Sometimes there's a film that comes along that boggles the mind. You cannot believe the thing exists, but there it is, paddling its arms forward like a Special Olympics finalist (and no, this is not a joke on the Special Olympics - they're too good for Birdemic: Shock and Terror). The movie tricks a viewer like yours truly; at first, having not seen anything made by its director, the inimitable James Nguyen - he has two other films to his credit, Replica and Julie and Jack, neither seen by me (just as well, one of whom gives its highest praise as "
The film takes place in some sunny seaside community on the California coast - as we're made PAINFULLY CLEAR in the opening from-the-car driving shots (immediately calling to mind the opening credits of Manos: The Hands of Fate) - and is about how Rod (Alan Bough) and Nathalie (Whitney Moore), who meet one day by chance, he a successful solar-panel salesman and she a Victoria's Secret model (she just made the cover!) Oh, and there's an almost inexplicable warning of a crazy-killer bird epidemic on the news, from, um, I guess it's global warming. And after about a half hour of almost NOTHING going on between these two pieces of cardboard-as-actors, the birds finally arrive.... oh yes, how they arrive.
What I mean by my uncertainty of what I was seeing, it felt like a double-edged sword. I kept thinking during the film, 'either Nguyen is a total genius, crafting the most intentionally bad movie in recent memory, or he's quite possible the most sickening hack you've never wanted to meet.' The movie is really on the level of Manos. Even worse, I was reminded of the worst of the worst drek that came across at my old undergraduate college (for those from William Paterson University circa 2005-06, think back to The Brothers of Mystical.... yeah, let that sink in, albeit an in-reference, you can watch it HERE if you dare...).
It's one thing that the film was shot on a shitty camcorder. It's another that the actors appear to be non-professionals or at best from community theater (Alan Bagh is so stiff he just might make your eyes bleed; Moore is too hot to have that happen, though her talent is just as nill). But it's something else how absolutely, and surprisingly consistently, awful the filmmaking is. Even if you've never taken a class in proper lighting or sound or stage direction or editing, Birdemic shines so mightly shitty-ness. Scenes start and end without a proper marker, as if the editor didn't know how to flow from one scene- one SHOT- to the next. Sound is completely mis-matched from one shot to the next. The music is the kind of synthesizer work that cranked up loud enough could drive Bin-Laden out of his cave (they even go as far as to rip-off the
Just look right here at the trailer, right now, for a look at these birds. They speak more (and squak more) than I ever could:
Composed yourself. Good. On with the rest of this report.
Now, again, experiencing this film, especially in the case I had in a theater with people perhaps anticipating its awfulness based on the trailer or the website or the claim by Nguyen to be a "Master of the Romantic Thriller" (Trademarked. I'm not fucking kidding), that this is perhaps just a brilliant prank, a satire of epic proportions. Certainly the "message" part of the movie- and it's wielded with such a sledgehammer it would make Stanley Kramer look like Jim Jarmusch - is done to such a ludicrous extent, with characters appearing for walk-on scenes like a Old-man Biologist who appears to explain that the birds were caused by man's harm to the planet, or the "Tree-Man" in the woods who has a tree-house home and finds the birds don't attack him because he's in the woods and not out
All of this could, potentially, really be just a put-on of such a magnitude that I would want to shake Nguyen's hand for pulling off such a feat. But, no, Nguyen took himself very seriously during this production, only slightly changing his tune after the fact of people seeing the film like the audience in The Producers seeing "Springtime for Hitler" for the first time (If you need proof, look at this NY Times article here: “I never went to film school,” Mr. Nguyen said. “But I did go to what you’d call the film school of Hitchcock cinema.”). I'll give him that he had persistance in getting the film out there, even showing it in bars around the
Oh, don't get me wrong, Birdemic is absolutely, hysterically, historically, gloriously funny. It's a magnificent fresco of horrible CGI (the birds just float, like a screensaver), and non-existent acting, and plot that... wait, what plot? And who needs an ending that makes sense either, or shots that match up? It's so funny that I ended up feeling just a wee-bit guilty by the end. It's easy to mock this movie, like a bully on the playground mocking the kid with Cerebral Palsy. If the film isn't an intentional anti-film, then it's just a really bad Manos/
Let's leave off on a happy note, shall we, since this fucker invoked the name of the REAL Master (trademark):
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