Birdeater

The directors go for an experiential, if more narratively ambiguous artistic ethos that results in an excitingly cinematic trip alongside unlikable people.

It’s a strong addition to a recent wave of independent Australian horror-thrillers, following the critical and commercial success of Talk to Me, written and directed by Adelaide-based twins Danny and Michael Philippou.

This production pushed me away much more than it pulled me in, ultimately leaving me aggrieved, withered and wondering what the point was.

An audacious reckoning with identity told through a familiar scenario gone wrong. Borrowing a page from Wake in Fright, Clark and Weir’s feature debut examines heady concepts through confident filmmaking and subversion of tropes through horror techniques.

Named after a huge spider known for ambushing its prey, this evocative Australian drama explores toxic masculinity in all its insidious forms.

The protracted feel to the film, in terms of how long we hang around at the shoulders of these people as they do precisely nothing, provides a sense that we may never get anywhere, and honestly, that is exactly what comes to pass.

It’s remarkably well-made and deeply unsettling, with an ambiguous ending that at least suggests the possibility of breaking free from toxic relationships and letting go of traumas.

Before you realize it, the movie crawls beneath your skin.

This Australian psychological thriller has all the elements of a great movie, but in terms of emotional impact, it ultimately misses the mark.

Birdeater shines when it centers on the sordid dealings of its cast. That said, it isn’t as thrilling as it could be.