On Sunday February 22nd, the 87th Oscars played out. While some people may have given up on the ceremony (and I can definitely understand why), there is no denying that it is still a big deal in Hollywood. By the end of this year's show, Birdman (Or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) flew away with the big prize for Best Picture, as well as those for Best Director, Best Original Screenplay and Best Cinematography. But did it deserve them? Let's find out.
Actor Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) used to have it all. As the heroic, all-powerful Birdman, he was beloved by millions around the world. But when he refused to return to that franchise after the third instalment, Riggan started to descend into obscurity. 22 years on, Riggan is trying to make a comeback on stage by adapting, directing and starring in Raymond Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, but things are quickly going awry. Main actor Ralph (Jeremy Stamos) is involved in an accident, the apparent godsend of a replacement in the form of popular stage actor Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) turns ugly when Mike's ego is part of the package and Riggan is haunted by his inadequacies as a family man through the presence of his daughter/assistant Sam (Emma Stone) and his ex Sylvia (Amy Ryan), as well as the nagging voice and personality of his superhero alter ego, which continues to define him in both his own eyes and those of almost everyone around him for better or worse. Can Riggan pull off the comeback he so desperately wants, or will he be remembered for nothing more than being the guy inside a superhero outfit?
Let's talk about the man of the hour: Michael Keaton. Watching his performance here and looking back at his career indicates that director Alejandro González Iñárritu and his co-writing team of Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris and Armando Bo always had Keaton in mind for the part of Rigan Thomson. Riggan finished playing Birdman in 1992, which was the last year Keaton played Batman (in Tim Burton's Batman Returns). Much like Batman for Keaton, the role of Birdman is what defines Riggan and makes him beloved and revered by many people. And much like Riggan's work after Birdman, nothing Keaton did after Batman Returns has achieved nearly the same level of public admiration and/or recognition. For example, when I was growing up, the role I most associated Keaton with was the titular character in 1998's Jack Frost. I used to like that film, but now I agree with people who deem it a bit rubbish. My point is that, when I finally got around to watching Keaton's performances in the Tim Burton Batman films, I learned that I was wrong to associate him with just one role. In the years since he said goodbye to Batman, Keaton has done strong work in films including 1993's Much Ado About Nothing, 1996's Multiplicity, 1997's Jackie Brown and the 2010 duo of Toy Story 3 and The Other Guys. But all of these performances have been haunted by the shadow of Batman much like Riggan's career post-Birdman has been literally haunted by that character, making Rigan's bitterness and determination to achieve another noteworthy accomplishment to set that defining role aside feel less like a cinematic fabrication and more like an extension of Keaton himself. Like Riggan, Keaton sees the role here as a chance to re-ignite his career, and grabs it with both hands before running with it like mad. This is the best performance I have seen from Keaton thus far. There is great comedic material right in Keaton's wheelhouse which he knocks out of the park (an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction comes to mind), but Keaton is also a powerhouse when Riggan's alternately and sympathetic traits come to the fore. As we learn and see more of Riggan's interactions with the other characters, it becomes clear that his self-pity about the state of his career often results in some vicious behaviour; Sylvia's reasons for leaving Riggan, in particular, emphasises just how despicably self-centred Riggan can be. However, in spite of this, Keaton's performance has such downtrodden and angrily desperate moments that it's hard not to feel sympathy for him. While that aforementioned wardrobe malfunction is very funny, some comments cut close to the bone and indicate just how shallow and casually cruel the public (even those who proclaim to be fans) can be. And towards the end of the film, Keaton is genuinely heart-breaking. I can't think of anything else to say about Keaton's tremendous work other than to say that it's deserving of nearly all of the superlatives that it's been given. This is a career re-defining role for the man who couldn't escape the shadow of the Caped Crusader, and I hope that Birdman gets him the noteworthy, powerful roles he deserves.
