year saturated with sequels, remakes, and CGI-laden spectacles, it’s rare that a small, independent film captures the cultural imagination with the force of a cinematic lightning strike.
But that’s precisely what Quack Quack a surrealist dramedy directed by the elusive newcomer Thea Lux has accomplished.
With its bizarre premise, haunting visuals, and unexpectedly emotional depth, Quack Quack is a film that defies categorization, boldly walking the line between satire and sincerity.
I walked into the theater expecting a quirky indie film about a man who believes he’s a duck. I walked out questioning the constructs of identity, truth, and the roles society forces us to play. This is not merely a review; it’s a dispatch from the emotional trenches of a film that will stick with you long after the credits roll.
Plot Summary (Spoiler-Free)
At the heart of Quack Quack is Elijah Grayson (played by the ever-transformative Matteo St. James), a reclusive man in his early forties living in a dilapidated suburban home that he’s transformed into a makeshift pond habitat. After a traumatic incident hinted at but never explicitly shown Elijah has withdrawn from society and now lives as a duck. He wears feathers. He quacks. He swims in a kiddie pool in his backyard. And, most importantly, he refuses to speak in human language.
His world is disrupted when Cass (breakout star Nyra Baldwin), a social worker with a mysterious past of her own, is assigned to assess his mental fitness after a complaint from a concerned neighbor. What begins as a routine evaluation spirals into a strange and tender exploration of trauma, autonomy, and the boundaries of sanity.
Aesthetic Mastery and Surreal Symbolism
The film’s visual language is nothing short of spellbinding. Lux, who reportedly studied under both Lars von Trier and Bong Joon-ho, masterfully fuses bleak realism with absurdist dream logic. Scenes alternate between washed-out greys and vibrant splashes of color, reflecting Elijah’s mental state and inner world.
Recurring images of duck feathers, water, and cracked eggshells become powerful symbols throughout the narrative. Each is used to represent stages of emotional rebirth, repression, and resistance. Lux’s use of sound especially the discordant blending of natural bird calls with orchestral music immerses the viewer in Elijah’s psyche.
There’s also a certain bravery in how the film refuses to mock its central conceit. Elijah’s belief that he is a duck is never presented as a joke. Instead, it’s a profound metaphor for dissociation and the search for an identity that feels safe in a dangerous world.
Performances That Redefine What’s Possible
Matteo St. James gives what may well be the performance of the decade. It’s difficult to overstate the physical discipline and emotional transparency he brings to the role of Elijah. Spending most of the film barefoot, covered in homemade feathers, and quacking rather than speaking, his portrayal could easily have become a parody. But St. James digs deep, delivering a performance that is raw, restrained, and heartbreakingly human.
Nyra Baldwin’s Cass provides the perfect counterweight. With gentle resilience and hidden vulnerability, she peels back the layers of Elijah’s world without ever reducing him to a “case” or project. Their evolving relationship is neither romantic nor clinical it is something far more rare: a recognition between two broken people who refuse to let each other disappear.
In supporting roles, veterans like Wallace Tierney (as Elijah’s estranged father) and Lin Zhou (as the eccentric neighbor who sees Elijah as a prophet) add dimension and narrative tension.
Themes: Madness, Identity, and the Right to Self-Define
At its core, Quack Quack is about the audacity to choose one’s own truth, even when that truth defies societal logic. Elijah’s journey forces the audience to ask: What is madness? Is it deviation from the norm or is it the soul’s resistance to a world that demands conformity?
The film deftly explores the intersections of mental health, trauma, and autonomy. Elijah’s duck identity is treated with ambiguity: it may be a coping mechanism, it may be delusion, or perhaps it’s something even more sacred. Lux never gives a definitive answer and that’s the point. In refusing to pathologize Elijah’s reality, Quack Quack urges empathy over diagnosis.
It also dares to ask whether society’s structures legal, psychological, familial are equipped to nurture people who don’t fit predefined molds. The scenes involving bureaucracy, especially Cass’s confrontations with her overbearing supervisor, underscore how easily compassion is crushed under the weight of institutional rigidity.
A Film That Sparks Conversation
Since its limited release, Quack Quack has sparked intense debate in film circles and on social media. Is Elijah a visionary or a victim? Is Cass enabling or liberating him? Is Lux making a statement about trans identity, neurodivergence, or something else entirely?
The brilliance of Quack Quack is that it resists easy interpretation. It is a film meant to be wrestled with. It makes you uncomfortable. It demands that you examine your own assumptions about normalcy, about empathy, and about the stories we tell ourselves to survive.
Final Verdict
Quack Quack is not for everyone. It’s slow in places. It’s bizarre. It may make some viewers angry or confused. But it is also a rare piece of art that treats its audience as intelligent, sensitive, and capable of embracing discomfort.
It is a film that matters.
In a time when much of Hollywood plays it safe, Quack Quack dives into murky waters and comes out not only intact, but glorious. It is a cinematic risk that pays off with emotional clarity, aesthetic boldness, and a quiet power that lingers.
