“The Thing With Feathers”: A Haunting Meditation on Grief and Hope at the Berlinale

The Berlinale Special Gala has long been a platform for cinematic storytelling that pushes boundaries, and this year, Dylan Southern’s The Thing With Feathers proved to be a standout. Starring Benedict Cumberbatch as a grieving father whose reality is shattered by the sudden loss of his wife, the film brings to life an eerie yet deeply emotional exploration of loss, memory, and acceptance.

The film, adapted from Max Porter’s critically acclaimed novella Grief is the Thing with Feathers, blends psychological horror with an intimate family drama, resulting in an experience that is as unsettling as it is cathartic. Southern, previously known for his work in music documentaries (Shut Up and Play the Hits, No Distance Left to Run), makes an audacious fiction debut, delivering a visual and emotional journey unlike any other.

Adapting the Unadaptable: Dylan Southern’s Creative Challenge

Max Porter’s novel is a unique blend of prose and poetry, structured in an unconventional manner that oscillates between different perspectives and tenses. Bringing such a layered, fragmented narrative to the screen was no small feat.

“I first read Max’s book in 2015, shortly after it was published, and I was profoundly moved by it,” Southern said at the Berlinale press conference. “It gave a language to some of the things that I’d felt or some of the ways that I’d behaved when dealing with grief.”

Given the book’s abstract nature, Southern knew that the film could not be a direct adaptation. Instead, he focused on capturing its essence—an experiential deep dive into grief. “I wanted people to feel the way I felt reading it,” he explained. “The cinematic language for it became clearer to me as I progressed through it.”

Benedict Cumberbatch: A Tour de Force Performance

Portraying a man unravelling under the weight of grief, Benedict Cumberbatch delivers a raw and vulnerable performance, oscillating between stoic repression and emotional breakdown. His character, simply called ‘Dad,’ struggles to hold on to reality as an eerie crow—an embodiment of his mourning—torments him and his two young sons.

Cumberbatch, known for his immersive approach to complex roles (The Power of the Dog, Patrick Melrose), spoke about the challenge of embodying a man trapped in the disorienting waves of loss. “I like things that allow interior thought in cinema to be seen, imagined, or witnessed in a non-verbal way,” he said. “This film gave me the opportunity to explore grief in a way that feels raw and unfiltered.”

His performance is complemented by the two young actors playing his sons, whom Cumberbatch called “brilliant” and “natural.” Their authentic presence on-screen adds to the film’s emotional impact, showing how grief manifests in children versus adults.

The Crow: A Manifestation of Trauma

At the heart of The Thing With Feathers is the Crow, an anthropomorphic figure that terrorizes the family. This supernatural presence is both a menace and a guide, pushing them to confront their pain.

Southern described Crow as “a force that refuses sentimentality,” stating: “It won’t allow Dad to indulge in magical thinking. It forces him to see grief for what it is.” This frightening and cathartic duality adds to the film’s psychological complexity.

Cumberbatch elaborated on the physical and emotional challenges of interacting with such an abstract entity. “We had real crows, animatronic crows, and, at times, just bits of tape on the floor representing my dead wife,” he said with a wry smile. “But it was all part of capturing something that feels both surreal and brutally real.”

Grief, Hope, and the Power of Art

One of the film’s most profound messages is its exploration of the role of creativity in the grieving process. Cumberbatch’s comic book artist character finds himself drawing his pain, creating imagery that blurs the line between his work and his reality.

Southern explained this choice: “There’s a huge element of this film about the power of creativity when you’re going through something like this. The boys play, they make things. Dad draws. Storytelling helps us understand our lives.”

Cumberbatch echoed this sentiment, reflecting on the difference between grief and despair: “Despair doesn’t have hope. Grief, if you allow yourself to live with it, can.” He emphasized the idea that art—whether painting, writing, or filmmaking—serves as a means of processing and making sense of the incomprehensible.

A Unique Approach to Cinematic Language

Visually, The Thing With Feathers is striking. Shot in a claustrophobic 4:3 aspect ratio, the film emphasizes the family’s sense of entrapment. At times, the screen expands to reveal the dreamlike, expressionistic world of Crow, creating a stark contrast between reality and subconscious terror.

Southern’s directorial vision and Cumberbatch’s haunting performance create an immersive and deeply personal exploration of love, loss, and the slow path toward healing.

As Cumberbatch aptly put it: “Letting go is not about forgetting. It’s about moving forward while carrying the love that remains.”