Songbird (2020)

Songbird takes a frighteningly familiar idea—lockdown life—and turns it into a lean, propulsive thriller that feels like a midnight chase movie shot through with raw, present-tense anxiety. Adam Mason keeps the camera moving and the stakes personal, as KJ Apa’s immune courier threads a militarized Los Angeles with the kind of scrappy urgency that makes you forget you’re watching a “pandemic film” and start gripping the armrest instead. The movie’s best trick is how it balances dread with momentum: Craig Robinson brings a grounded, human pulse, and the whole thing is engineered to be brisk, tense, and surprisingly watchable rather than preachy. It’s not for everyone—if pandemic imagery is still too close to the bone, steer clear—but if you want a relevant, high-energy sci-fi thriller with heart and hustle, this one delivers.

Songbird is clearly trying to bottle real-world pandemic anxiety into a lean, near-future chase romance, with martial-law tension and a “love against the system” hook. The problem is it rarely earns its urgency: the writing and characterization feel thin, the social commentary is more window dressing than insight, and the suspense often plays like noise rather than escalation. If you’re hoping for a smart, probing sci‑fi thriller or a genuinely moving love story, this may feel opportunistic and oddly hollow. Still, there are a few brisk set pieces and a committed supporting turn or two, so it can work as disposable, grim popcorn if your tolerance for bleakness is higher than your need for depth.