Broken Bird is in UK cinemas now.
Synopsis
This rich, disturbing tale steps into the life and mind of Sybil Chamberlain. Sybil is a quiet, creative soul. Her hobbies are taxidermy and poetry. She works in a funeral parlor with the deceased. She likes dead people. They understand her.
At just ten years old, she experienced trauma in a tragic accident which took away the family she adored. Now, an aching loneliness prevails in a void which she seeks to fill. But poetry and a vivid imagination provide an escape from the harsh realities of a lonely life.
Reality and reason are slipping away from Sybil and her ‘dark desires’ become more and more insatiable. Her fascination with the dead takes a dark and strange twist. And in a horrific climax of gothic proportions, she finds her own kind of happiness and contentment with the people she keeps as company – dead people.
Review
Matronly figures are something of a stalwart of British cinema. Think Mary Poppins. Think Hattie Jacques in the Carry On films. These are strong women who command the screen as well as their charges. Often rigid and sometimes cold characters they’re easily misunderstood. Those two examples I just gave come from Britain’s history of humorous and light-hearted cinema. But in her feature directorial debut, Joanne Mitchell brings us a very different but equally compelling character in Sybil (Rebecca Calder, House of the Dragon).
Sybil is at the centre of Broken Bird, a brilliant new film which recently premiered at the 2024 Pigeon Shrine FrightFest. The film is itself an expansion of Mitchell’s 2018 short film Sybil. She’s a lonely but authoritative figure who works at a local undertakers alongside Mr Thomas played by the incredible James Fleet (The Vicar of Dibley). There’s something a little Sally Hawkins in The Shape of Water about Sybil but she’s colder, more regimented. She goes about her daily routine with a gaze almost as steely as her pristine fringe. But out from under the facade come glimpses of a personality buried underneath.
Sybil regularly partakes in a local amateur poetry night. She also takes more than a passing fancy to local museum guide Mark (Jay Taylor, Manhunt) before learning he’s involved with Tina (Robyn Rainsford, Tali’s Joburg Diary). To begin with it seems like Broken Bird is simply going to follow this quirky character’s equally quirky life. But the viewer can’t help but shake off the fact that’s something unsettling right beneath the surface.
The film hangs on Calder’s stirring performance. Whilst Claxton, Fleet and the rest are a solid supporting cast, without Calder nailing the role of Sybil Broken Birds is half the film. Her steadfast performance is truly front and centre. He daydreams allow us more insight in to her psyche whilst simultaneously allowing Calder to show us a broader range of emotion. Regardless of the material handed to her, Calder seems to make light work of making it feel impactful to Sybil’s journey.
Mitchell counters the relative control of Sybil’s life with the chaos of Emma’s (Sacharissa Claxton, The Sandman). Emma, a police officer grieving her young son. Claxton brings a profoundly heartbreaking sense of loss to the film. Her performance brings an authenticity to Emma’s story and the film which is somewhat lacking in the script. It’s not a huge creative leap to expect these two storylines to eventually intersect. So rather than building towards a reveal, Broken Birds simply seems accepts that it’s coming and waits for it to happen. It’s a small foible in an otherwise enthralling narrative.
It doesn’t take long for Sybil’s cracks to show. When she loses her cool at a group of local skaters it seems a much more fiery persona is waiting to break free. Then, as a shocking delivery arrives at the parlor, Sybil is sent spiralling towards a suitably melodramatic and macabre finale.
Igor Marovic grasps the worlds of Mitchell’s story and Calder’s portrayal with a ghoulish glee. Broken Bird looks like a contemporary take on Edgar Allen Poe. It’s delightfully goth. One the one hand there’s a grotesqueness which unsettles the audience. But it’s balanced against a playful sense of whimsy. Those elements are something the film gets right from the outset. Without them its final set piece loses all credibility. Thankfully everyone in the production is on the same page as is evident by the accomplishment as the final credits roll.
Verdict
Broken Birds is a delightfully dark and twisted tale. Joanne Mitchell’s macabre fable is brought to life with an enthralling, award-worthy performance by Rebecca Calder and polished production.
⭐⭐⭐⭐
