‘Charliebird’ Review – A Soul Restoring Healing Journey [Tribeca 2025]

Healing comes in a myriad of forms. This is even true if you look at our medical system, deeply flawed as it may be. There are people working within these structures, with specialized degrees that most of us know nothing about, such as music therapists. This does not make the role that they play any less powerful or important. When we need them, they are there for us in ways that we cannot yet imagine. And even still, healing is deeper than that and not simply structured by letters after our names. Healers need healing just as much as the rest of us, and sometimes they need it more. It is a mistake to believe that anyone, even doctors or therapists, has it all together.

Libby Ewing’s first feature film as a director, Charliebird, is passionate, beautiful, and yes, healing. Ewing is wonderfully self-assured behind the camera and, working with Samantha Smart’s script (and co-lead performance), has a mastery of both image and pace. Cinematographer Luca del Puppo is comfortable both in the standard shots in the hospital and the more dreamy, impressionistic moments of Al’s (Smart) flashbacks. The way the film intercuts between the two, thanks to editors Perry Blackshear and Ewing, leaves us wondering where things are headed, but never in a frustrating manner. 

This film could easily be seen as simply a two-hander between Al and her patient, Charlie (Gabriela Ochoa Perez), but it is much more than that. Charlie is 17 years old and quite ill (as she has been for many years), but more than that, she is still a normal teenage girl and everything that this entails. She is both difficult and endearing in the space of a breath, and Perez treads the line with perfect balance. Despite the impressive script, with the wrong Charlie, the film loses what it needs most, empathy and kindness. One of the many ways that they achieve this is by staying away from clichéd moments between Charlie and Al. Yes, when Al first offers her services as a music therapist, Charlie pushes her away. But there is no excessive drama, no tears, no screaming; this is simply a young woman who has seen it all from the medical world, too much of it in fact. She has been forced, as a teenager, to reckon not only with her own mortality, but with what that loss will do to those around her. And Al, to her credit, takes this teenage behavior in stride, almost immediately becoming a solitary, trustworthy figure in Charlie’s life. 

Charlie, of course, has parents (Maria Peyramaure and Gabe Fazio), but it is desperately important that she is introduced alone, for a few reasons. She is on the cusp of adulthood and, because of her condition, she cannot help but feel exactly that, alone. No friends, no family, and certainly no doctors can possibly feel what she is feeling. Not really. They can empathize, as we all hope we can, but lived experience is different, no matter how hard they may try. Although the film begins essentially with the two leads, it becomes much more than that, and again, without needless drama. Even moments of largess and shouting are toned down through a deeply effective sound design that somehow leads us to be drawn in closer, instead of putting us at a distance. 

This is similar to both Al and Charlie, the desire for closeness that they both have, even if they continue to deny it or, worse, completely avoid it. Al hides behind who she is supposed to be as a veteran therapist, and Charlie has her illness as a bit of a shield. As they both wonder exactly what is going on with the other, they meander their way to an understanding of themselves through one another and their burgeoning sisterhood. The narrative is a bit of a magic trick, given that Smart purposefully withholds easy answers and truths from the audience. Frankly, I found myself grateful, as any misstep in this area would lead to audiences rolling their eyes and recalling Patch Adams (which is referenced in a line of dialogue, showing keen awareness of this minefield). Yes, kindness, laughter, and empathy are all important parts of healing. But there is a science behind everything that Al is doing as a music therapist, no matter what the medical doctors may think or say. 

The aforementioned sound design, from Cindy Takehara Ferruccio, also blends perfectly with the musicality of Charliebird. Obviously, this is incredibly important, not only because of Al’s profession, but also because of music’s particular healing power. There is a deeper level of emotion accessible through instrumentation and voice that is absent from any other connective tissue of feeling. This is another area in which the film could have gone off the rails by casting an actress with a perfect Broadway voice. Al sounds like a real person, with a good voice, both when she is having fun with Charlie and when her singing is wracked with emotion.

The growth of these two women and the emotions that they feel, both separately and together, is where Charliebird truly flies. In a festival packed with powerful stories, this is the one I will remember more than any other. The journey the two go on, and not simply the ending, is powerful, beautiful, and soul-restorative.  

Charliebird held its World Premiere as a part of the U.S. Narrative Competition section of the 2025 Tribeca Festival.

Director: Libby Ewing

Screenwriter: Samantha Smart

Rated: NR

Runtime: 98m