Hello Friends,
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Michael Keaton in his most excellent performance since he was Batman. I’m not sure how much I’ve seen him perform since he was Batman, but IMdB says he’s done a lot of things, so I believe it. Because everything you read on the internet is true. Obviously.
Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) is a beautiful film co-written, directed, and produced by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. Nominated for nine Academy Awards, it stars Michael Keaton, Zach Galifianakis, Edward Norton, Andrea Riseborough, Amy Ryan, Emma Stone, and Naomi Watts. In the film, Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) is a Hollywood actor made famous for playing superhero Birdman in big, blockbuster movies in days gone by. Riggan tries to reinvent his career by writing, directing, and starring in a Broadway play adaptation of Raymond Carver’s story What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. During rehearsals, a light fixture falls on one of the actors, who everyone agrees is terrible. They search high and low to find someone to replace Ralph, and they end up casting brilliant (and possibly insane) method actor Mike (Edward Norton), and agree to pay him 3-4x the amount they were paying the other actor in order to get him in. Despite Mike’s arrival, the first previews are absolutely terrible. Mike is really talented, but also allows his psycho actor self to get in the way of making quality art. He flirts with Riggan’s daughter Sam (Emma Stone), who is a recovering addict, and attempts to forcefully sleep with (aka rape) Lesley, his girlfriend (Naomi Watts) on stage during a sex scene, simply because he’s “in the moment.” Riggan becomes the unsuspecting object of internet fame when he locks himself out of the theatre right before the last scene, and has to walk through Times Square in his underwear in order to get on stage. A very important critic, Tabitha Dickinson, tells him she hates celebrities who pretend to be actors, and that she’s going to kill his play, regardless of how good it actually may be. Everything is so terrible that on opening night, Riggan uses a real gun in the final scene where his onstage character kills himself, and ends up shooting off his own nose. In the hospital, he finds out that Tabitha has given the play a rave review, and that the play is going to run forever.
The acting in this film is, without question, entirely superb. Keaton, Norton, and Stone all earned Best Actor/Supporting nominations for their work on Birdman, and they all deserve to win. Best Actor, especially, is going to be an incredibly tight race. Keaton is the perfect amount of insane, self-absorbed, and desperate. There’s such a fine line between madness and genius, and he toes that line constantly, teetering on the precipice. We watch as Riggan struggles to hold it together, constantly asking himself if he’s influential or just stupid. When he finally gets to the place where he can accept that his genius will go unseen, he gets a rave review for the most “Hollywood stunt” of all. I have to say, however, that Edward Norton’s manic Mike steals the show. He is laugh-out-loud hilarious as that actor we all knew. Really. He’s the stereotype of why people think artists are complete weirdos. He’s method, and bills and expensive sun bed to the studio because he needs it for his character. He drinks actual gin on stage, and freaks out mid preview because stage management has taken the liquor away. He says really stupid things like, “this is our time to figure out what this is,” and probably uses words like “kinesthetic”, “organic”, and “true” during rehearsal. He’s an asshat, and gets in the way of his own tortured genius. Emma Stone is also a delight, as Riggan’s daughter Sam Thomson. She has stepped out of her own box on this production. No longer do we see her as the bright, peppy high schooler from The Amazing Spider-Man, or even the bright, peppy family girl from Crazy, Stupid, Love. Here, she is edgy, tormented, frustrated, and predictable in a really stupid way. Two of the most beautiful monologues in the film come from her lips. She’s the breath of realism needed in this tortured actor world everyone else is living in. Hers is the voice of reason.
There are a thousand and one theatrical devices that make this movie brilliant, and the use of Keaton’s alter-ego Birdman is one of them. In the film, we hear the voice inside Riggan’s head, the voice of Birdman, who is only capable of criticizing and mocking everything and everyone around him. He is angry, and crass, and can’t quite be shut out. This voice comes with superpowers! Yes, it’s true. Birdman can levitate, and has telekinesis (can move things with his mind), and we see him fighting to keep the true magic inside, or contain it when no one is looking. Is he insane, or is this simply truth in the world of the play/film? Does Riggan’s actually have gifts? Is this why he played Birdman with such acclaim so many years ago? When we finally see the interaction between Riggan and Birdman, it’s breathtaking. Suddenly, the camera goes wide, as though he’s been just off-screen this whole time and either everyone could see him, or no one could. Real, or not real? We watch Riggan fly to the St. James theatre for opening night…is he flying? Can anyone else see him flying? The film ending suggests both yes and no.
Another one of the many perfect aspects of this film is the drummer. There is a drummer who provides underscoring to most of the movie. It’s such a theatre thing to have included. Like Birdman, we don’t see the drummer in the next room until the end of the film. It’s clear he is real to Riggan, and because of that he’s real for us. In this world, emotional moments, moments of tension, include underscoring. And who hasn’t considered their entrance music, seriously? (If you haven’t, take a moment. What song would play when you entered the room? You only get one, so choose wisely.) The drumming provides a rhythm to the scenes, a way of understanding the film that you wouldn’t have had otherwise.
The camera work in this film is completely insane. It’s all incredibly close and intimate, possibly handheld for much of it, which brings you right into the scenes with all of the actors. My very first thought while watching the opening sequence was, “this feels like a play!” (This was when I had no idea what the movie would be about.) The original goal was to do the entire film in one long shot. Now I don’t know how this would work, exactly, since the tech of film isn’t my forte, but all of the scenes were expertly choreographed and timed to the last second. There are no “blackouts”, there are no cuts to some other location. This gives the film the feeling that you’re watching one long moment, one extended experience that’s happening right now, and if you look away for a second, you’ll miss whatever is happening right now. It has the immediacy of the theatre. Everything that is put out there is out, without any take backs, or re-do’s. It’s as live as you can get while still being on camera.
Birdman is a love letter to all theatre actors everywhere. If you’ve ever been involved with the theatre, in any aspect, I beg you to see this film. You will love it from beginning to end.
Most of the people I’ve chatted with completely hated the film, saying that they didn’t get it, or that it didn’t make sense. I myself was laughing out loud at moments when the entire theater was silent, simply because I felt like the movie was making fun of everything I’ve ever experienced as a performer. For example, when Norton’s character Mike throws a fit on stage when he realizes stage management has replaced his real gin with water. What actor doesn’t understand or connect with that ritual, item, costume piece, etc. that just has to be in place for you to feel like you can create your best work. Or Tabitha Dickinson, the self-absorbed, snobbish critic who doesn’t like film actors taking up space in her town when they could be casting actual starving artists. Hah! I take her point of view every time another inane movie musical is made starring Russell Crowe, or Pierce Brosnan, or some other actor that doesn’t really sing. We’ve all been Tabitha. This is a movie for artists, by artists, and about artists. The FUBU of the 21st century, if you will. It’s glorious, and I don’t know if it will take Best Picture, but it certainly deserves to. For me, it’s between Birdman and Whiplash. We’ll find out as we watch tomorrow night!
Live, Love, Learn,
Rebecca &