Someday I’d like to study cinematic dystopias. My heart tells me they date exactly back to Trump’s election or at least have intensified since then, and for good reason. My head knows neither of these thoughts are true. I’ve been watching dystopian films since Logan’s Run and Empire of the Ants, and I’m quite sure Our Screwed Future has been around as long as storytelling has existed. But it sure feels like it has ramped up this century, no? I’d like to know if that feeling has any basis in fact and why.
The problem started in Russia, where dudes were just suicidal. Of course, suicide means something different when Russians are involved, so it was correct for Americans to ignore the panicked cries of Eurasians. Unfortunately, this is a horror film, so pretty soon Americans –Californians no less (!)– were deliberately banging their heads against windows and setting themselves on fire. So Malorie (Sandra Bullock) catches the “get out of town” vibe when she visits the hospital and finds stuff going down. In other words, she grows impatient when in-patients go the out-patient route.
Now we know Malorie “survives” because the modern chaos is paralleled by a future tale where Malorie plays blindfolded “Row Your Boat” river rafting with two small children … I know it’s unintentional, but this is a near perfect metaphor for our current presidential administration; the only way it would be a better representation is if 1) Malorie didn’t give a crap what happened to the children and 2) if there were no real danger causing the need for blindfolds. Back to the film, Bird Box is an odd combination of The Happening meets The River Wild. And if that’s a recommendation, you obviously don’t read my stuff. Back to the present day, Malorie urges the splitting of town, but her sister Sarah Paulson is driving and sees the light. One of the exhaustingly aggravating facets of Bird Box is the villain. It’s corporeal, sort of, we think, but the camera never shows the entity, whatever it is. All we see are the reactions of victims who somehow capture a vision so “beautiful” that they have to commit suicide immediately. If I’m understanding this correctly, some ephemeral intercontinental phantasmagorical medusa-like beast has arrived and shows all visioned persons something that makes them want to kill themselves. Hmmm, maybe it’s the Bird Box trailer on endless repeat. Is the beast Netflix itself?
Luckily for the plot-makers, the Beast is also vampiric in nature, which means people are safe inside houses so long as they never look out the windows. Well, gosh, that’s gonna get ugly in a hurry, huh? I mean, how long before people lose gas, water, and power? Just days, right? Oh, we’re gonna gloss over that, are we? Don’t wish to make Sandra Bullock look ugly, huh? Gosh, film, you had no problem making John Malkovich look like an ass. Easily his least forgiving role in ages, Being John Malkovich in this film means being the guy who cannot die soon enough. Bottom line is there’s two running plots in Bird Box, one present with a mixed donut collection of shut-ins trying to make sense of the apocalypse and one future with blindfolded Sandra and the Bullocks twins on the open river. Both have tension. Both have promise. Neither really works. For one thing, it’s embarrassing to imagine a world in which all people outdoors must be blind to survive, yet somehow don’t have scarred faces or hands.
If you’re wondering about the title – birds can sense when the Beast is upon them. They can also sense when one of the Beast-immune humans (the ones who have seen the Beast but become acolytes instead of suicides) appear. So Malorie keeps a Bird Box around as a warning, which serves as an extended metaphor for the trap humans have made for themselves in trying to stay alive. Bird Box is at its best when it describes quality of life issues: What’s the point of being a frightened shut-in for the rest of your life? Wouldn’t you embrace death at some point?
Aside from a C-/D+ vision “what a true apocalypse would look like,” the biggest problem with the film is the images it chooses to show us. As the omniscient and immune observers to this chaos, we should be able to see the Beast, whatever it is. We can fear for our heroes as the Beast approaches. However, we aren’t allowed said view. OK, so why not give first-person perspective, then? Why don’t we see exactly what Malorie sees and nothing else? Then we get the immediate feeling of personal peril and we understand why we the audience can never see the evil. That isn’t our perspective, either, which makes Bird Box feel like a play – “You there, stare as if you see something and act!”
I don’t think this film would work as a play, either. I’m told the book is better. Good luck with that.
♪Oh when the Beast beams down and shows you visions of untruth
And that Malkovich becomes a man full of uncouth
Inside the Bird Box they’ll chirp with glee
Celebrating the end of days for you and me♫
Rated R, 124 Minutes
Director: Susanne Bier
Writer: Eric Heisserer
Genre: Our screwed future
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Blind boaters
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: People who need a little more explanation
♪ Parody Inspired by “Under the Boardwalk”
