Remember the day you struck out on your own to find your place in the world? Remember longing to go back home during that awkward time of being not entirely here and not entirely back there? Homebird, a National Film and Television School graduation film created entirely in paint-on-cel technique, reminds us we can take home with us.
Gurpreet
Homebird – Reflections The film is a beautiful depiction of an experience so many of us go through, but often don’t speak about. We may think we are alone, though we are not. When we grow up and go into the real world, we are full of dreams. We are excited about what the future may hold. But soon we also run into the anxiety of whether we can make it. The unfamiliar places and people can hit us like a cold wall. We suddenly find ourselves too small, out of place, not smart enough, not cool enough, not ______ you can fill in the blanks. We try hard to ‘fit’ in, or worse, start unconsciously despising ourselves, our roots. Sometimes the anxiety and fear of rejection makes us run away even before we enter the room and say ‘hello’. The rooster that accompanies the girl becomes a poignant metaphor, akin to a cherished companion. In the grand theater of life, our loved ones often witness our struggles to make a mark, silently standing by. Sometimes, they stand as the sole witnesses to our battles, unwittingly becoming casualties of our emotional turmoil—be it a mother, a partner, or a loyal friend. Fortunately, the narrative takes a positive turn as the girl embraces herself, her origins, and strides confidently into the world, her 'loyal buddy' cradled in her arms. I wonder what the film maker tries to convey in the part when the girl goes back to her childhood home – finding solace in the familiar embrace of her surroundings and her mother, she soon grapples with the feeling of outgrowing her past. She finds herself too big to fit into the same pool, too big for the park bench, too big in front of her mother, too big to fit under the ceiling. Like a puzzle piece no longer fitting its place, she realizes she has evolved beyond the confines of her childhood abode. This symbolism echoes the universal theme of attempting to revisit our past or 'home,' only to recognize that while occasional visits are comforting, we cannot settle here. Like the fledglings in the nest, when it is time to fly, they have to leave the nest. It is painful, but necessary part of life. Your childhood home always welcomes you, but you must move on. With your mother’s shawl proudly wrapped around your shoulder, head held high and feet confident that the way forward will open up new beginnings for you, and new friends at every turn.