Helen Mirren, Gillian Anderson in the sequel to “Wonder”.

Some of the most captivating moments in White birdMarc Forster's mostly pulpy adaptation of RJ Palacio's graphic novel of the same name is set in flashbacks to the 1940s. This is the memoir of an aging grandmother trying to teach her grandson about kindness. They are also stories of survival, and Forster and cameraman Matthias Königswieser film them in a way that avoids any sentimentality.

In them, the German-Swiss helmsman stands in the background Monster ball, A quantum of comfort and recently A man named Otto strives for a specificity and a clear-eyed honesty that frees parts of this youth film from narrative inventions. Unfortunately, too much of the rest of Mark Bomback's script leans toward saccharine manipulation.

White bird acts as both a prequel and a sequel Wonderanother Palacio work adapted for the big screen. This story was about Auggie Pullman, a 10-year-old boy with Treacher Collins syndrome who is tormented at school by children, including the wealthy Julian (Bryce Gheisar). This begins a few years later with Julian, a little older but still played by Gheisar, starting his first day at a new school. It's an opportunity for Julian to reinvent himself and shed his shady past, and he's decided the best course of action is to stay under the radar. When a classmate (Priya Ghotane) invites Julian to join the vaguely named Social Justice Club, the teenager, constantly hiding under his hoodie, declines.

Later that evening, Julian explains his plan to his grandmother Sara (Helen Mirren), a cultured woman who has traveled from Paris to New York for the opening of her retrospective at the Met. (She humorously views the honor as an institution's way of apologizing to older artists who have either forgotten or completely neglected it.) When Sara leads Julian into the dining room for dinner, she expresses her disappointment – she doesn't think that becoming a wallflower is the right path to take for someone who was once suspended for bullying. Over a meal whose intimacy is signaled by warm lighting and close-ups, Sara tells the story of her childhood and how a boy's compassion and courage saved her life.

White bird It then jumps back to the fall of 1942, where young Sara (Ariella Glaser) is enjoying what her older self now describes as a relatively spoiled youth in a small French town. She spends her days at school drawing intricate doodles and falling in love with Vincent (Jem Matthews), a popular boy. Although news of Nazi invasions dominates the news, to the young girl the occupation feels like a distant topic that is unlikely to reach her part of the world.

But then Sara's reality changes, slowly at first and then more dramatically. The stores she once frequented now have signs saying they no longer serve Jewish stores. Those she called friends treat her with an unusual coldness. In heated nightly conversations, her parents Max (Ishai Golan) and Rose (Olivia Ross) argue about whether or not they should leave their town.

The Nazi influence and presence in the area becomes even more evident when the raids begin, as soldiers storm into homes, offices and schools and make violent arrests. With the help of Julien (Orlando Schwerdt), a quiet boy disabled by polio, Sara narrowly escapes a frightening attack on her own facility. He leads her through an underground labyrinth to the barn where she will live for years and gradually become part of his family. Julian's mother Vivienne (Gillian Anderson) takes special care of Sara, making sure she is fed, sewing her clothes and fiercely protecting her from the eyes of nosy neighbors who may be Nazi informants.

Forster's steady direction keeps this thread going White bird touching, even if it conforms to predictable narrative rhythms. Glaser and Schwerdt are a charismatic duo, and the specificity of the details about the Nazi state's restrictions makes their friendship more tangible and raises the stakes of the film. It's easy to believe that these children care about each other and that their interactions—whether in real life or in the cocoon of their imaginative play—deepen their understanding of each other and the world.

The same cannot be said for the threadbare narrative surrounding the connection between an older Sara and her grandson. These scenes struggle to shake off the stiffness of vague platitudes and superficial character development. Whenever White bird leaves a young Sara and Julien behind, whether contemplating the changing socio-political landscape of Nazi-occupied France or returning to the present, it loses its magic.

The fact that Julien just wanted to learn lessons about kindness works less well here than in Wonder. If he were passionate about a particular cause instead of just being invited to attend the boringly named Social Justice Club, the messages would be from White bird might stick better and feel less manipulative. Instead, the audience is left with Sara's out-of-context allusion to Martin Luther King Jr. – a figure whose quotes have been so diluted by common usage that, much like Sara's story, the power of their meaning is always in danger of being lost.