Birdy

Alan Parker's film of William Wharton's 1978 novel about two working-class teens who grow up in South Phili and are later scarred in different ways by the Vietnam War captures the vibe of its era and contains some fine performances, inventive photography from Michael Seresin, and a moody score by Peter Gabriel. But the script feels like an alien or artificial intelligence was tasked with writing a movie about friendship, mental illness, and the military without being given any data about any of these subjects. How Nicolas Cage's young babe-magnate and Matthew Modine's introverted weirdo would ever become as close as they are isn’t properly fleshed out. Modine makes some interesting physical choices as the bird-obsessed kid, but what's going on in his mind seems wildly inconsistent. The always-committed Cage apparently had two of his teeth pulled out to make his war-wounded face look more credible. I admire the effort, but I think it's kind of wasted on this perplexing drama.