie promise to stay by her side, only to leave their apartment as soon as she falls asleep? These schisms widen and fester as the film progresses. In an attempt to appear progressive and caring, Louie invites Irene to his bachelor party weekend; she’s hesitant, but Louie assures her that it will be fun, and that she won’t even be the only woman there. Soon enough, they’re leaving Sydney for a secluded cabin in the woods, where they’ll join Louie’s old school friends Murph (Alfie Gledhill), Dylan (Ben Hunter), Charlie (Jack Bannister), and Charlie’s fiancé, Grace (Clementine Anderson). Also along for the ride is Sam (Harley Wilson), although Louie isn’t sure who actually invited him.

It’s a motley crew, so much so that one might not be entirely sure why any of these people are friends in the first place. Whatever their shared history, they go together like oil and water. Dylan, in particular, is an aggressively unpleasant person, eager to poke and prod at the others and then brush off their objections with a chuckle. The beer flows freely, someone pulls out an inflatable sex doll, and eventually, Louie is persuaded to put on a leather gimp suit. It’s all in good fun, except everyone seems to be having a bad time. And things get worse when Dylan tries to introduce the group to something a little stronger than beer, with tensions further mounting during a nerve-wracking dinner sequence; Dylan gives a disturbing speech, suggesting all manner of nefarious behaviors on Louie’s part,  and the rest of the group quickly devolves into arguments and finger-pointing. It’s a bit like nervously picking at a scab, just waiting for some blood to well up.

Clark and Weir, who also co-wrote the script together, tease out these various acrimonious encounters, constantly walking up to the edge of potential violence, only to then walk back the threat. It’s not unlike a drunk at the bar who gets a little too loud, a little too in your face, before backing off and slapping you on the back. Birdeater has all the makings of a horror movie, in the sense that viewers are constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Recent movies like Bodies Bodies Bodies and It’s What’s Inside leverage a similar approach to go all in on their genre premises, but Birdeater keeps the emotional volatility more grounded — there’s no high sci-fi conceit or slasher film antics here, just pure psychological abuse. To that end, eagle-eyed audience members might spot a Wake in Fright poster hanging on a wall early in the film, and it’s clear the filmmakers have used that ’70s Aussie shocker as a key influence here (don’t worry, there’s no prolonged animal slaughter). But suffice it to say that Louie is not the nice guy he purports to be, and Irene’s pill dependency is more worrisome than she lets on. And what exactly is that huge scar on Louie’s head that no one really wants to talk about?

Also working in the film’s favor are its impressive technical chops across the board. Ben Anderson creates a stuttering, jagged rhythm throughout Birdeater, holding certain scenes for just a beat too long or, conversely, cutting away abruptly, upending how we typically process conversational sequences in narrative films. Elsewhere, cinematographer Roger Stonehouse alternates deftly between naturalistic daytime sequences and more ominous nighttime scenes, with reds and blues punching through deep blacks, amping up the horror atmospherics. It’s remarkably well-made and deeply unsettling, with an ambiguous ending that at least suggests the possibility of breaking free from toxic relationships and letting go of traumas. The kids are not alright.

DIRECTOR: Jack Clark & Jim Weir;  CAST: Mackenzie Fearnley, Shabana Azeez, Ben Hunter, Jack Bannister;  DISTRIBUTOR: Dark Sky Films;  IN THEATERS/STREAMING: January 10;  RUNTIME: 1 hr. 53 min.


Published as part of January 2025 Review Roundup

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