Earthquake Bird

Another guilty Netflix pleasure, Earthquake Bird is as predictable as it tries not to be. Labeled a “psychological drama mystery thriller,” directed by Wash Westmoreland and based on The Earthquake Bird by Susanna Jones, this November 2019 release is a good way to spend 108 minutes with your brain in low-power mode.

Alicia Vikander, who won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar in 2016 for The Danish Girl, gives it her all in this Scott Free Productions production. She even learned Japanese (by rote) for the role, playing a gloomy Swedish woman living in Tokyo who convinces herself that those around her are at constant risk of sudden death simply by being near her, perhaps the very reason she has “escaped” to Japan.

Vikander is subtle in the role. A brief glance, a slight movement of the brow, or a lift of the chin conveys more than most of Lucy Fly’s dialogue. But the name Lucy? Really? More on that in a moment.

The other girl, Lily Bridges, played by Riley Keough, is a ditzy American newly arrived in Tokyo to work as a bartender (a hostess in the book?). From the outset we know she's gone missing and is presumed murdered, with most of the film unfolding in flashback.

And back to the name Lucy: with Lily dead, it’s hard not to think of Lucie Blackman. The novel came out the same year Blackman’s remains were discovered, in 2001, a year after her murder. So watching Earthquake Bird I was uncomfortable with the possibility that Susanna Jones may have incorporated Blackman’s killing into her pages of entertainment, or maybe it’s just a huge coincidence. Though wouldn’t it have been respectful of Jones, or Scott Free Productions, or Netflix to have at the very least changed the name Lucy/Lucie to something else?

I liked the shots of Tokyo. The location scouts, with countless spots to choose from, found some great places to film. I also liked the idea of the “earthquake bird” and wondered if it’s actually a real phenomenon, that eerie, distant call said to follow a sizable quake. I remember hearing something like it once myself and assumed it was a distant car alarm. Also, it was refreshing to see places like Ikebukuro and Sado Island in this, rather than the usual focus on Shinjuku or the Shibuya Crossing.

Those were the parts that particularly held my interest, along with Vikander’s restrained performance. The villain, if that’s what he is, feels hollow. We’re given no real motive or background for his behavior. He’s simply presented as unstable, and that’s that. By the end, it almost seems as if he’s dangerous simply because he isn’t a Westerner. At this point, that kind of characterization feels tired. Wouldn’t it have been more interesting if the expected roles had been reversed? And what did the sound of the earthquake bird have to do with anything else in the story? Either I missed the connection or I didn’t care enough by that point to look for it.