Catherine Called Birdy review: Bella Ramsey lends Lena Dunham’s coming-of-age romp a rebel spirit

In Lena Dunham’s new film Catherine Called Birdy, the 14-year-old girl (Bella Ramsey) of the title embarks on a desperate 13th century rebellion: to defer being sold as a wife to the highest bidder. Marriage, in medieval times and indeed well beyond, was above all a transaction involving wealth, land, status and women. A man of his times, if nothing else, is Birdy’s father Lord Rollo (Andrew Scott), dogged in his efforts to marry his only daughter off to a wealthy suitor so he can cash in on the dowry to save the family from certain bankruptcy, unwelcome circumstances he himself forced the family into with his profligacy. Birdy matches, nay exceeds him in spirit. If she is being forced into marriage, she won’t go down without a fight. When the pageant of suitors come knocking, she digs into her bag of tricks to sabotage the first encounter and ensure there won’t be a definitive second. She scares off the first age-inappropriate suitor, played by Russell Brand in a cameo, with a tall tale about a third ear. She feigns madness, blackens her teeth with soot, and even sets fire to the privy to send each and every wannabe husband packing. Each impish prank is Birdy’s attempt to assert her voice of dissent. She won’t marry for her father’s interest or family’s welfare when doing so is neither in her own interest nor welfare. By way of her diary entries, the film lets us inside the head of a plucky adolescent striving for autonomy in medieval England. Much like the Karen Cushman novel it is adapted from, it recreates the times with all the sights, sounds and smells that came with them. These were times when plagues hit Europe in multiple waves and people weren’t all that big on baths. As we all know, a notoriety for poor hygiene has followed people of the Middle Ages like a stink. Dunham doesn’t gloss over it, even if she gives the story a bit of a modern facelift with Misty Miller covers. [caption id=“attachment_11402841” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] A scene from Catherine Called Birdy[/caption] If Sharp Stick and six seasons of Girls told us anything, it’s that Dunham has never been one for glossing over the messy aspects of growing up female. And she isn’t going to err puritan in capturing the growing pains of a teenage girl. Birdy can be just as messy, selfish and impulsive as Hannah Horvath. Giving the character the spirited energy she needs to not conform is Ramsey in a performance bristling with imagination and intelligence. While the film hews close to the facts of Birdy’s medieval life, it revels in her defiant spirit. As opposed to the recent Netflix adaptation of Austen’s Persuasion, its modern sensibilities don’t grate against its period sensibilities — or rub the wrong way. As far as coming-of-age romps go, this is one of the more joyful and honest efforts. Befitting its free-spirited protagonist, the choral flourishes of Carter Burwell’s score bring their own air of flippancy. Each of the other characters are introduced with on-screen bullet points about personality traits and quirks, as Birdy might have introduced them in her endearingly witty way. Jokes are in no short supply here. There is more than one chuckle-worthy crack about the Virgin Mary. In a tweak to the novel, Birdy swoons over her uncle George (Joe Alwyn), a dashing Crusade veteran. “If only we were cousins,” she laments over not being able to marry him. When Lord Rollo tries to reason with a suitor that Birdy’s sullen demeanour may be due to the pox going around, and insists it’s the “small” one, not the “big,” there is understandable furore in these pre-vaccination times. On the flipside, childbirth was an incredibly perilous venture, as we watch Birdy’s ever-pregnant mother Lady Aislinn (Billie Piper) endure not the first miscarriage. [caption id=“attachment_11402861” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] A scene from Catherine Called Birdy[/caption] Being distant from us in time and place doesn’t stop Birdy from being a relatable heroine. Because she is grappling with some of the same tribulations as so many 14-year-olds: puberty, desire and overbearing parents. A feminist ahead of her time though she may be, it isn’t hard to wrap our 21st century minds around the angst of a young girl hostile to the idea of being sold off in marriage to wealthy but vile men. As we see in the opening scene, Birdy would rather spend her days rolling in the mud with the local goatherd Perkin (Michael Woolfitt) and milkmaid Meg (Rita Bernard-Shaw). She is much happier frolicking around the town with best friend Aelis (Isis Hainsworth) and attending hangings. “My truest passions are avoiding my chores. Critiquing my father’s horrible swordplay. Disrupting cottage raisings. Causing mischief in the village. And listening through doors I should not listen through,” she says. Much of the film’s comedy stems from the battle of wills between Birdy and Lord Rollo. Scott makes for a credible foil as a man whose desire to save himself and his manor trumps the love he has for his daughter. Birdy thus feels little else but bitterness towards her wastrel father who has spent all their money on impulse purchases and now intends to use her as currency to get himself out of debt. She even despises him for continuing to impregnate her mother, notwithstanding the series of miscarriages and the grief left in their wake. When she has her periods and learns how babies are born, she fears marriage will bring with it the pains of motherhood and that she will be reduced to an incubator. The only hope when she launches into her rebellion is that she can at least postpone her fate till she is old enough to decide a suitor of her own choice. This is the Middle Ages. Bodily autonomy wasn’t exactly easy to come by. When Lady Aislinn tells, “I cheer for you Birdy, but I fear for you,” it reflects our own sentiment. But where the film falters is the ending. Dunham’s modification to Cushman’s book forces a last-minute change-of-heart that feels too neat, letting a man rescue Birdy from her fate and not offering her a chance to find a way out herself. It is worth noting that Birdy is caught in a myopic bubble of privilege, not unlike Dunham herself (as many critics have accused the writer-director of wrapping herself in). In a moment of anger, our medieval heroine insults Perkins, taking aim at his lower-class status. In another, she lets matters of love and matrimony drive a wedge between her and Aelis, not realising her best friend is very much in the same boat as her. Aelis, the daughter of the crotchety old neighbour Lord Gideon (David Bradley), is forced into marrying a nine-year-old. With time, Birdy becomes aware of her own shortcomings and learns how a suitable marriage can prove beneficial to a woman. During the feast of Uncle George’s wedding to the widowed Ethelfritha Rose Splinter of Devon (Sophie Okonedo), Ethelfritha advises Birdy it is best to be pragmatic in times when marriage is nothing but an economic proposition. At the same time, she urges the young girl not to suppress her spirit altogether: “You have wings. You must learn how to harness them.” Catherine Called Birdy releases on Amazon Prime Video on 7 October.

Prahlad Srihari is a film and music writer based in Bengaluru. Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News ,  India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook,  Twitter and  Instagram.