Jason Sondhi
A short film as structurally perfect as a New Yorker Magazine short story, and possessing that same blend of literary quality married to contemporary urban themes, Bird in Hand is a revelation to me—a sexy, playful, queer story where the queerness is taken for granted in order to prioritize other elements. At a tight 13min, Brooklyn filmmaker Nick Beardslee has crafted a real delight, economically establishing the world and the context of his characters before colliding them in a tense will-he-or-won’t-he romantic drama adorned with modest mystery elements. The stakes are ultimately low, but the characters are authentic, and the plot keeps you guessing until the end. Sophisticated and satisfyingly self-contained, it would not be out of place within a prestige TV anthology series and is one of my faves of the year so far.
The film starts with Daniel (Drew Elhamalawy) over at another man’s apartment. It’s about to get hot and heavy, but when his partner excuses himself to freshen up in the bathroom, Daniel takes the opportunity to rifle through his belongings, eventually pocketing a small brass bird figurine. Cut to a small gathering at another apartment, where Daniel walks in, bird in pocket. While there, he is introduced to a mutual friend, Riley (Julian Manjerico). Sparks fly on first look. They have a chat outside and the pair’s chemistry is effortless and potent. Only problem? Riley has a boyfriend and reluctantly excuses himself. Is this nascent connection real though? Will Riley betray his relationship? Is Daniel’s interest legitimate, or is he simply a trophy collector? These are the questions and tensions the film presents to the viewer.
Drew Elhamalawy portrays “Daniel” with a perfect bad-boy mix of sensitivity, sexiness, and danger.
Up top, I praised the film’s structure, and often when we talk about this, we discuss the script. Written by Beardslee as well, the film has a great one, with three clearly delineated acts and a well-set-up mystery element that pays off in the denouement and rewards a rewatch. However, it is the blend of direction and editing that strikes me as most noteworthy. Simply put, the first act is a marvel of concision, with, arguably, no wasted shots or motion. The speed and seeming effortlessness with which Beardslee establishes Daniel’s nature as a love-em-and-leave-em pretty crook, and the easy naturalism of the party scene, which is aided by very few lines of dialogue, is praise-worthy. I still subscribe to the out-of-fashion idea that shorts should immediately work to hook an audience, especially if they lack a hi-concept angle, and filmmakers everywhere could take notes on Beardslee’s work here.
“…I also want to see more queer cinema that can step into genre territory (whether it’s mystery, horror, sci-fi) or build upon the queer experience in new ways.”
All these positives collapse without strong performances at their center though. Both main actors, Elhamalawy and Manjerico have relatively short filmographies, however, I would expect that to change in the near future if they were to choose so. Simply put, they are magnetic. Elhamalawy strikes the perfect pose of a sensitive bad boy, equal parts sexy and menace, while Manjerico, fresh off a role in the new Tom Hanks film, A Man Named Otto, has arguably the more difficult assignment as the conflicted Riley. Fresh out of central casting for a modern Brooklynite, you could tell me that I missed him in High Maintenance or Search Party and I wouldn’t bat an eye. The ease with which they inhabit their archetypes is a key component of the concision that I praised the film for, and their fission together is essential for selling the conflict of the story.
And, by the way, what a pleasure that the conflict of the story is so (relatively) light-hearted! In discussing the inspiration of the film with Beardslee something he relayed resonated with myself and our curatorial team at large, as he remarked “I made Bird in Hand because it’s the kind of movie I want to watch. We still get a lot of queer cinema that’s about oppression, trauma, coming out, or some kind of reminder that queer people aren’t fully accepted. Those stories are important. We need them. But I also want to see more queer cinema that can step into genre territory (whether it’s mystery, horror, sci-fi) or build upon the queer experience in new ways.” I agree wholeheartedly and I do think that sites like ours are partly to blame for the way that we still segment out LGBTQIA+ films as a distinct “genre”. Similarly to animation, this marker can and should encompass all genres, and while Bird in Hand is not agnostic to its queerness—Daniel’s promiscuity and Riley’s temptation both play off of tropes and stereotypes regarding gay sexuality—the film treats the sexuality of its characters as routine and unremarkable. Bravo!
We’re proud to present the online premiere of Bird in Hand today. The film played New York’s NewFest in the fall but has otherwise had a light festival run. Programmers, you should reach out with invites, as this is one of the best short films of 2023, queer or otherwise. Beardslee tells us that he is currently developing two feature screenplays: one a gay heist film, the other, a cosmic breakup story. He’s planning proof-of-concept shorts for both projects, so hopefully we will be able to welcome him back to Short of the Week in the near future.