Hummingbirds are described as “sweet warriors” by Terry Masear, a hummingbird rehabber in Los Angeles. She runs a center for the tiny, injured birds, and explains that while the smallest birds in the world are sweet, they are also fierce. Hummingbirds can flap their wings 50 times a second and fly vertically, backward and upside-down, but they will also fight to the death in nature.
Director Sally Aitken’s informative and irresistible documentary, “Every Little Thing,” chronicles the spring and summer hummingbird season of 2022 as Masear practices her unique brand of catch, rehabilitate and release. The film is both inspiring and beautiful. Visually, Aitken captures the hummingbirds in slow motion as well as in real-time as the injured ones try to jump from perch to perch as part of their physical therapy. Aitken also captures the emotional work as Masear uses her skills to save an injured bird, like Sugar Baby, whose wings are deteriorating because of human abuse.
The lessons the hummingbirds impart on Masear about struggle, death and success teach us humans about patience, hope and compassion. And Masear’s kindness — she is, after all, a volunteer — is an act of greatness.
While Masear’s efforts are heroic, the hummingbirds are the real stars of “Every Little Thing” as Jimmy, Cactus, Raisin, Mikhail and Alexa will steal viewers’ hearts with their grace and glory.
Aitken spoke with Salon about making her documentary, and what she learned about hummingbirds.
What prompted you to make a documentary about Terry’s life and work?
I pretty much think there are stories wherever you look. I can get excited about a paper bag [Laughs]. Initially, I was sent a review of Terry’s book and I thought, that’s unusual — how quirky, how curious! There’s a dedicated hotline for hummingbirds, really? What happened was, after I read the book and after we engaged with Terry, Bettina — the producer — and Terry connected over some shared trauma. Suddenly [we had] this opportunity to make a film about healing and resilience through trauma and finding our way back to ourselves.
A woman came up to me at a screening and she had a beautiful tattoo on her forearm. She started to tell her story that she believes hummingbirds are messengers to remind us of the resilience we have within us. She perfectly encapsulated the film.
There are some fun facts sprinkled throughout “Every Little Thing,” such as that the hummingbirds decorate their nests with paint chips from houses, or that love between species is unlikely. You did not know much about hummingbirds prior to making the film. What did you learn and how did it impact you?
“If we allow it, we can be taught all sorts of things by all manner of life’s cornucopia of beauty and strangeness.”
I learned that there is such power in small things. My algorithm on Instagram is full of insects and attention-seeking — notice the small things. It was a beautiful experience making this film. I actually really didn’t know that we were going to pull it off. On the surface, it’s not exactly the stuff of grand cinema. There’s a woman. She’s alone. She looks after birds. That’s it [Laughs]. But something happened in the making of the film — the ability to really pay attention. That’s a gift in the story. It’s not like the hummingbird says, “Slow down.” They move like an insect and have a figure-8 wing pattern.
The most profound thing I learned making the film was this idea of taking stock and paying attention and that beauty is all around us. I wouldn’t say I’m a bird lover, but I love attention and the idea of witness. If we allow it, we can be taught all sorts of things by all manner of life’s cornucopia of beauty and strangeness. What a lesson there might be in that.
We follow some birds — like Cactus, who has an injured wing — over time and only briefly meet others, like the Wild Boys. What decisions did you make about which case studies to include?
One of the things that was so challenging about the film is that you have to document everything. The calls you get, the finders who bring wounded [birds] in, and the journey of the rehabilitation itself. To whittle it down — I thought about the emotional parallels with our own species, humans. Some birds encapsulated different aspects of our humanity, so unrequited love with Alexa and Mikhail, or Jimmy who belongs in his own sitcom, or Cactus with her precarious journey. There is something in each of these tiny characters’ stories [that makes them] feel like superheroes. Also, it was the way Terry sees them. Hopefully, you start to see the hummingbirds like she sees them. Initially, I thought — surely that bird is going to make it; it doesn’t look that injured. That was the dialogue in my head. Then, as we filmed, my seasoned eye realized that birds are really precarious. Just like us, their lives can be suddenly hit by a disaster not of their own doing, and how to survive that or do you survive that is just as profound as you watch that through a tiny bird’s adventure.
You capture the birds hovering, in flight, trapped in a skylight or doing physical therapy. You have a bird’s-eye view in some scenes. Can you talk about approaching the film visually? There are observational scenes as well as hummingbird porn moments.
