Birdman delivers the illusion of one long, mostly unbroken take, the camera floating freely in the small, confined theater where actor Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton), who is best known for playing the superhero Birdman years ago, is preparing for the opening night of the play he’s written, directing, and starring in. It is an adaptation of Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. They are in previews, and this when Riggan realizes that his co-lead is completely wrong for the part. Luckily, he quickly finds a replacement in veteran actor Mike Shriner (Edward Norton). The actor is beloved on Broadway, and is respected by critics. Riggan seems to be lucky to get him, but Mike proves to be a contributor to Riggan’s impending nervous breakdown.
Technically, it’s all very impressive. With its single-take aesthetic, Birdman apes some of the aesthetics of theater without abandoning the strengths of cinema. It creates a claustrophobic environment that gives life to the many conversations that ensue in the film, the technique suggesting a continuity of emotion that leaves no boundaries between the personal and the artistic. Whatever turmoil Riggan encounters backstage is carried straight through to the stage, the camera never making a distinction between the Riggan behind the curtain and the one in front of it.
It is exhilarating at times, and exhausting in others. Director Alexander Gonzalez Iñarittu tends to overplay his hand a little bit, stretching into overindulgence as the film comes to make its many, many statements. It starts to feel rudderless at points, the characters throwing punches at all manner of targets: the film industry as a whole, superhero movies, the theater, the art establishment, critics, method actors, Internet culture, fans, lawyers, and whatever else. It creates straw men to deliver arguments that don’t seem to have much basis in reality. The film comes to offer little to root for, leaving a strange, smug taste through the popcorn fizz of the story.
But while the film does end up feeling weirdly bitter about the world at large, it does manage to make that bitterness entertaining. It helps that the film will occasionally dip its toe into the surreal, reflecting the unstable mindset of its main character through sequences that defy the very laws of physics. And even when the film stalls through its clunkier moments, it never looks anything less than beautiful. Emmanuel Lubezki is simply one of the best cinematographers working today, and his incredible control over light uplifts every single frame of this movie.
And then there is Michael Keaton, who simply commands the screen every second that he’s on it. It is interesting enough that Keaton is playing a character clearly based somewhat on his career. His overt strangeness, his willingness to embrace the odd takes his performance to another level. Keaton is simply magnetic, and the vulnerability he shows in the performance goes a long way in making an unlikable character relatable. The supporting cast is terrific as well. Naomi Watts doesn’t waste a minute of her screen time. Edward Norton brings all sorts of intensity to what could have been a joke character. And here, Emma Stone steps up to the big leagues.
Separated from its technique, Birdman feels a little empty. It feels like undirected hate, an artist lashing out at a world he doesn’t understand. In its lowest moments, it seems to be shaming people for liking things, and that just isn’t a worldview that’s worth supporting. But one cannot deny the bravura filmmaking and the excellent performances. It is craft that is still worth seeking out, even though the core of the movie does seem a little rotten.
My Rating:
