A Fallen Fowl Flips the Script
by Elwin Serrao
The Miracle on the Hudson was an incredible feat of aviation skill where Captain Chesley Sullenberger (“Sully”) safely landed a passenger airplane on the Hudson River after hitting a flock of geese which incapacitated both engines. Sully became a hero and the subject of Clint Eastwood’s film Sully featuring Tom Hanks in the title role. Everyone on the plane survived; the geese were not so lucky.
Hudson Geese by Bernardo Britto is an animated short film narrating the story from the point of view of the goose leading the flock. He reflects on his life, the cycles of migration, his family. Happy until being hit he is haunted by the image of the pilot with the white mustache, honored with a cinematic monument for his miraculous landing. But no one remembers the leader of the geese.
The goose re-centers the event with a monotone, grim voice, challenging our views on heroism while presenting humor in an untraditional way. As the top comment says, “The narration stands out to me. It’s melancholic, yet fascinating. The animation has a peaceful style, but it’s both comedic and tragic at the same time.” The goose forces us to think about if unspoken voices are still real. Few would listen to a dead goose; anyone would listen to an empty soul lamenting his family’s death. This introduces the idea of nature’s voice versus humanity’s.
In keeping with the melancholic tone, the goose expresses scorn towards humanity, mainly targeted towards Sully. As Amy Fraher discusses social dependence on heroic figureheads while disregarding teams, she highlights the media over crediting Sully when the rest of the crew, emergency responders, and aviation authorities had just as much of a role in the miracle. The goose highlights that Sully’s hero status came at the expense of forgotten figures.
Sound effects play a role in the comedic relief in the movie. Namely the honks of the geese ground the audience, being self-conscious that we are talking about birds. Honks and flaps of wings interspersed in the film, in the depths of the goose’s humanization arc, contrast his somber point of view but do not discount it.
Use of music and silence help flip-flop the atmosphere of the goose’s happiest and saddest moments. The most intense moments are when the flock takes off and when they are hit. The takeoff is underscored by Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony, magnificent and sublime, foregoing the narration. Upon impact, the music is muted, only the sound of geese genocide present, honks that were once comedic now reflect death.
The limited human voices are deliberately detached. Clint Eastwood’s “action” and Tom Hanks’s “we did our jobs” were so void of emotion, the same emotion they had for the goose. From his perspective, they are the soulless ones and they make a mockery of his death. Sully’s “oh, birds” at the end followed this soullessness and voidness, emphasizing that he only saw the flock as an inconvenience to his story. It also follows that Sully is the only voice from the event, furthering this hero (or villain) complex pushed upon him.
In Martin Dinter’s discussion on epic heroes, he explores the formula of an epic hero: “X will die to increase the glory of Y. (154)” These “X”s are minor heroes, who are set up for slaughter. They provide a compact, economical way to move the major hero’s story along. Captain Sully’s name is immortalized because of what he did to those birds. Beyond just the geese, nature as a whole falls victim to the epic hero of humanity. The goose reflects on the ever changing landscape, including the fields being torn apart and paved, the diamond plots of land being molded with the will of humans. Britto’s film comically yet soberly uses this case as a reminder of humans’ effect on nature and the price of our progress.
The film gives the goose leader a voice that is god-like and omniscient. Nature is voiceless against human attack and this narration gives it a voice. Voiceovers force the audience to trust the narrator and as Sarah Kozloff says, “We put our faith in the voice not as created but as creator (45).” In giving the goose this power, we give the goose full reign to flip the script on a historic miracle, that humans are the inconvenience, not geese. We have a complete reset on who is really the victim in our coexistence with nature.
Furthermore, the goose leader speaking from beyond the grave puts more weight on his words. Oftentimes, mourners wish they had appreciated the dead while they were still alive; the goose utilizes this wish to tell his story. Kozloff further writes about the irony of narrators as they can easily ruin their credibility with one wrong statement. As they introduce their bias on the story, they can contrast the image track which could either strengthen or weaken their stance (109-110). The goose cements himself as the voice of wisdom in an ignorant world, recasting himself as the epic hero.
Humans try to mold the world in their image, forgetting who was there first and who will remain long after. One instance of massacre does not stop millennia of institution. While humans display themselves as closer to divine than animals, this film questions that untouchability. Afterall, we model our inventions after them, from airplanes to leadership patterns.
This minor hero of Sully’s story offers recalibration of our moral compass. He calls into question the thought of hidden figures in a hero’s story. The film follows a recent trend in highlighting hidden figures but does it in a unique way. We do not get Tom Hanks’s or Clint Eastwood’s accounts, only that of the victim.