White Bird: A Wonder Story is a movie I probably won’t see again, and there are a couple reasons for that. First, it felt super disconnected from Wonder—the movie it’s supposedly a sequel to. Plus, Wonder came out seven years ago and didn’t really need a sequel. But the second reason—the main reason—I didn’t like White Bird was its misleading message.
Just a Few Spoilers
Honestly, this post has some spoilers, but they’re worthwhile spoilers. It’ll be helpful for you to know what’s in White Bird before you spend two hours watching it (and before you spend a considerable amount of money on tissues). White Bird is an emotional rollercoaster you may not want to go on.
The movie opens with Julian (a character from Wonder) navigating life at a new school because he was expelled from his old school for bullying. His goal is to fit in, not make waves and end up in trouble. But his grandmother Sara doesn’t think it’s wise for him to simply fit in with his peers because she knows from personal experience that conformity can lead to cruelty. And she shares her experience with Julian with the hope that he’ll realize that.
(Cue the flashback to the mid-1900s.) Sara lives in a Jewish household in France with a loving mother and father. She’s great at drawing, but she isn’t great at being kind—especially not to Julien, a boy in her class who has to use crutches to walk because he has polio. But when Nazis arrive at Sara’s school unexpectedly one day and Julien offers to protect her, her view of him begins to change.
Sara stays at Julien’s house—actually, in his family’s barn—for several months to avoid being seen by the Nazis and taken to a concentration camp. He and his parents take great care of her, and she learns to appreciate their kindness. A romance blossoms between Julien and Sara, but unfortunately, they have little time to enjoy it because he’s captured and killed by the Nazis. Eventually, after Germany leaves France, Sara reunites with her father but learns her mother was taken to a concentration camp long ago.
Though tragic, the end of Sara’s story deeply impacts her grandson Julian—who is named after Sara’s friend Julien. Realizing that kindness is courageous, Julian decides to show kindness at his new school. The movie ends with Sara speaking at an art event, imploring those in the audience to shine their inner lights. That’s when I officially decided I would probably never watch White Bird again.
The Light That Never Goes Out
You see, we don’t go around preaching about ourselves. We preach that Jesus Christ is Lord, and we ourselves are your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ. We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves. (2 Corinthians 4:5-7 NLT)
While the movie’s theme of showing kindness in the face of adversity is obviously a good theme, it implies that people can have courageous kindness when they look within themselves—when they find their inner lights and shine them in the darkness. But they don’t realize that their inner lights are nonexistent because they’re in the darkness too.
Apart from Jesus, no one—not even the most amazing person in the world—has an inner light. The strength to endure trials gracefully and demonstrate selflessness in the midst of them comes from Him alone. Unfortunately, when people believe they have inner lights, they don’t really understand their need for the light of Christ.
In short, White Bird offered cultural clichés and empty promises, not genuine hope. If you’re looking for that, you can find it in Scripture. You’ll discover that the light of Christ is the only light that never goes out—and it can shine through you if you simply ask Him.