Some films that I watched when I was a boy made an indelible impression on my imagination. I think I have mentioned some of them: The Bridge on the River Kwai, for example. Our Film of the Week was one such. I have a memory of watching this black and white film — and it had to be black and white — with my father, all caught up in the story of a man, Robert Stroud, sentenced to life imprisonment, who takes an interest in a sparrow that visits the window of his cell when he is in solitary confinement. And from that time on, Stroud makes a study of birds, with the assistance of a generous warden and a friendly guard, so that over time he has a regular aviary of canaries and other songbirds, some of which he gives to the other inmates. But when they suddenly fall ill and begin to die, he must study all he can from the prison’s library to learn about the diseases of birds, and he ends up, by patient trial and error, making discoveries of his own. He acquires the nickname The Birdman of Alcatraz. His story is made public, and some people appeal to the President to have his sentence commuted, but it is not to be: Robert Stroud, imprisoned as a young man in 1909, will die in prison in 1963.
What I’ve just written is a short account of the life of the Robert Stroud you will see in the film. The man upon whose life the film is based did all his bird-keeping in Leavenworth, not in Alcatraz, where he was transferred. He had run away from a horrible home at age 13, and at age 19 he was a convicted murderer, and several years later he murdered a guard and so was sentenced to hang. President Wilson reduced the sentence to life imprisonment in solitary confinement. Other prisoners who knew Stroud had no pretty things to say about him. Some of the characters in the film, besides, including the most influential and powerful warden, a hard-liner played by the brilliant Karl Malden, are fictional. So you should watch the film not as a biography but as what it really is, a study of the persistence of the human spirit even in the worst conditions; and Burt Lancaster, who sacrificed a great deal to see to it that this film was made, is perfect in the role as Stroud. It is a study also of the relations between men who are enemies but who do not wish evil upon each other; and of the possibility that a genuine friendship can develop even when absolutely no ordinary human experiences are in play. That’s the friendship between Stroud and the guard (Neville Brand, in a role that shows what the ungainly-looking fellow could do if you gave him something other than a thug or a clown to play). And it is a study of a kind of motherly love that turns into — something; I won’t give away the details, but Thelma Ritter, as Stroud’s mother, his advocate on the outside, well deserved her Oscar nomination, as did Lancaster, and a youngish Telly Savalas, as the first fellow prisoner who gets a bird as a present from Stroud.
One of the tensest scenes in the film occurs when the prisoners attempt an uprising, and Stroud acts as a voice to relay messages from the warden to the men. Stroud is no meek approver of the penal system. He has written a long work highly critical of American prisons, infuriating the people in charge of Alcatraz. By the time of the revolt, he and the warden, whom he calls by his first name, Harvey, have known one another and fought against one another for many years. Should Stroud be trusted? “He’s never lied to me,” says the warden. Never lied. Is there a kind of enmity that can get some good thing done, or at least keep a very bad thing from getting worse? An enmity that remains within the fence of circumstances, but does not reach into the deepest hearts of the enemies? Even an enmity that draws the enemies closer together? I think so; and that is what you will find in Malden’s and Lancaster’s performances.
The poet Richard Lovelace saw that “Stone walls do not a prison make, / Nor iron bars a cage.” Whether Robert Stroud, the real one, saw it, I don’t know. But I think that the Birdman we watch in this film did.
Today’s film is currently free on Amazon Prime and on Tubi, for those with access to those services.
Word & Song by Anthony Esolen is an online magazine devoted to reclaiming the good, the beautiful, and the true. We publish six essays each week, on words, classic hymns, poems, films, and popular songs, as well a weekly podcast for paid subscribers, Poetry Aloud or Anthony Esolen Speaks. Paid subscribers also receive audio-enhanced posts and access to our full archive and to comments and discussions. To support this project, please join us as a free or paid subscriber. We value all of our subscribers, and we thank you for reading Word and Song!
Based on just the trailer-- tenderness and an independent spirit captivate. At one time singing canaries were in many homes. Several years later they were no where to be had. Have they returned to the marketplace now?
So now you have me thinking about the current political climate. As the divisions grow ever deeper, can we still be civil to one another? Will we be able to tolerate each other?