White Bird

Teachable moments can prove integral to the personal growth and development of those coming of age. So it is for 15-year-old Julian Albans (Bryce Gheisar), the central figure featured in the Wonder se... Teachable moments can prove integral to the personal growth and development of those coming of age. So it is for 15-year-old Julian Albans (Bryce Gheisar), the central figure featured in the Wonder series of books and graphic novels, the inspiration behind a 2017 film of the same name and this loosely connected new sequel offering. The story here picks up where its predecessor left, with Julian resuming his scholastic life at a new private academy after having been expelled from his prior school. He’s not sure how to fit in, especially when confronted by others with similar kinds of bad behavior that got him booted from his old school. Now, though, he has an opportunity to change his destiny and begin anew, largely thanks to a visit from his Parisian grandmother, renowned artist Sara Blum (Helen Mirren), who visits his family in New York to attend a museum retrospective of her work. Sara can see that Julian is struggling, and so she launches into a story about her life when she was his age in hopes that it will help. She chronicles in detail the ordeals she faced when living in Nazi-occupied France during World War II. As a Jew, she sought to evade captivity at the hands of the Germans and their French collaborators, receiving unexpected aid from a kind young classmate (fittingly named Julien (Orlando Schwerdt)) who was afflicted with polio and struggled to walk with the aid of a crutch. Having been the subject of unrelenting, unprompted ridicule due to his disability, Julien could relate to the scorn being inflicted on young Sara (Ariella Glaser), stepping in to protect her with the help of his compassionate parents (Gillian Anderson, Jo Stone-Fewings). Through a series of extended flashbacks, the elder Sara thus relates her story, focusing on the virtues of what kindness can accomplish for those in need, a message her grandson needs to hear if he expects to make a fresh start, just the kind of teachable moment she believes he can use. Director Marc Forster has thus capably assembled an enlightening tale for impressionable young adult audiences, especially in an age when those values are being severely tested in all corners of contemporary society. Tolerance, compassion and kindness are clearly the principal virtues being championed here (admittedly sometimes a little too obviously, clichéd and heavy-handedly for my tastes), but sometimes it takes such a commanding approach to drive these messages home, especially in frequently self-absorbed times like these. The film also tends to sag in the middle, with pacing that could stand to be quickened, garrulous dialogue that could have been sharper and more succinct, and periodic changes in tone that are a little too drastic to be credible. Nevertheless, there are many compelling and heartwarming moments in this release, making it a good family viewing option and a suitable choice for younger viewers who might find a grittier treatment of its subject matter to be a little too intense for them to handle. Either way, there are valuable lessons to be gained from screening “White Bird” despite its shortcomings, and that could go a long way toward helping to reshape the values needed for creating a better world.