The Thing with Feathers Review: Caw and Order

If you’re processing grief in the movies these days, apparently you’re going to need a bird. Melissa McCarthy found solace with a starling in The Starling. Naomi Watts rehabilitated alongside a magpie in Penguin Bloom. Julia Louis-Dreyfus negotiated with Death itself, manifested as a parrot, in Tuesday. In the upcoming H is for Hawk, Claire Foy channels her mourning into training a goshawk.

Now Benedict Cumberbatch is haunted by a crow in The Thing with Feathers, Dylan Southern‘s adaptation of Max Porter‘s acclaimed novella “Grief Is the Thing with Feathers.” The avian approach to mourning has become its own cinematic subgenre, and depending on your readiness to knock on grief’s door, this British drama will either illuminate one of life’s most unforgiving emotions or extend its shelf life longer than you’d like.

Cumberbatch (The Courier) plays a man known only as Dad, recently widowed and struggling to care for his two young sons while barely processing his own pain. Focused on getting through each day with the boys, he neglects the emotional reckoning that loss demands. That suppression eventually manifests as Crow — an eight-foot, untethered houseguest who taunts him from the shadows, forces uncomfortable confrontations, and refuses to leave until Dad actually faces what he’s been avoiding.

Those who appreciated Tuesday will find familiar territory here, though Southern’s film leans harder into horror elements during its first act. The director, previously known for acclaimed music documentaries like Shut Up and Play the Hits and Meet Me in the Bathroom, makes his narrative feature debut with an assured hand. His decision to create Crow as a practical creature rather than CGI proves essential — designed by acclaimed sculptor Nicola Hicks with what Southern describes as “a touch of Jim Henson,” the beast feels genuinely present in ways digital effects rarely achieve. Eric Lampaert provides the physical performance while David Thewlis voices the creature, and it’s inspired casting. Thewlis delivers a prodding, questioning presence that can be thunderous one moment and reflective the next.

Cumberbatch’s theatrical training comes into play here in a big way. There’s a physicality to his performance — the way he uses his body to convey Crow’s influence taking hold — that would translate beautifully to the stage. That’s not a criticism; the heightened approach serves the material’s surreal demands. Twins Richard and Henry Boxall, seven years old during filming and making their screen debuts, form a genuine triumvirate with their Oscar-nominated scene partner playing their grieving father. Their natural sibling bond translates into something achingly real.

Cinematographer Ben Fordesman, whose work on Saint Maud and Love Lies Bleeding earned BIFA recognition, makes Dad’s home feel increasingly constrictive when Crow dominates the space, while flashback sequences carry an appropriately airy quality. Production designer Suzie Davies (Oscar-nominated for Mr. Turner, recently acclaimed for Saltburn and Conclave) leans into the mood perhaps a bit much — lots of shadows, rain, and dark corners — but the atmosphere serves the subject matter.

There’s no universal timeline for processing grief, and certainly no right way to do it. Not everyone who suppresses their emotions has a Crow waiting to emerge. But this story, this man, needed this experience to move on. For viewers working through their own pain, The Thing with Feathers makes a compelling case for confronting what hurts rather than simply surviving it.