“A thing is a thing, not what is said of that thing.” That’s a message on a postcard displayed on the dressing room mirror of Riggan Thompson (Michael Keaton) in BIRDMAN or (THE UNEXPECTED VIRTUE OF IGNORANCE). With that phrase in mind, I feel it’s best to simply say, “Go see the movie. Then we can talk about it.” I could leave this review at that considering the film brings into question the role of the critic when an actor, director, or artist puts their heart and soul on the line for his or her art. But just plainly urging you to see the movie is also counter-productive when there is so much love, effort, and ideas pulsating from this work of art. And it is just that. BIRDMAN is a work of art. Don’t take my word for it though, go and see it for yourself. In the meantime, indulge me –even if I am a critic – as I examine some of the deeper meanings behind this film and try to wrap my head around what this “thing” is really about.
Riggan Thompson is attempting to redefine his career through a new Broadway play that he is directing, adapting, and starring in. Years ago he rose to fame after playing a masked superhero named Birdman in a series of films. Since abandoning the series after three films Riggan has fallen on hard times both professionally and in his personal life. Even with the help of Riggan’s manager Jake (a low-key departure for Zach Galifianikis) and a talented crew of Broadway veterans (Edward Norton) and newbies (Naomi Watts), the play begins to run into consecutive problems leading up to its opening night. Adding to the stress, Riggan’s sanity comes into question as he drifts in and out of reality as he sometimes hears the voice of his masked alter ego that he played on-screen many years ago.
BIRDMAN is an incredibly ambitious meta experiment from director Alejandro González Iñárritu that pays off. The complicated camera-work that maneuvers around actors and between scenes is the first and most prominent feature that many will take notice of. That’s certainly not me undermining the expertly choreographed cinematography. It’s a stunning feat to say the least without feeling like a gimmick. In fact, the “single-take” approach works in unison with the hot jazz percussion score that is weaved into several scenes – quite literally actually since the drummer is shown at his kit twice – to form something that more closely resembles a long free-form poem that you might have heard Allen Ginsberg recite in a smoky club in the late 1950’s. The film is presented as a work of art while deconstructing what it means to be a working artist. It’s a huge undertaking to attempt to tell such a story, but Iñárritu handles the challenge with the same ease and energy as GRAVITY cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki lends to the film. BIRDMAN presents the mind of an artist as always racing and at odds with itself. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise if your mind will continue to buzz and hum with the ideas and situations long after this rich and complicated film comes to a close.
The entire cast plays off of the technical energy of the film perfectly and conveys the weight of the material in an acute manner. Edward Norton should come as no surprise to film fans. His presence has always been felt no matter how small of a role he is given. Here is no different. At times he gives the character of Mike a cocky smugness, but then will just as easily follow it up with a scene of brutal vulnerability opposite Riggan’s daughter Sam (Emma Stone) on the theater’s rooftop. A scene early on where he confronts a newspaper critic in a bar practically encouraged me to stand up and applaud in the theater. Of course the loudest praise should go to Michael Keaton. His intensity and multilayered performance will surprise many given his absence from films of this nature as of late. What should come as no surprise though is the amount of awards and honors he will most likely receive come the end of the year.
At some point I began to feel that I wasn’t watching a film starring Michael Keaton… I was watching a film about the world in which Michael Keaton is living in 2014. Questions of identity and art imitating life (and vice versa) are integral to the concept Alejandro González Iñárritu is playing with, but even more so is the intent to present a question for the audience: can we ever look at Michael Keaton and not see Batman? Now more than ever the “superhero” genre or the comic-book film (a term I hate due to its insular look at the medium) makes up a large chunk of our entertainment on television and at the cinema. Just in the past three years, there are now three superhero films in the top ten highest grossing films of all time (THE AVENGERS, THE DARK KNIGHT RISES, and IRON MAN 3). BIRDMAN could not have come at a more culturally relevant time. When headlines on national television as well as media bogs focus on whether Ben Affleck will be a suitable Batman or not, you know we are living in a time when the “hero” has gone past being celebrated and has moved into the territory of obsession. People have always connected with Batman and other comic-book heroes due to the ideals they stand for and are willing to defend. What happens though when the hero chooses to abandon the cape and mask and we refuse to accept that? We as impassioned fans are often so fickle that we can turn on the hero in a second. As they explained in Christopher Nolan’s THE DARK KNIGHT, “You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” In the case of BIRDMAN, I think Iñárritu is asking us if we can ever look at Michael Keaton as the man and not think of him as the masked man. Even more so, if we cannot, does Keaton become a villain in our eyes because he chooses not to be the hero behind the mask?
Guilt becomes a recurring theme in the film. Aside from not giving into public demand by portraying Birdman in a fourth film, Riggan is compelled to make good for his past failures and sees this play as a solution. Though his confidence in the Broadway show comes and goes as the clock ticks away to the curtain rising, it’s still his current artistic expression, which as an artist, it is all you think about. This play is a form of therapy for Riggan to confront his mistakes while simultaneously hoping that it just might be the start of a new life for him. It can be hard for an artist not to get sucked into a tunnel and only think about his or her self. Keaton portrays this inner struggle between his “real” problems and artistic problems to great effect. BIRDMAN shows us how these worlds often collide. No matter how much pain he may have caused by his past mistakes (being an unsupportive father, a cheating husband, etc.), the guilt he now feels, in a sick sort of way, only fuels his desire to succeed all the more. Both Keaton’s and Norton’s character discover that sometimes it’s hard to abandon your real world filled with real problems when you walk out onto the stage.
This is really only a fraction of what is going on in this deep and intelligent film. BIRDMAN is such a complex look at the artistic process that it’s hard to even put into words all that it encompasses. So much of the film is meant to be felt and interrupted by the audience instead of fully spelled out or beaten over our head. Fantastical imagery such as the opening scene where we see Riggan meditating in midair in his dressing room or later when he flings items across the room proves that Riggan doesn’t entirely want to abandon the superhero role since it brought him fame and fortune, but it also serves as a metaphor for how we perceive ourselves versus how the outside world views us.
Much like Keaton’s character, BIRDMAN feels like it’s on the brink of falling apart. Between all the players involved, the many themes at work, and the long breathtaking camera shots, I constantly found myself holding my breath, hoping that all of the pieces didn’t come crashing down. There’s an organized chaos to this darkly comic affair that Iñárritu has carefully assembled. Like the work of action painter Jackson Pollock, there’s so much movement and emotion that makes up this composition – the grand performance that is life – that you can’t help but stare in awe at the majesty of this triumphant and artistic masterpiece.
Overall score: 5 out of 5
BIRDMAN or (THE UNEXPECTED VIRTUE OF IGNORANCE) is now playing in select cities and is showing exclusively in St. Louis at The Tivoli and Plaza Frontenac Theatre.
