Main cast: Michael Emery (Kristian Brooks), Uki Pavlovic (Corban Delany), David J Cork (Mathew Foster), Jes Davis (Sam Delaney), Cody Sloan (Patrick Pierce), Miles Crawford (David Sachs), Christopher Colon (Henley Rivera), Joe Franjieh (Kyle Jones), Ryan Czerwonko (James Holden), Justin Gerhard (Kyle Masters), Paul Victor (Garreth Smith), Livia Scott (Kitty Astor), Celeste Oliva (Shelley Chogan), Joe Garland (Fred Astor), and Delilah DuBois (Delilah D’Angelo)
Director: Nate Dushku
Ever heard the phrase “birds of a feather flock together”? Well, after watching Birder, you’ll wish these birds had flown far, far away from your screen.
When I first caught wind of Birder, it was touted as a groundbreaking film about sexual inhibition and consent. Color me intrigued! But let me tell you, the only thing this movie breaks is your patience and possibly your will to live.
Our protagonist, Kristian Brooks, is supposedly a birdwatcher. Spoiler alert: the only birds he’s watching are of the jailbird variety. This serial killer’s modus operandi is choking his victims during bouts of rough sex. Talk about a twisted take on “love birds”.
The film’s setting is a nudist, free-loving camp. Because nothing says “consent and sexual inhibition” quite like a parade of naked extras who look like they took a wrong turn on their way to an OnlyFans shoot. If you’re into that sort of thing, save yourself 90 minutes and just subscribe to their channels instead.
The plot, much like our antagonist’s grip, is loose at best. It’s a repetitive cycle of soft-porn quality sex scenes culminating in Kristian displaying his superpower: the ability to choke someone to death with all the force of a limp handshake. It’s less Fifty Shades of Grey and more Fifty Shades of “Why?”.
The dialogue feels like it was ripped straight from a 15-year-old’s angsty LiveJournal circa 2005. It’s so edgy, I cut myself on the cringe. As for the acting, let’s just say the birds these actors are imitating are probably wooden ducks.
Kristian, our “seductive and deadly” lead character, has all the charm and screen presence of a deflated balloon. He’s about as convincing as a predator as a kitten in a lion costume. For a film with more naked bodies than a locker room after a marathon, it’s impressively unerotic. It’s like they found a way to make sex boring—now that’s talent!
The few female characters in the movie feel like they wandered onto the wrong set and decided to stay for the craft services. They contribute about as much to the plot as bird droppings do to modern art.
In conclusion, Birder is less of a movie and more of a cautionary tale about the dangers of giving film equipment to amateurs. It’s a dull, lifeless experience that makes you wonder if you’ve accidentally stumbled upon someone’s failed film school project.
If it aimed to ruffle feathers, the only thing it succeeded in ruffling was my last nerve. This bird doesn’t soar; it plummets faster than a penguin pushed off a cliff. Save yourself the trouble and watch actual birds instead. They’re free, more entertaining, and significantly less likely to make you question your life choices.
Rating: 1 out of 5 plucked feathers, er, oogies. And that’s being generous.
