Kate Bush: Little Shrew review – this devastating film will make you weep at war’s violence against children
Kate Bush's incredible sense of awe, combined with her ability to balance it with not only deep sadness but also profound grief, is woven throughout her profoundly touching new animated short film, Little Shrew.
Bush hasn't taken the stage in ten years and hasn't put out any new music since 2011, so there's a slight letdown when you realize this film doesn’t feature any new tracks. (In a BBC Radio 4 interview while promoting the film, she suggested that she might soon start writing new songs again.) Instead, the film features an edited version of "Snowflake," the first song from her 2011 album, *50 Words for Snow*, which is a duet with her son, Bertie.
Bush has always created remarkable work that explores family relationships. In "Cloudbusting," he captures the lasting admiration that sons can feel for their fathers well into adulthood. "This Woman’s Work" powerfully reflects on the intense emotions surrounding childbirth and the wonder of new life. His album "Aerial" delves into similar themes, featuring everything from a touching tribute to motherhood in "A Coral Room" to a beautifully innocent song dedicated to Bertie.
Snowflake carries on this theme, as Bertie appears as a snowflake swirling through the night, while Bush expresses his desire to catch him: “The world is so loud / Keep falling / I’ll find you.” This beautifully captures the essence of being a parent: the confusion it brings and our deep yearning to protect our kids in the chaos of life, blinded by our love for them. There’s also a subtle lesson woven into the song – if we hold onto our children too tightly, they might slip away from us.
It has always seemed larger than just Kate and Bertie, but Bush brings an incredibly impactful new layer to it by transforming Little Shrew into a heartfelt tribute for children impacted by war, especially in Ukraine (the film was created in partnership with the charity War Child). In a supporting essay, Bush reflects on Bertie, stating: “I find his performance profoundly touching. Although I initially composed the song to showcase his lovely high-pitched voice before he turned into a teenager, it has gained a haunting significance within this animation’s narrative.”
Bush is both the writer and director of the film, and she created the storyboards based on her own drawings. These illustrations were crafted by Jim Kay, who is renowned for his work on Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls (which served as inspiration for Bush) and illustrated versions of the Harry Potter books. The animations were brought to life by the studio Inkubus.
Little Shrew tells the story of a Ukrainian pygmy shrew, mesmerized by a glowing ball of light from deep in the solar system. The tiny creature darts out from its snug spot in the pocket of a coat, revealing that it's nestled against the lifeless body of a soldier resting against a tree. The shrew navigates through a ravaged landscape, dodging the chaos of Russian attacks launched from the expressionless face of a drone. Bush lingers on the gaping hole of a bombed-out building, brought to life from an image by Maksim Levin, a Ukrainian photographer who lost his life during the conflict.
Bush mentions that she initially thought about making a child the main character, which some readers might see as an overly sweet and sentimental option, especially with the image of a frightened little creature with a twitching nose. However, for me, this choice actually heightens the sense of horror. Observing the fragile, trembling body of the animal, contorting in fear as it faces an explosive blast, is almost too much to take; if it were a child in that situation, it might come off as manipulative or excessive.
The shrew serves as a powerful symbol for children affected by war. Just like animals, these kids navigate through conflict with a sense of confusion and vulnerability, often lacking the words to express the trauma of experiencing explosions or witnessing death. They share the same innocence as shrews, and as seen in both Ukraine and Gaza, they are frequently overlooked by those who perpetrate violence.
Bush deepens the emotional impact by crafting an ambiguous conclusion. She may represent that guiding light, reiterating, “The world is so loud / Keep falling / I’ll find you” – a powerful message to the children of Ukraine, reminding them they are not overlooked, heightened by this song filled with deep, passionate love for her own son. Yet, the shrew is depicted spiraling through darkening space, never reaching solid ground. Bush emphasizes that there is no resolution for children caught in the chaos of war, except for an ending imposed upon them. This film moved me to tears for each and every one of them.
