Sundance Review: ‘The Thing with Feathers’ is a Creative but Confounding Exploration of Grief

Grief manifests in different ways for everyone. In certain cases, that can be as a literal giant crow who’s alternately terrifying and soothing. Dylan Southern’s film adaptation of Max Porter’s novella Grief is the Thing with Feathers explores the aftermath of loss and the devastation and terror it can bring. The instability and sense of absolute isolation that its protagonist feels is constant, but this film doesn’t always seem to know how it wants to portray this potentially imagined creature and its true purpose.

A man referred to only as Dad (Benedict Cumberbatch) is reeling from the sudden and unexpected death of his wife. At first, he’s able to care for his sons (Richard and Henry Boxall), but obstacles as simple as only having the soy milk his wife drank for their cereal threaten to break any semblance of calm he’s been able to establish. He tries to continue his work as a graphic novelist only to have the crow he’s been drawing come to life, at first viciously attacking him and then pushing him to get his act together and contend with how life now has to look.

In his introduction to the film’s Sundance premiere, Southern shared that audiences likely wouldn’t be expecting an independent film about grief to include elements of horror and other unusual devices. Those are certainly big swings and create a viewing experience that’s rather stressful and often unpleasant, jarring them into submission as Dad is frequently terrorized not just by this giant bird’s physical presence but also by the burden it represents. The unspoken moments of nostalgia and connection between this father and his two sons do speak louder, suggesting a more straightforward approach to this premise could have been more effective if admittedly less creative.

There’s also the appearance of the crow itself, which plays an outsized part in this film’s narrative. Best described visually as a cross between the creatures in Birdman and Nosferatu, it does appear as a frightening villain at first, but even just a slightly more exposed look at him makes him more palatable and just peculiar. To suggest that there would have been a more realistic way to depict a hulking crow is unproductive, but as it’s shown on screen throughout the film, it often feels like more of a distraction than a useful plot device. Given that it’s the point of this particular story, its unconvincing nature greatly takes away from its effectiveness.

The frequent flashes of birds crashing into windows and Dad and his sons waking up from – or to – nightmares are also quite unsettling, though this film can’t truly be classified as horror. It does lean more into the jump scenes and tentative suspense than another genre-bending film about grief, Conor McPherson’s The Eclipse, though those diversions don’t necessarily aid the film’s story. Broken up into chapters that each look at specific characters, like Dad, Crow, and Boys, this film feels at times like a circular tale, one that doesn’t have a beginning or end but instead an enduring, inescapable present, a fitting metaphor for the impossibility of moving on after loss. 

Even if certain elements won’t be for everyone, this film does contain very strong performances, particularly from Cumberbatch, who portrays Dad as a broken man who is at one point told that he’s slipping much more into despair than healthier and expected grief. The real-life Boxall brothers are quite impressive in their film debuts, engaging with the adult material in a way that merges childish antics and more reserved mourning. Even if it’s over-the-top, David Thewlis does feel like the perfect choice to voice Crow. Those who have been through a crushing loss may find some power in this representation, but even audiences who struggle to connect with this concept should find traces of humanity and authenticity in its depiction of the real people left behind to remember someone who is no longer living. 

Movie Rating: 6/10