Birdie was born from one of the most ordinary father-son activities. My father, a golf enthusiast but even more of a gadget lover, invites me to a round of golf to spend some time with me. I quickly realize that his main goal is to test his new acquisition: a remote-controlled golf bag stand. As soon as I saw my father walking across the course, 12 feet behind his bag that was moving ahead of him, magically,I immediately knew that I wanted to make a film about this downright hilarious machine, which already seemed to have a life of its own. It was only later that the concept of Birdie appeared to me as an idea I couldn’t pass up: a whimsical, offbeat film, far from anything I’ve done so far.

This film was built around my desire to bring a magical element into our concrete, tangible world. Connecting reality with an imaginary element is, in my opinion, one of the great strengths of art. This relationship allows us to examine purely human dynamics through the symbols and metaphors evoked by a fantastical character or situation—in this case, a golf bag. In this sense, my approach is inspired by the one used by Franz Kafka in his book The Metamorphosis, or by Ali Abbasi in his film Border, two works in which fantastical elements appear within our concrete reality, allowing human issues to be explored in an indirect way. Here, we follow a golf bag on a quest for its romantic ideal, seeking to emerge from suffering. It was important for me to explore the process of taking control of one’s life—the pivotal moments that shape not only our circumstances but who we are. Birdie carries, at its core, this reflection and personal questioning in the face of reevaluating one’s life and the risk that change entails.