New Queer Cinema writer/director Gregg Araki’s moody new film “White Bird in a Blizzard” is well-made, but it is passive where it should be impassioned.
The film, which opens Oct. 31 at Ritz Theaters, is an adaptation of Laura Kasischke’s novel, and has 17-year-old Kat (Shailene Woodley) grappling with the disappearance of her mother, Eve (Eva Green). Araki creates a dreamy soundscape, with music by Robin Guthrie (formerly of the Cocteau Twins) and snowy dream sequences. However, these ethereal elements distract as much as they enhance this serious coming-of-age story. As Kat recalls various episodes — good, bad and horrific — from her past to Dr. Thaler (Angela Bassett), a therapist, her revelations over time feel forced and unconvincing.
This is not to say the film does not have its worthwhile moments. There is a terrific sequence that conveys the emotional shift and schism between mother and daughter. Kat recounts going from being Eve’s pet as a young girl to transforming her body from fat to sylph-like when she hit puberty, and ultimately turning into Eve’s enemy when she becomes a sexually active teenager. Likewise, Araki’s depiction of Eve as a bored housewife palpably magnifies her increasing despair. In contrast, scenes of Eve getting drunk, making passes at Kat’s boyfriend, Phil (Shiloh Fernandez), or becoming enraged by her frustrating husband, Brock (Christopher Meloni), are over-the-top.
Eve’s character is not that complex. Her flirtations with Phil are actually some of the best scenes in the film. Araki gets at the unexpected erotic frisson that exists between these characters — a sexy stoner and the older, bored seductress next door. It’s a dynamic that parallels the one between Kat and Detective Sciezlesciez (Thomas Jane), who is handling Eve’s missing-person case. Kat visits the detective in his home one night with news that she suspected her mother was having an affair. The detective, no dummy, understands this teenager is trying to seduce him. He has sex with her anyway, despite the fact that it is hinky and illegal. A sexual relationship soon develops between them.
Significantly, “White Bird in a Blizzard” does not make its inappropriate moments prurient. Perhaps it should have, and the film could have been wonderfully lurid. Instead, Araki astutely captures the awkwardness between the characters. Scenes of Eve dressing provocatively in front of Phil and Kat are revealing (no pun intended) but don’t inform her character beyond the obvious. That said, this moment is better than a dream sequence in which Eve is complaining to Kat that she has no hands.
The second half of the film, which takes place a few years after Eve’s disappearance, also has some effective moments. Kat’s awkward reunions with her lovers, Phil and the detective, are uncomfortable for different reasons. They also prompt Kat to seek some closure to her mother’s disappearance.
An early, effective scene illustrates Kat’s psychology as when she compares that blink of a moment of losing her virginity to Phil to her mother vanishing. However, as Kat thinks more about her relationship with her mother (in and out of therapy), audiences are able to put many of the pieces together, often faster than Kat is. This makes “White Bird in a Blizzard” somewhat detached and uninvolving. It is hard to sympathize with a character that takes too long to realize the truth that others all around her do.
Araki creates a vivid visual palette, even when he lights his film in such a way that it overexposes his hand. But he errs in creating signposts rather than crafting a mystery. The emphasis here is not on what happened but why. That may be the key, but the film focuses too much on the former and not enough on the latter. When, late in the film, the filmmaker reveals what’s really going on with its key characters, the twist feels cheap and unearned. It also comes all too late.
Woodley is very fine in the lead role, especially in her projection of Kat’s self-confidence. Unfortunately, “White Bird in a Blizzard” is sabotaged by Green’s exaggerated performance. When Eve enters her daughter’s bedroom in the middle of the night to ask Kat if Phil is a good fuck, the episode is more campy than disturbing. This and other scenes of Green overacting wildly suggest that Araki was telling the actress to perform as if she were doing a scene from “Mommie Dearest,” but to be less subtle. It is the film’s Achilles’ heel.
The supporting cast, however, is solid. Fernandez makes Phil a bit more complex than his sexy stoner dude might be, and Meloni has a good rapport with Woodley in their scenes together.
The film also features an outstanding period (1988-91) soundtrack. Alas, there is not enough meat on “White Bird in a Blizzard’s” bones for it to be completely satisfying.