Title: White Bird: A Wonder Story
Director: Marc Forster
Cast: Ariella Glaser, Orlando Schwerdt, Bryce Gheisar, Gillian Anderson, Helen Mirren, Jo-Stone Fewings
Where: In theatres near you
Rating: 3.5 Stars
This film attempts to extend the heartfelt universe of the 2017 film - Wonder, but while it flirts with transcendence, it often stumbles into sentimentality. Based on R.J. Palacio’s graphic novel, this period piece ventures into the well-trodden territory of Holocaust cinema, but does so through a lens of childlike innocence and saccharine kindness that may feel a tad too sanitized for its subject matter.
The film opens with a framing device that ties it to its predecessor, Wonder. We meet Julian Albans (Bryce Gheisar), the bully from the previous film, now grappling with guilt and remorse. His ever-wise Grandmother Sara, played by Helen Mirren, makes an appearance to set the young man straight by recounting her own traumatic history as a Jewish girl hiding from the Nazis in occupied France. It’s a well-intentioned device, though Mirren’s character feels less like a living, breathing figure and more like a plot vehicle with twinkling eyes and intermittent wisdom.
As Sara recounts her childhood, the narrative shifts into 1942 Alsace, and here is where the film spends most of its time. Young Sara, played by Ariella Glaser, is hidden in a barn by her classmate Julien (Orlando Schwerdt), who suffers from polio. What follows is a tale of friendship blossoming into a gentle romance as they endure the horrors of war. Forster weaves this period drama with visual elegance, transforming a potentially claustrophobic story into a pastoral fairy tale, largely thanks to Matthias Königswieser’s lush cinematography.
But herein lies the rub. While the story calls for emotional depth, the film too often skates across its surface, more intent on crafting an idyllic aesthetic than exploring the gritty reality of its historical setting. For a Holocaust narrative, the stakes feel oddly low. The film skirts danger with the same politeness as its protagonists, keeping the threat of Nazi brutality at a decorous distance. The closest we get to the actual menace is a contrived scene involving wolves that feels like something out of a Brothers Grimm tale, not in a good way.
To its credit, the film does land several emotional punches. Though familiar, the burgeoning relationship between Sara and Julien is genuinely heartwarming, with their imaginative games providing a refreshing escape from the grim reality around them. Ariella Glaser and Orlando Schwerdt bring a gentle authenticity to their roles, their chemistry adding warmth to the narrative. Despite limited screen time, Gillian Anderson and Helen Mirren leave a lasting impact. Anderson, as Julien’s protective mother, conveys quiet strength, while Mirren brings her usual grace, elevating the moments she appears with her signature gravitas.
Overall, the film is visually captivating and strikes the right emotional chords, though it wavers between moments of poignancy and predictability. Its aim seems more focused on imparting lessons of kindness to a younger audience than delving deeply into history. This becomes clear when Sara tells her grandson, “You forget many things in life, but you never forget kindness. It stays with you forever,” reinforcing the film’s core message of compassion over historical complexity.