While Keaton is undeniably the big star, one of the best parts of Birdman is that none of the other prominent characters are left wanting. All of them are given stories and personalities to define them, which give the actors more room to excel. And excel they do, with many delivering some of the best work of their careers. Edward Norton is sensational as the egotistically committed Mike Shiner, who threatens to override the production with his almost blind dedication to the 'truth' of the performance, much to Riggan's chagrin. The resulting tension between Riggan and Mike is phenomenally played by Keaton and Norton. Much like the role of Riggan for Keaton, there are some parallels between the role of Mike and Norton himself. Norton has a lot of fun exaggerating up the intensity he's often known for as Mike's volatility bubbles to the surface and he takes his dedication to characters to often bizarre extremes. Also like Keaton, Norton played a superhero; that was in 2008's The Incredible Hulk. However, unlike Keaton, Norton wasn't really defined by his superhero stint and abandoned all Hulk commitments due to the clashes between him and Marvel Studios. Shades of that conflict can arguably be found in the relationship between Mike and Riggan; Mike is dedicated to artistic integrity (one of Norton's key arguments with Marvel Studios was that they interfered with the vision shared by him and The Incredible Hulk director Louis Leterrier), while Riggan's defining role of Birdman marks him as an example of the mainstream culture which Mike, along with New York Times critic Tabitha Dickinson (Lindsey Duncan) views with great disdain. However, while Mike initially comes across as too invested in his work (his first clash with Riggan comes out of nowhere), Norton still wills us to stick with the character through his detached charisma while slowly but surely unravelling Mike's character to show why he 'acts' the way he does. Most of this takes place in the scenes between him and Emma Stone's Sam. The chemistry between these two characters is deliciously snarky yet laced with an underlying tenderness, much like Sam herself. Stone is fantastic in perhaps the best performance of her career thus far as a young woman striving to recover from damage inflicted by both herself and by Riggan as a poor father. I'm a huge fan of Stone, but I'm still impressed with how well she stands her ground against the incendiary work from Keaton and Norton. She is never short of captivating, and her scenes with Keaton are compelling through the battling emotions of bitterness over the past, regret over mistakes made and the slim hope for a brighter future between father and daughter. Riggan's mistakes as Sam's father darkn his views of potential parenthood with sort-of girlfriend Laura (Andrea Riseborough). Riseborough is wonderful in this part, crafting an alluring portrait of a woman longing for affection from Riggan and unsure where she'll get it, if ever. Sylvia's occasional appearances serve as a painful reminder of Riggan's past 'affection'. Amy Ryan is superb as a woman who still cares for Riggan but is wary of getting too close. These scenes between Riggan and Sylvia provide a great deal of emotional heat, with one latter scene in particular hitting a raw and painful nerve. Speaking of nerves, Broadway newcomer Lesley (Naomi Watts) is trying not to let her get the best of her, which isn't helped by the presence of the often confrontational Mike. Watts is rarely anything less than spell-binding (although 2013's Diana would have to be an exception), and her performance here doesn't disappoint. She is excellent as a woman who has worked hard to reach this position and is now terrified of losing it. That sense of terror extends to Riggan's best friend and manager, as well as the show's producer, Jake (Zach Galifianakis), who feels a great deal of menace in making a play a success. Galifianakis, probably best well-known as the dim-witted Alan from The Hangover film series, delivers the strongest work I've seen from him thus far. While there are comedic moments which the actor tackles with ease, he also stands his dramatic ground with everyone else in the cast; he shares great chemistry with Keaton, in particular. Finally, we have Tabitha Dickinson, a critic who has devious plans for Riggan's play. Lindsey Duncan is unforgettably vicious in this small role, and a confrontational scene between her and Keaton is one of the best moments in the film; this scene emphasises how the bitter thoughts of one prominent figure can ruin all of the hard work and money put into a project by those putting the project together, and how a critic's thoughts may be based more on their prejudices than their actual thoughts on what they're reviewing.
