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6.1/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.1/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Snow Birds remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have exactly ten minutes and a strange craving for black-and-white footage of people falling over in the snow, sure. It’s for the folks who get a kick out of old-school newsreels and that specific, upbeat mid-century narration style. If you are looking for actual plot or anything that isn't just people sliding downhill, you will probably hate it.
The whole thing starts in these sunny California orchards, which feels like a total bait-and-switch. Then, suddenly, we’re at Big Pines. The transition is jarring, like the director just decided to cut the commute entirely.
Pete Smith is doing that thing he does—talking at you with a bit too much enthusiasm. It reminds me of the manic energy in Good Night, Nurse, just with less slapstick and more frostbite. You can tell they really wanted to show off the local winter sports, but the camera work is… well, let’s just say it’s a bit unsteady.
There is this one shot of a ski jump that lasts for about five seconds too long. You just watch a guy stand there, prep, and then wobble. It feels more like a home movie than a professional production. Honestly, I love that about it.
It’s not trying to be Kismet or some grand epic. It’s just a snapshot of a day out. It’s thin, it’s dated, and it’s kind of funny if you watch it while drinking coffee on a Sunday morning. ☕
I noticed the way they frame the sledding. It’s so low to the ground that it looks like they’re going 90 miles per hour, even though they’re probably barely moving. Cinema trickery at its finest. Or just low budgets. Who knows.
It’s a strange, tiny piece of history. Don’t overthink it.