Perhaps the most revelatory film I’ve seen all year is Alejandro Gonzáles Iñárritu’s Birdman, Or, the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance. From the very beginning, this is a virtuoso display of camerawork, editing, acting and directing. It is structured as if it were filmed in one take, with almost no transition allowance for time jumps, boasting fluid camerawork that follows characters around New York City — mainly through the narrow, labyrinthine hallways of the St. James theater. It reminds some people of Hitchcock’s Rope, but it’s more modern than that; it reminds me of a Brian de Palma version of All About Eve, but on steroids.
Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) hasn’t had a hit film since 1992, and he has staked his reputation (and money) on the line starring, writing and directing in a Broadway version of a Raymond Carver novel. The film covers the final couple of weeks before the play is to open and details a myriad of issues Riggan faces, from changing one of the leads to trying to keep his daughter (Emma Stone) away from the influences that landed her in rehab. Through it all he battles his alter ego, Birdman, the side of his personality which enjoyed being a superhero movie star (and not very subtly based on Keaton’s Batman persona).
The theatre material is simply outstanding; Riggan is rapidly losing his mind trying to control a runaway production. When the new actor (Edward Norton) arrives, the film gains even greater dimension. Everyone in this world shines brightly — Naomi Watts, Andrea Riseborough, Zach Galifianakis, Stone, Norton and Keaton are all standouts. The sequence with Riggan returning to the theater dressed only in his underwear is sensational. Other scenes are nearly as potent, and the film is always compelling and engaging. But it isn’t perfect.
Two aspects do bother me somewhat. The first is of little consequence, odd though it may be. The film really slaps Hollywood right in the face, with Birdman‘s obvious parallels to Batman (the Birdman action film concept isn’t brought to light until well into the story, and when it is shown, it’s patently ridiculous) and Michael Keaton’s own career path to some degree reflects Riggan’s reality. I just wonder how film people, especially executives, will feel about such a negative viewpoint. The second aspect is more troublesome for me; it involves Riggan’s preternatural powers. The story indicates that Riggan has talents in reserve; being very literal, I just don’t know how to react to them, especially at the ending. I’m not comfortable with it at all.
Everything else works beautifully, and if I have a hard time with the supernatural stuff, I guess that’s just my problem. Iñárritu’s film is marvelous, whether one is looking for a dynamic character study, a vitriolic Broadway exposé, an affectionate glimpse at the City That Never Sleeps or even a parody of how seriously actors feel about their profession. And this is one of those movies that begs for repeat viewings. I’ll be sure to see it again as the awards season gets into swing, because it will surely be in the running for many of them. ☆ ☆ ☆ 1/2. 5 December 2014.