Claire Foy helps ‘H Is for Hawk’ take flight

      Old MacDonald may have had a farm, but I’m willing to bet he didn’t have a lethal goshawk on it. But young Helen Macdonald does. Well, not on a farm. It’s actually a flat in jolly ol’ England she shares with Mabel, a predatory killing machine who, for lack of a better description, is her pet. But don’t dare drop the “P word” around the wicked-smart research fellow from Cambridge. She considers Mabel more of a feathered friend, one she credits with an invaluable assist in helping her conquer the unbearable grief of losing her Da, acclaimed Daily Mirror photojournalist Alisdair Macdonald.

    From what I understand, the younger Macdonald’s award-winning memoir, “H Is for Hawk,” is considered by many to be the definitive study on processing the death of a parent. I haven’t read it, but I think I’m correct in assuming that Philippa Lowthorpe’s film version doesn’t soar nearly as high. Like most biopics, it suffers from an acute case of bungled transference from page to screen.

    It’s not like scenarist Emma Donoghue (the Oscar-winning “Room”) doesn’t try her damnedest to enable us to eavesdrop on Helen’s inner monologues. But her long-winded adaptation of “H Is for Hawk” struggles to communicate exactly what it is about Mabel that enables the magnificent raptor to heal her uptight captor.

     It helps a bit that Helen is being portrayed by Claire Foy, flawless at conveying a woman, not unlike her Emmy-winning rendering of Queen Elizabeth II, whose tight upper lip seldom wavers. You might say Foy has bottled the formula for playing bottled-up women. She also has that unique gift of effortlessly finagling us into caring about someone as distant and withdrawn as Helen, hardly a frontrunner for congeniality awards.

    As Helen, one look at Foy sends you reaching for a parka. The chill Helen emits is palpable, leaving little wonder as to why she has so few friends. Heck, she barely tolerates her Mum (Lindsay Duncan) and brother, James (Josh Dylan). It’s different, though, with her Da (a warm and cuddly Brendan Gleeson), an amateur ornithologist whom she credits with instilling a deep affection for nature and birds in particular.

     In the opening scenes, Helen phones her pops to excitedly report that she’s just witnessed a pair of graceful goshawks gliding around each other in a quasi-mating dance. Da shares her enthusiasm, instantly clueing us in that he’s more than just a father, he’s a kindred spirit, a fact Lowthorpe can’t underscore enough.

    So, it’s not difficult to grasp the scope of Helen’s loss when Mum informs her that Da has passed, felled by a heart attack while doing the thing he loved almost as much as Helen – photography. Later, it’s revealed that he never took his finger off the shutter, even as he was taking his final breath before tumbling to the ground.

    It’s that level of dedication to something, anything, Helen so desperately wants to emulate. She somewhat enjoys her teaching gig at Jesus College, though she’s a little flummoxed by her students’ middling desire to learn. That, coupled with losing her father, leaves her hungrier than ever to escape from the thick black cloud hovering over her. Desperate, she out of the blue decides to purchase a goshawk off the Internet. This, despite scarcely knowing how to care for it beyond what she’s learned piecemeal from her dedicated falconer friend, Stuart (Sam Spruell).

     In no time, Helen becomes snobbishly obsessed, to the point that when her peers at Jesus dare deem Mabel a “hobby,” Helen reacts as if they’d dropped an F-bomb. Falconing is not a lark, she gruffly informs them, it’s life. And for a loner like Helen, it indeed is, as Mabel becomes a sort of surrogate for vicariously indulging her more feral instincts. She’s particularly drawn to Mabel’s calculating approach to death, especially when Helen sets her free to hunt her favorite dish – rabbits. Instead of being aghast, Helen finds it oddly cathartic to watch Mabel rip her prey to shreds with her razor-sharp talons and can-opener beak.

    Mabel, in essence, becomes her mentor in how to accept death and process grief. But her growing fixation comes at the exclusion of her family, work, and even her die-hard bestie, Christina (Denise Gough). The roots of Helen’s self-imposed isolation are her struggles with depression and ADHD.  But there’s also a lack of self-awareness, metaphorically represented by the cowl she places over Mabel’s expressive eyes to block out all that could potentially upset the goshawk.

     Having played Queen Elizabeth II for a couple of seasons on “The Crown,” imperviousness is nothing new to Foy. If anything, she’s even better at it here than there. She’s also more sympathetic, especially to anyone who’s dealt with the trauma of losing a parent. Through a series of flashbacks, Lowthorpe reveals how Helen’s charming teddy-bear of a dad not only became her rock but also heavily shaped her perspective on life. He was the only person who understood her quirkiness, making his loss even more challenging. And you feel that loss, largely because Gleeson renders the man so tender and caring.

    Yet, it seldom dawns on Helen how disappointed Da would be if he could see her now, deliberately estranged from her friends, family and studies to go all in with Mabel. The bond between woman and bird is touching at first, but Lowthorpe and Donoghue dwell on it to distraction. We get it, all ready.

    Inevitably, Helen’s pity party starts to grate. Yet, it’s almost impossible to look away. I was particularly awed by Foy’s expert handling of the highly dangerous goshawks, often perched majestically on her forearm. I’d be terrified, but Foy is a natural around the birds, never once wincing when Mabel gets jumpy. It’s an impressive achievement.

     Too bad it’s in the service of a movie that struggles so hard to connect with its audience. It’s an inspiring story to be sure. But so much of it takes place inside Helen and Mabel’s heads that it would challenge even the finest of directors to pull it off. But, damn, that goshawk sure is something, dazzling you with what I dare say is a beak performance.

Movie review

H Is for Hawk

Rated: PG-13 for smoking and some strong language

Cast: Claire Foy, Brendan Gleeson, Denise Gough,  Sam Spruell and Lindsay Duncan

Director: Philippa Lowthorpe

Writer: Emma Donoghue

Runtime: 115 minutes

Where: In theaters Jan. 23 (limited)

Grade: B-