White Bird

Conveying worthwhile messages of kindness and tolerance with a heavy hand, White Bird finds its uplifting takeaways muddled by the sentimental delivery.

This modest coming-of-age saga about persecution and survival during World War II tends to simplify and sanitize its gut-wrenching true-life backdrop, which compromises its emotional impact.

It’s partially a spinoff from the 2017 drama Wonder, linked only by a single character whose presence primarily serves to trigger the flashbacks that compose the bulk of the story.

That lone returnee is Julian (Bryce Gheisar), who was a preteen bully facing expulsion in the first film and now is on the receiving end as a teenage outcast at a New York private school.

Struggling to fit in while still seeking redemption, Julian is visited by his grandmother, Sara (Helen Mirren), who senses an opportunity to change Julian’s path by telling her own harrowing story of courage while being raised Jewish in Nazi-occupied France.

In 1942, Sara (Ariella Glaser) evaded capture while hiding for several months in a barn belonging to the family of a classmate (Orlando Schwerdt) who was ostracized while suffering from polio. As their friendship deepens, she hopes to be reunited with her family.

As directed by Marc Forster (Finding Neverland), the stylish period visuals provide a sense of authenticity, although the score becomes overbearing with its piano and strings.

The tonally uneven screenplay by Mark Bomback (The Art of Racing in the Rain), adapted from a graphic novel by R.J. Palacio, gains power through Sara’s resilience and fortitude, yet also tends to water down her broader experiences into a series of contrivances and platitudes.

The intentions are heartfelt, of course, particularly with regard to exploring Holocaust horrors through a child’s eyes. But as a history lesson, it treads familiar thematic ground without offering much fresh insight or tension.

Expressive performances by the youngsters help drive home lessons of acceptance and courage in the face of persistent oppression and danger. We can’t help but sympathize with Sara’s plight, even if the film downplays the psychological toll of her isolation from the outside world.

Despite some intermittent poignancy and charm, the predictable story and thin characters prevent White Bird from taking flight.

Rated PG-13, 121 minutes.