BIRD IN HAND (Tribeca 2025) – Review by Sherin Nicole
In Bird in Hand, which premiered at Tribeca, director Melody C. Roscher presents an eccentric examination of generational trauma, interracial complexities, and a toxic tango between a mother and daughter that’ll leave you wide-eyed at their grifter-level antics.
Set against the backdrop of rural Virginia, the film follows Bird (Alisha Wainwright), a woman whose life becomes increasingly complicated because she can’t stop sabotaging herself. When she visits her mom Carlotta (Christine Lahti) under the guise of planning her wedding she’s trying to understand herself and her origins better. Their already strained relationship faces new tensions when Dennis (James Le Gros), Carlotta’s new neighbor shares his plans to renovate his plantation. Did I mention that Bird is Black? Yikes, on that plantation. Her mom is white and she has no idea who her daddy is. More complications come from Bird’s stepfather, Dale (Jeffrey Nordling), and Dennis’ wife Leigh (Annabelle Dexter-Jones), a photographer and a bitter pill. And before you know it Bird and her cuckoo’s nest of misfits are hip-deep in a family satire about secrets, dysfunction, and identity.
Wainwright’s Bird and Lahti’s Carlotta are the accelerants that make this madness burn. Their dynamic is captured in an giggle worthy exchange between the observant Dennis and Bird:
“There’s a thick air between you two.”
“She’s intense.”
“So are you.”
The humor in Bird in Hand is sharp, but it never lets you forget the unresolved hurt lurking behind the quipy comments. Carlotta’s selfishness and disconnect hit like a hammer wrapped in silk—her complaints about the “burden” of walking around with a Black baby and her performative struggles with her daughter’s hair land as both comedy and tragedy. It’s giving “I would’ve voted for Obama a third-time” energy, but make it maternal. When Bird flees to the plantation next door—because of course she’s so confused she runs in the wrong direction, Leigh attempts to commodify Bird’s Blackness for grant money. This girl really can’t catch a break. She’s in desperate need of other Black people to help her understand herself. Where is this woman’s daddy?
Roscher crafts Bird in Hand as a biting blend of absurdity and insights. The film is as much a farce as it is a deep dive into generational trauma and the quest to understand ourselves through our origins. Wainwright and Lahti are the tumultuous anchors of this story. Their performances peel back the layers of lifelong resentment with hilarity and heartbreak, while Roscher smartly denies us any illusions about an easy fix. The closest this movie gets to the gold of kintsugi is the mud of Virginia. By the time the credits roll, you’re smiling because broken isn’t an ending, if you can see where the pieces fit together.
