Arts
‘White Bird:’ Teen Romance, Nazis and Schoolyard Bullying
R.L. Palacio’s middle-grade novel, Wonder, was appropriately titled. It proved a wonder, a phenomenon, selling millions of copies, and was made into a successful film. It also sparked the Choose Kind movement, which emphasizes that it is more important to be kind than right.
Wonder follows the story of Auggie Pullman, who was born with a facial disfigurement. He was home-schooled for most of his life, until fifth grade, when he’s enrolled in an Upper West Side private school in New York City and endures the taunts of the mean kids. Especially Julian.
Auggie ultimately wins the approval of his classmates, while Julian is expelled for bullying.
Palacio followed Wonder with a collection of books based on the novel’s characters. White Bird, one of those books, features Julian and his grandmother, and is being brought to theaters across the United States on October 4.
The film, aimed at pre-teen audiences, tells the story of Julian (Bryce Gheisar, reprising his role from Wonder), who has enrolled at a new school where he is trying to make friends by being what he calls “normal.” His new classmates reject him, and he has no one to talk to at home as his wealthy parents are often away. However, one day when he returns from school, he is pleased to find that his grandmother Sara (played by Helen Mirren) has come for a visit.
French-born Sara is a famous artist, and she is in the city to attend a retrospective of her career at a museum. While Sara loves her grandson, she also is aware of his history of bullying and decides to explain the importance of kindness by sharing with him her own long-hidden story, a retelling that is the crux of the movie.
Sara (played as a young girl by Ariella Glaser) grew up in a well-off Jewish family in a small village in the Alsatian region of France. There were antisemites among the 15-year-old Sara’s classmates, but her family’s life was generally peaceful and serene, until the Nazis occupy the town. Nazi soldiers round up the Jewish residents, including all the Jewish students at the local school. Despite the Catholic headmaster’s efforts to save his Jewish charges, they and many Jews of the town, including Sara’s parents, are captured and killed.
With the help of her classmate Julien (Orlando Schwerdt), Sara escapes. He brings her to his home, where his parents hide Sara in their barn, out of sight of neighbors whom they believe to be informers.
At school, Julien had been known as “The Crab” because he has a clubfoot. Classmates—particularly those who later prove to be Nazi sympathizers—bully him mercilessly. Sara, though not one of his bullies, had made no effort to befriend him, and in fact didn’t even know his name.
But Julien has a crush on Sara, which, in part, leads him to protect her. And, while she is hiding from the Nazis, the two develop a friendship and, eventually, a romance.
The film’s two central messages are that kindness is often a form of bravery, and it is important to remember and learn from the past. As Sara admits to her grandson, “I didn’t even know his name, but we had in common one crucial thing…. We had both seen how much hate people are capable of and how much courage it took to be kind.”
Mirren’s role in the film is minor—the scene with her grandson in the beginning of the film and another at the art retrospective where she speaks about her wartime experiences are framing devices for the main story, set in the 1940s. She nevertheless lends the film a certain gravitas, as does actress Gillian Anderson, who plays Julien’s mom and helps hide the teenage Sara.
Still, with its kindness and anti-bullying themes, the film had the potential to become contrived, something akin to one of those old afternoon television specials for kids.
I discussed those themes in a Zoom interview earlier this year with White Bird’s director, Marc Forster, and executive producer Renee Wolfe, asking them if they had been concerned that the film could devolve into triteness.
“It’s interesting that you say afternoon special,” Forster replied. “When I read the script, it didn’t cross my mind. I’m glad it didn’t. Otherwise, I would’ve had that fear in my head, and it probably would have ended up as an afternoon special.”
Wolfe, however, nodded as she replied. “In a way, this could have become kind of banal, like a story you’ve seen before or heard before,” she conceded.
What makes this movie different, she explained, is that “we approach our work asking what in the story, what in its DNA, has the potential to shift consciousness to explore what it is to be human and what is unique about the human experience. Really, this was about being seen and seeing. You have this character, Julien, who definitely was not seen. This could be relatable in any culture at any place in the world, but this is in the lead up to the Holocaust and can be extrapolated to a whole group or race not seeing another.”
That Julien and his family unselfishly put themselves at risk, especially after the way he’d been treated, and his relationship with Sara, elevate the film.
White Bird had originally been scheduled for release in summer 2023 but was delayed. In a recent interview at an event for the American Jewish Press Association, both Forster and Wolfe emphasized that the new timing gives the film added weight, helping people everywhere to have conversations about dehumanization and kindness.
“Post-October 7, the movie has become more important than ever before. It is even more emotional,” Foster said, before adding “that stories like this that show kindness and hope, that show light at the end of the tunnel, are extremely important right now.”
“In a sense, it has never been more important to remember, to tell these stories,” Wolfe said. “To remember, remember, remember.”
Curt Schleier, a freelance writer, teaches business writing to corporate executives.
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