When the YA genre became more relevant in the 1980s, the idea of using fiction aimed directly at teens to teach about social issues was treated almost experimentally since many of those issues were considered adult in essence, but now it’s often difficult to distinguish between issue-based stories for grownups and those for adolescents, probably because entertainment prerogatives have overtaken both approaches. Marc Forster’s White Bird is a sequel of sorts to the 2017 film Wonder, in which a boy with a genetic facial deformity is bullied by schoolmates. One of those bullies eventually apologizes to the boy, but only after he is expelled for his actions. The bully, Julian (Bryce Gheisar), is seen starting over in White Bird at a new private school in New York, and is himself subjected to rough treatment by someone who scans as a bully. Depressed over his prospects, Julian returns home to his parents’ upper west side apartment where, naturally, his parents are absent, though his French grandmother, a world famous artist named Sara (Helen Mirren), has just arrived in order to receive some sort of recognition from the Met. Understanding his dilemma, she tells him her own story about surviving World War II as a Jewish girl in occupied France. 

The bulk of the movie is this flashback tale, which recounts Sara’s childhood as the daughter of a doctor. When the Nazis show up, her parents are taken away, but Sara (Ariella Glaser) manages to escape with the help of a handicapped boy in her class, Julien (Orlando Schwerdt), who hides her in the family barn with the full knowlege of his parents (Gillian Anderson, Jo-Stone Fewings). She spends a year in the barn and during this time forms a budding romantic relationship with Julien, who home schools and entertains her. The on-the-nose irony here is that previously Sara ignored Julien because of his handicap and developed a crush on another boy who turned out to be a Nazi-in-the-making. This is the lesson that adult Sara wants to impart on her grandson, but, of course, before that happens, we have to go through the drama and intrigue of a Holocaust narrative, which involves insidious antisemitism and amazing self-sacrifice. 

White Bird, in line with what has become de rigeuer for YA stories, is premised thematically on the concept of “being kind,” an honorable mission but one that tends to feel understated in a tale centered on genocide. Moreover, the moral is so pat that it slides off the veiwer’s consciousness like water off a duck’s back. Teens can handle emotional and ethical complications, as proved by such YA classics as The Giant Robot and The Outsiders. What we have here is Morality Lite. 

Opens Dec. 6 in Tokyo at Toho Cinemas Nihonbashi (050-6868-5060), Toho Cinemas Chanter Hibiya (050-6868-5001), Kino Cinema Shinjuku (03-5315-0978), Toho Cinemas Roppongi Hills (050-6868-5024). 

White Bird home page in Japanese

photo (c) 2024 Lions GateFilms Inc. and Participant Media, LLC