Melanie Daniels, a San Francisco socialite with a penchant for practical jokes, meets lawyer Mitch Brennar in a pet store. The two playfully argue and Mitch leaves the store without buying his sister’s birthday gift, as intended. Part-joke, part-flirtation, Melanie buys a pair of lovebirds for Mitch’s sister and drives to Bodega Bay, a small, coastal town 2 hours north, to surprise Mitch at his family home.
On the boat voyage back from the Brennar house, Melanie is attacked by a seagull. Mitch and Melanie brush off the incident as an isolated, odd event. But as bird attacks of growing size and severity continue, the Brennars and Melanie conclude that Bodega Bay is under an avian attack. They hole-up in their house, desperate for information and resources, as birds assault the cottage. When Melanie is attacked within an inch of her life, the group decides to escape, driving through thousands of amassed birds. Will they make it to safety? Are these birds somehow being controlled? By a foreign government? By a natural phenomenon? What about by the jealous school teacher? No, not her. Maybe they are linked to Mrs. Brennar’s fear? I’m not so sure. We may never know. In fact, we will never know—because it just ends there!
Despite this frustration, there’s a lot I liked about “The Birds”. I found each character compelling and really enjoyed watching and waiting for the bird attacks to begin. In fact, the act one love-triangle made for an engrossing premise and early hints at bird activity had me constantly guessing when and where bird-shit was about go down (pardon the joke). In a way, “The Birds” is the ‘zombie-movie’ formula with birds, instead of zombies. While zombies movies tend to have a clear set of in-universe rules, the unanswered questions around the bird attacks made this film sort of creepier. Finally, the disunited cafe-argument between Bodega Bay citizens about the possibility, nature, and response to the bird attacks felt far too real, especially considering our nation’s absurd, real-life response COVID-19.
But ultimately, I was disappointed by how this film just drops the ball at the end. I didn’t find the ambiguity mysterious or artistic. It was lazy, as if Hitchcock didn’t know how to land this zany premise. And parallels between the bird attacks and female-jealousy made for a particularly uncomfortable, poorly-aged metaphor. So yeah—a stylish, entertaining film that doesn’t necessarily hold up past curiosity and popcorn.