The Mudge Boy

In the quiet sweep of a Midwestern poultry farm, a young boy learns to measure the world through the soft cluck of chickens and the quiet rustle of cornfields. After the sudden loss of his mother, Duncan Mudge lives with his emotionally distant father, navigating a landscape that feels both familiar and profoundly empty. The farm, with its routine chores and open skies, becomes a sanctuary where grief can be whispered to the wind, while also amplifying the sense of isolation that settles between father and son.

Edar—a man still caught in the aftershocks of his own sorrow—maintains the property with a stoic presence that often leaves Duncan searching for connection elsewhere. In this tenderly observed setting, the everyday becomes a canvas for quiet rituals: caring for the birds, slipping into familiar, worn garments left behind, and finding moments of comfort in the simple act of holding a feathered companion. These small gestures hint at a deeper yearning to reclaim pieces of the mother he has lost and to understand the fragile identity forming within him.

When a wandering neighbor named Perry drifts into Duncan’s routine, the farm’s stillness is gently stirred. Perry’s easy confidence and his own complicated family history offer Duncan a mirror for his own feelings—confusion, curiosity, and the tentative hope of companionship. Their interactions are shaded with the tentative steps of adolescence, where affection is both a discovery and a risk, and where the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur.

The film unfolds in a tone that balances melancholy with a delicate, almost reverent humor, inviting the audience to linger in the spaces between loss and longing. It is a portrait of a boy standing at the edge of adulthood, learning to navigate his emotions, his sense of self, and the sparse, beautiful world that surrounds him—without ever losing sight of the quiet resilience that fuels his journey.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 10:49