One of the most compelling aspects of this story for me was the visual opportunity. I was completely enamored with the idea of this tiny bird set against Los Angeles, this giant metropolis. I’ve never seen a film seen through this lens. The microscopic against the macro. How amazing we can be up close and then have soaring aerials using the drone and effectively use a snap cut. One thing I workshopped was this idea, “How do we enter the hummingbird world in this otherworldly way?” If we are up close, we can use macro lenses and can slow things down, that could be a very special effect. We found Ann Johnson Prum, who is a specialist wildlife cinematographer with a particular experience
“I became a real bird nerd!”
filming hummingbirds, along with two other cinematographers, Dan Freene and Nathan Barlow, both of whom are Australian. For all of us who do not live in the U.S., it was extraordinary to see the hummingbirds because they are so magical. We looked at a combination of different lenses but all the slow-motion beautiful shots of the graceful flight of the hummingbirds was Ann’s photography. Tania Nehme, the editor, honored that by not cutting it fast and finding the right balance between being in a moment that was so slow but not stationary. We mixed the frame rates a little bit. Because the birds hover, it meant if they were in the right focal length we would be able to capture their gorgeous iridescent gorget, which is what their throat feathers are called; gorget is the name of the area of the bird. I became a real bird nerd! The feathers are not actually blue or green. They have an iridescent quality. If the bird turns their head in one direction, it will look one color, and if they turn it in the other direction, it will look the other color. It’s pretty amazing. The filming was a combination of those cameras and lenses and classic observational filming where we have no idea what is about to happen next.
Terry is knowledgeable about the birds and the situations she encounters and is realistic about the life expectancy of the birds she treats. Where did she come to learn about hummingbirds and devote her life to them?
She will say, and I believe it to be true, that the hummingbirds found her. It requires an extraordinary person to do what she does. It’s not like she woke up one morning and thought, “I am going to be a hummingbird rehabilitator.” She always loved animals and grew up in the Midwest and was very involved in nature. It is an amazing story that was too big for the film, of firsthand knowledge that has been passed down in a matrilineal way. Terry learned from another woman, Jean, who herself learned from another woman, Helen, going back 50 years. The wooden cages come from Helen, the hummingbird rehabilitator “grandmother.” It’s all in a way self-taught, but Terry was mentored by Jean.
Another thing I could not get in the film is that Terry has cats. She keeps them indoors and is particular about cat ownership. Many years ago, her cat had escaped and came back with a hummingbird nestling. Terry phoned around to find a vet and couldn’t and eventually found Jean who managed to save the bird. Then, a year to the day later, a hummingbird had nested outside Terry’s house, and it washed out in a storm, and Terry called Jean again, and Jean said to Terry, “Will you help me?” So, Terry says the hummingbirds found her via the cat.
Terry is a volunteer, yes? How does she support her rescue/rehab center?
If people feel like making donations, she will take them to afford the equipment and food. But she is entirely volunteer.
You show how Terry’s life mirrors the birds in a sense — that she suffered trauma, found love and developed the ability to fly on her own. Can you talk about telling her story alongside the birds she cares for?
In her book, she only deals with her life as a rehabber. She doesn’t tell her personal story. I didn’t know any of that going into the film. We developed an intense relationship built on trust and faith and goodwill and shared sense of adventure. Terry just came out with [her trauma] one day and I realized it all made sense to me that there was this underlying ability to empathize with the birds because she had come from a chaotic and traumatic start.
One of the things I appreciate most about the film was Terry’s remark about our attitudes towards nature illustrating a lack of respect. Can you talk about this idea and how hummingbirds teach us life lessons on empathy?
So many people have this incredibly emotional reaction to the film. I think it is because the film reminds us of kindness. It’s really simple and we all have the ability to do it, and we never see it writ large. The idea that what we are seeing in this film is our own humanity reflected back to us, it’s such a profound thing. When you see our ability to care and nurture and be kind and careful and attentive and all these things that we just never scream loudly. That is the balm to so much of the chaos and the difficulty of war and greed and all of these things that become our daily messages. When you see a film like this and are reminded that this is a small part of the human experience and that there is a much grander story to tell, that is profound.
Terry says that Jimmy was “born for the camera.” What bird in the film did you bond with?
I always said from the beginning that I loved Jimmy because of this comic personality he has. But of course, how could you not bond with and cheer for Cactus? But I love all the birds for different reasons.
“Every Little Thing” opens January 10 in New York City and January 17 in Los Angeles, with national rollout to follow.
