Birdman: Or (the
Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance), starring Michael Keaton is a palpably felt
exploration of drama as a function of existential crisis. It also explores the vanishing seams of art
and the culture in which it is situated prompting to the viewer to ponder where
one stops and the other begins. The
relationship of criticism to art is also explored.
Birdman features an aging protagonist, Riggan Thompson
(Michael Keaton) who is perhaps slightly beyond middle-age and who is
desperately struggling to find integrity and truth through art with his
Broadway stage adaptation of Raymond Carver’s short story, “What We Talk About,
When We Talk About Love.” He is also the
father to a somewhat broken daughter, Sam (Emma Stone), a twenty-something who
is in recovery from drug addiction and with whom his relationship is somewhat
strained.
Amidst the (perhaps conspicuously serendipitous—as no love is to be lost due to his absence) injury to one of Thompson’s actors, a
replacement actor, Mike (Edward Norton), is brought on. Mike’s reputation
precedes him in more ways than one as critics celebrate him nearly universally
yet those who have had to share a stage with him lament him almost as much for
being notoriously difficult to work with. Acting alongside Mike are Thompson’s
girlfriend (Andrea Riseborough) as well as an aspiring Broadway actress, Lesley
(Naomi Watts) who is making her Broadway debut and who shares romantic as well
as professional ties with Mike. Off-stage,
in addition to his cast-mates and at-times-less-than-amicable daughter, Thompson
is joined by his friend and lawyer, Jake (Zack Gallifinakis) who is producing
the play and as such has a vested interest in how many seats are filled each
night and in some cases, by whom, given the publicity certain audience-goers
will bring to the event (or simply the way their perceived attendance—whether
in fact actual or not—will help to sustain Thompson’s morale--at one point Thompson is even teased, with the convenient name-drop of the “Scorcez” [as it is glibly and
smugly pronounced through a confident lean back and teeth that are clenched in
a type of Cheshire grin]).
Riggan Thompson also must struggle against the negatively
predisposed critical response set forth in somewhat ad hominem fashion because of his previous celebrity having been derived from playing “Birdman”—a high-flying comic book superhero who
seems to embody the plebian blockbuster sensibility so firmly eschewed by the
critical elite. In particular, Thompson must weather the a priori critical scorn of a prominent reviewer for the New York Times who
seems to react to Thompson’s play and its surrounding hoopla as more the spectacle
of a has-been actor, in his post-fame throes than as a legitimate work of art
wrought from a place of passion and integrity.
The sound design and camerawork of this picture are
technical marvels as the film’s first forty-five-or-so minutes appear as one
continuous take and are complimented by a superbly crafted blend of diegetic
and non-diegetic sound. At certain
points a frenetic percussive beat seems to be laid upon the film’s world as it
would seem to have no reasonable origin in the action that is unfolding
on-screen and yet in the next moment is revealed to have boomingly emanated
from a marching band that just happens to be passing through Times square,
justifying, then, these sounds that the audience member is hearing as belonging
squarely to the reality of the film’s world.
The remarkable fluidity of the film’s more sensorial elements gives the
audience member pause to contemplate whether art imitates life, life imitates
art or even if the two might deceptively belong to one and the same side of a proverbial
Mobius strip in spite of their seeming convergence to an edge as themselves disparate
surfaces.
In addition to exploring the “about”-ness of art, as it
might pertain to life, the “about”-ness of criticism as it might pertain to art
is also plumbed throughout. Tucked away
in the corner of Thompson’s mirror is an index card upon which is plainly
written the proverb, “A thing is a thing, not what is said about that thing.” This sentiment echoes throughout many of the
film’s sequences as the effects of “labeling” (as Thompson at one point
disgustedly puts it) art and what that might reveal about the character of said
“labeler” are weaved unabashedly into the content of several of the story’s
relationships as well as the substance of character for its principal as well
as supporting acts.
As the complex and pathos-evoking lead character in this
intimately woven and darkly comic drama, Keaton gives an extraordinary
performance that leaves him well-deserving of the Academy’s nod for “Best Actor” as well as for his past
recognition at this year’s Golden Globes for “Best Actor in a Drama, Comedy or
Musical.” Birdman
also comes recommended on the aspects of its thoughtfully provocative content and uniquely compelling--as
well as technically astonishing--presentation.