White Bird in a Blizzard

Synopsis: Kat Connors is 17 years old when her seemingly perfect homemaker mother, Eve, disappears in 1988. Having lived for so long in an emotionally repressed household, she barely registers her mother's absence and certainly doesn't blame her doormat of a father, Brock, for the loss. But as time passes, Kat begins to come to grips with how deeply Eve's disappearance has affected her. Returning home on a break from college, she finds herself confronted with the truth about her mother's departure, and her own denial about the events surrounding it...
Director(s): Gregg Araki
Production: Magnolia Pictures
  3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.4
Metacritic:
51
Rotten Tomatoes:
55%
R
Year:
2014
91 min
Website
706 Views


Mom?

- Kat?

- You okay?

Yeah.

I'm fine

- Why are you all dressed up?

- What do you mean?

- What time is it?

- Almost five.

Really?

I need to get dinner started.

I was 17 when my mother disappeared.

Just as I was becoming

nothing but my body,

flesh and blood, and raging hormones.

She stepped out of hers

and left it behind.

Hi, Mrs. Hillman. Is Phil home?

No. I'm sorry, Katrina.

He's... he's not back yet.

Really?

Supposed to pick me up from school.

I'm sure he's on his way.

You know how he is.

Would you like to come in and...

and wait for him?

That's okay.

Just tell him that I stopped by.

I will.

- Thanks, Mrs. Hillman.

- Oh, no problem, dear.

Dad?

What are you doing home already?

- Have you seen your mother?

- No, why?

She's gone.

What do you mean she's gone?

I came home and she wasn't here.

She's probably at the

store or something.

Her car is in the garage.

Oh, my God, stop being so melodramatic.

She'll turn up.

I called everyone. Nobody's seen her.

Dad, don't worry.

I'm sure everything's fine.

Yeah.

I'm going to my room.

Yeah, it was weird.

She didn't leave a note or anything.

And dad is totally freaking out.

Where do you think she is?

Maybe she finally left him. She's been

threatening to for all these years.

Well, was she, like,

acting weird or something?

No weirder than usual.

Actually, no. Last week I came home from

school and I found her sleeping in my bed.

- What?

- Yeah. Random, right?

When she woke up, she seemed like,

all confused and out of it.

I think she was still half in a dream.

So, anyways, where the

hell were you today?

Oh, yeah.

Sorry, I... I was hanging

out at Thomas', and...

And you were stoned.

Maybe.

You want me to come over?

I don't know, I kind of have

a lot of homework to do.

Since when do you give

a sh*t about homework?

My mom's been on my case

lately about my grades.

Phil, we haven't had sex in,

like, over a week.

I miss f***ing you.

Same here, babe. But...

you know what they say.

Absence makes the heart get stronger.

Yeah.

- Phil, are you in there?

- I'm on the phone.

Could you come out here

for a minute, honey?

I heard a strange noise outside.

You're always hearing strange noises.

Yeah, I'll be out in a sec.

I gotta go. My crazy mom

is imagining things again.

'Kay. Talk to you later.

Okay.

So, no word?

You think we should call the police?

I don't want them coming here

for all the neighbours to see.

Your mother wouldn't like it.

If we don't hear anything by morning,

let's take a drive down to the station.

Mom?

Mom?

Mom?

Mom, what happened?

When I was little, my mother

tried to curl my hair.

Oh, well. We tried.

It looks a little fuller, I suppose.

She named me Katrina so

that she could call me Kat,

because she always wanted a pet.

Come here, Kat.

Purr for me, kitty. Come on. Purr.

That's it. Good, good little kitty.

For years I thought I was her pet.

Kat?

Kat?

Mama?

I'm here, Kat.

I'm here.

No more for you.

God, you're getting fatter by the hour.

My mother always wanted me to be a sylph,

all lithe and elegant like her.

And when I hit puberty, my body

changed seemingly overnight,

the bulk melting off like

I was a snowman in the sun.

Only, instead of finally pleasing her,

that somehow made her

resent me even more.

- Do you love the boy?

- God, Jesus, you scared me.

How long have you been standing there?

Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.

- Well, are you going to answer my question?

- What question?

That boy next door. Do you love him?

What are you talking about?

It's none of your business.

I don't love your father.

- I can't stand him, as a matter of fact.

- What the f***?

Why would you say that to me?

Go f***in' tell it to someone else.

So no note?

No. Nothing.

You say she didn't pack a bag.

Well, nothing seems to be

missing as far as I can tell.

The detective was the polar opposite

of men like my father, and Phil.

He was the kind of man who

carried a gun, got into fights,

killed things with his bare hands.

Was she depressed? Was she on any

kind of medication, or taking anything?

She didn't kill herself, if that's

what you're trying to imply.

Well, the good news is, that...

there's no matches at any

of the hospitals or morgue.

No evidence of foul play.

However, and I hate to be

the one to tell you this,

hundreds of wives go missing every week.

If a woman wants to vanish,

buddy, she can.

Are you saying there's

nothing we can do?

Oh, sure there is. I recommend you

alert your friends, your neighbours.

Tell them to be on the lookout.

Keep an eye on your bank account,

your credit cards,

for any kind of activity.

Got an answering machine?

Good, keep it on.

Your wife might try to contact you.

Feel free to call me...

if anything comes up.

Dad?

Your mother never loved me.

I didn't know what to say,

because I couldn't remember my mother

ever looking at my dad

with anything but contempt.

Maybe a zillion eons ago when

they were young, it was different.

It's perfect, right?

It's everything I've ever wanted.

She was tall, stunning,

like a movie star.

They were the quintessential

American couple,

the future unfurling before them

like some endless magic carpet.

If homemaking was an art or science,

my mother would have won a Nobel Prize.

But once the house is immaculate,

and everything was in its place,

she had nothing left to do but plan

the emptiness of days to come.

And gradually,

the beautiful woman she once was

became no more than a phantom,

wandering away in a snowstorm.

- Hello, sweetheart. What's for dinner?

- Meatloaf.

Yum. Your meatloaf is the cat's meow.

So anyway, do you remember that

ticket I bought at the office raffle?

- Not really.

- Well, guess what? I won.

- It's a crock pot.

- We don't need a crock pot.

What are you talking about? These are

the latest thing. Everyone's getting one.

You can make, stews, pot roast, chilli.

Well, I don't have time to fuss

with it now. I have to finish dinner.

Just put it out of the way.

Over there, on top of the fridge.

He was her doormat. She treated

him like sh*t and he let her.

So imagine my shock when I

visited my father at work one day

and discovered he had game.

Every woman there was into him.

Flirting with him, batting their eyelashes.

Good morning, Mr. Connors.

And who is this pretty young lady?

Good morning, Mindy.

This is Kat, the new receptionist.

I was stunned. These women

actually thought my dad was hot.

But to my mother,

he would always be pathetic.

A constant reminder of the unbearable

repetition and dullness of her life.

My parents' marriage was like a long

drink of water from a frozen fountain.

So cold it turns your teeth to diamonds.

It was hardly a surprise to

learn their sex life sucked.

Meanwhile,

my father had his

own drawer of secrets.

So they just went on like that.

My mom never coming, my dad

jacking off in the basement,

all the while pretending

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Gregg Araki

Gregg Araki (born December 17, 1959) is an American filmmaker involved heavily with New Queer Cinema. His film Kaboom was the first winner of the Cannes Film Festival Queer Palm awarded in 2010. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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