There is a specific kind of cinematic bravery required to take the internal, invisible experience of mourning and manifest it as a giant, foul-mouthed bird. In The Thing with Feathers, director and writer Dylan Southern does exactly that. Produced by Film4 and the BFI, this 104 minute drama made waves at its Sundance premiere on January 25, 2025, before eventually finding its way to a wider audience in the United Kingdom and Ireland on November 21, 2025. It is a film that demands your attention from the first frame, not through cheap scares, but through a profound and unsettling atmosphere that permeates every corner of its central setting.
The story follows a man simply known as Dad, played with raw intensity by Benedict Cumberbatch. Following the sudden and devastating loss of his wife, Dad is left to navigate the wreckage of his life alongside his two young sons, played by real life brothers Richard and Henry Boxall. As the trio struggles to maintain a sense of normalcy in their quiet home, they are joined by an uninvited guest: Crow. This entity, physically portrayed by Eric Lampaert and voiced with a sneering, cynical wit by David Thewlis, becomes the physical embodiment of the family’s collective pain. Crow is not a comforter; he is a provocateur, a shadow that taunts Dad from the corners of the room and forces him to confront the chaos he is trying so desperately to suppress. This film matters because it moves beyond the typical tropes of the "grief drama" to offer something far more abrasive and, in many ways, more honest about the transformative power of loss.
Story and Screenplay: A Narrative Spiral into the Heart of Darkness
The narrative quality of The Thing with Feathers is defined by its willingness to embrace the "messy and chaotic" nature of a world turned upside down. Structurally, the film operates less like a linear story and more like a psychological spiral. As Dad loses his grip on reality, the house begins to reflect his internal state, becoming a cluttered, claustrophobic labyrinth where Crow reigns supreme. Southern’s screenplay is most effective when it focuses on the mundane details of a broken life: the difficulty of making breakfast, the silence of a bedroom that used to be shared, and the confused expressions of children who don't understand why their world has ended.
However, the pacing and rhythm of the script can be uneven. There are moments in the middle act where the imagery begins to feel repetitive, as if the film is circling the same emotional drain without quite finding a new way to express the pain. The originality of the themes is high, particularly the choice to use the "man-bird" encounter as a catalyst for a "primal release." Yet, the script’s primary weakness is its tendency to be overly literal. The metaphor of the bird is so potent on its own that the film didn't necessarily need the constant "clobbering" of thematic exposition. At times, the screenplay seems afraid that the audience won't grasp the weight of Dad’s situation, leading to dialogue and situations that feel slightly heavy-handed for a film that is otherwise so visually sophisticated.
Acting and Characters: A Masterclass in Physical and Emotional Turmoil
If you were looking for a performance that highlights Benedict Cumberbatch’s range, The Thing with Feathers is it. He goes completely "all-in" here, moving from a state of stiff, paralyzed shock to a kind of "limber wildman trance" that is both terrifying and heartbreaking to behold. His physicality is essential to the role; you can see the grief weighing down his shoulders and narrowing his eyes. It is a performance devoid of vanity, capturing the "maudlin" depths of a man who is essentially waiting for his own life to end.
Equally impressive are Richard and Henry Boxall. It is rare to see child performances that feel this "naturalistic" and unforced. They don't act like "movie kids"; they react to the absurdity of their situation with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and a heartbreaking desire to please their struggling father. Their chemistry with Cumberbatch provides the film’s necessary emotional anchor, making the stakes feel painfully real even when a six-foot bird is standing in the kitchen. Then there is the Crow itself. The combination of Eric Lampaert’s avian movements and David Thewlis’s vocal performance is genius. Thewlis imbues the creature with a sense of "contemptuous" scorn and dark humor that keeps the film from becoming a purely somber affair. Crow’s nudging of the record needle and his mocking of Dad’s musical choices provide the movie’s most memorable, and strangely funniest, moments.
Direction and Technical Aspects: Creating a Living, Breathing Nightmare
Dylan Southern brings a distinct, almost musical sensibility to the direction of this film. His vision for the creature design of Crow is truly an "all-timer," utilizing practical effects and clever lighting to create something that feels tangible and dangerous. Crow isn't just a man in a suit; he is a shifting, feathered presence that seems to absorb the light around him. The cinematography and visual composition are equally strong, often framing Dad in ways that emphasize his isolation, even when he is in the same room as his children. The use of reflections and shadows creates a sense that there is always something watching, lurking just out of sight.
The visual storytelling is at its peak during the film's more surreal sequences. Southern knows how to build a sense of "primal release," particularly in the scenes where Crow guides Dad through a series of wild, animalistic movements. The production design of the family home is a triumph of environmental storytelling. What starts as a warm, domestic space slowly transforms into a den of neglect and sorrow, with every pile of unwashed dishes and every unmade bed telling a story of a family in freefall. The editing is sharp, though it occasionally lingers a bit too long on the bird’s more "unhinged" antics, which can contribute to the aforementioned feeling of repetition.
Trailer The Thing with Feathers (2025)
Music and Atmosphere: The Sound of Mourning and Mockery
The atmosphere of The Thing with Feathers is arguably its most potent element, but it is also where some of the film’s more "on-the-nose" choices reside. The mood is one of profound, distancing sadness, punctuated by bursts of chaotic energy. The sound design is immersive, using the rustle of feathers and the scratching of claws to keep the viewer constantly on edge. When Crow is in the house, the audio landscape becomes cluttered and threatening, perfectly mirroring Dad’s internal state.
The soundtrack is a collection of folk and blues that should, in theory, enhance the mood. However, the selection of songs can be a bit too literal. When Dad is at his lowest and the lyrics of a Fairport Convention or Vic Chestnutt song essentially narrate his exact feelings, the effect can be more "distancing" than engaging. It feels as if the director is using the music to tell us how to feel rather than letting the scenes speak for themselves. That said, the film is at its best when it uses music as a tool of characterization. The moment where Crow contemptuously replaces a "funereal" track with the "convulsive, foot-stomping" blues of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins is a brilliant highlight. It shows the bird’s role not just as a tormentor, but as a force trying to shock Dad back into a state of primal, living existence.
Strengths and Weaknesses
What works well:
- Cumberbatch’s Physicality: His transformation from a grieving husk into a man possessed by his own sorrow is a landmark performance in his career.
- The Boxall Brothers: Their naturalistic acting provides a grounded, human heart to a story that often threatens to spin off into total surrealism.
- Crow’s Creature Design: A stunning achievement in practical effects that makes the central metaphor feel physically threatening and undeniably real.
- David Thewlis’s Voice Work: His portrayal of the bird as a sardonic, mocking houseguest adds a layer of dark humor that prevents the movie from becoming too maudlin.
- Environmental Storytelling: The way the production design evolves alongside the characters' mental states is masterfully handled.
What doesn't work:
- Heavy-Handed Metaphors: The script often "clobbers" the audience over the head with its themes, leaving very little room for the viewer to find their own meaning.
- Repetitive Imagery: By the third act, some of the scenes involving Crow’s antics begin to feel like they are treading water rather than pushing the story forward.
- On-the-Nose Music: The lyrics of the soundtrack are often far too literal, telling the audience exactly what a character is thinking in a way that feels unnecessary.
- Tonal Mismatch: The horror elements and the psychological drama don't always coexist harmoniously, occasionally creating a "distancing" effect for the viewer.
- Pacing Lulls: There are segments in the middle of the film where the narrative momentum stalls, making the 104 minute runtime feel slightly longer than it is.
Final Verdict: An Uncompromising Portrait of a Family in Flight
Rating: 3.5/5 stars
The Thing with Feathers (2025) is a film that refuses to be forgotten. It is a "treatise on grief" that chooses to be loud, ugly, and abrasive rather than soft and comforting. While it occasionally suffers from an "underwritten" sense of subtlety and a tendency to over-explain its own metaphors, the technical execution is virtually flawless. Benedict Cumberbatch delivers a career-high performance that is matched by the incredible realism of the Boxall brothers. It is a movie that isn't afraid to embrace the "dark humor" of tragedy, thanks largely to the brilliant voice work of David Thewlis.
Who should watch it? This is a must-see for fans of Benedict Cumberbatch and for anyone who appreciates bold, experimental filmmaking that isn't afraid to take massive risks with its subject matter. If you are a fan of "psychological drama" that borders on the surreal, you will find a lot to admire here.
Who might not enjoy it? Those who prefer their stories of loss to be handled with a delicate, subtle touch may find the "clobbering" nature of the film's metaphors to be off-putting. Additionally, if you are looking for a straightforward horror movie, you might be disappointed by the film’s more "maudlin" dramatic stretches.
Final Thoughts and Recommendation: I recommend The Thing with Feathers as a visually stunning and emotionally draining experience. It is a film that makes it hard for us to feel indifferent, even if its heavy-handedness makes it hard to feel exactly what the director intended. It is a flawed masterpiece of creature design and acting that deserves to be seen on the big screen, if only to witness the terrifying, feathered glory of Crow in all his unhinged majesty.
 Movie Review: A Challenging and Visceral Meditation on Grief Where the Metaphors Have Sharp and Unforgiving Talons){kind=link}
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