While the performances are truly sensational, a review can't be written for Birdman with acknowledging its technical credits. The film's main stylistic trait is that, with only a few exceptions, it is presented as if it was captured in just one shot. While some could accuse this of being pretentious, I personally found this intriguing and wonderfully fitting. Birdman tracks and documents these characters and their situations with such fluidity that the film almost appears to be a live play, albeit with a lot more freedom to play around. Immense credit has to go to cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezski; his camera-work is truly glorious and occasionally awe-inspiring to behold, and means that if you become invested in the story, you will likely never lose interest. It's an incredibly impressive achievement, and in giving even more praise to the actors, the performances show a true commitment which comes with this trying process. Usually, if you slip up on a single take or deliver a false line, you can go back and do it again, Here, because the whole film is presently as mostly being done in a single take, one slip-up or false reaction could be fatal. This makes the fact that there are no wrong notes in any of the performances on display even more impressive. Also almost constantly present is the drum score by Antonio Sanchez, who infrequently pops up playing the drums in person. This is an off-kilter musical choice, but it works for the film, giving the proceedings a propulsive underlying energy. The excellent sound work in the film deserves definite credit for the powerful emphasis of Sanchez's drum score and scenes with different sources of sound which all come across with great clarity (the scene with Riggan's wardrobe problem is the best example of this).
Finally, it's important to discuss the direction of Alejandro González Iñárritu and the script by Iñárritu, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris and Armando Bo. Alejandro González Iñárritu, despite having worked with stars like Sean Penn and Brad Pitt, has a filmography which is set in firmly anti-Hollywood territory. I haven't seen any of Iñárritu's prior work besides 2003's tremendous 21 Grams, but his straying away from the Hollywood style is clearly evident. With Birdman, Iñárritu and his fellow writers take a stab at Hollywood, particularly the criticism of mainstream cinema (particularly superhero films) and their audiences in refusing to view the actors involved as any different characters. In one terrific scene, Riggan lists off names of genuinely talented real-life actors who could fill the void left by Ralph. However, Jake counters Riggan's suggestions by noting the mainstream commitments which each of those actors have, most of which are to superhero franchises. These are names which the audience will primarily recognise due to these franchises, but anyone who has a knowledge of these actors and their other work know that some of their other, more 'independent' work has just as much right being recognised as their mainstream franchise contributions. I'm pretty sure that Philip Seymour Hoffman's name would have popped up in relation to his role in The Hunger Games if not for his recent sad passing. Another brilliant scene pokes fun at what mainstream audience seem to want from their blockbuster films nowadays (big explosions, over-the-top visual effects etc.) Having sat through the last Transformers film and taking into account the commercial success of that film to the tune of $1 billion plus, I absolutely love the savagery of that scene. The viciously over-the-top nature of that scene is quickly followed by a scene of wonderful, breath-taking transcendence which proves that it would be doing Birdman a disservice to simply call it a comedy (even though it has some truly hilarious moments).
While Birdman is an incredible cinematic achievement, I do have one issue. Towards the film's end, there is a great point where the film could have ended. I won't say when, but anyone who's seen the film should know what point I've talking about. However, the film keeps going unnecessarily for another five-ten minutes. I do understand what they're trying to do and the very ending of the film does provide material for post-cinema debates, but I think that they could have effectively ended the film earlier. But when even the part of the film I have an issue with still provides plenty of material for intelligent discussion about a film's thematic meaning, isn't that great?
Final Verdict
The more I think about Birdman, the more I appreciate it. The more I consider the themes of the film, the more intelligent and relevant yet timeless material I find for discussion. The more I reflect upon the stunning work of the ensemble cast, including currently career-best work from Emma Stone, Zach Galifianakis and an incredible Michael Keaton, the more respect I have for them. Director Alejandro González Iñárritu and his co-writers Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris and Armando Bo, along with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezski, have achieved here is nothing short of breath-taking, something which will be discussed and analysed. While I wish that the film had concluded five to ten minutes earlier, it is a testament to that final stretch that there's still plenty of material to discuss and analyse. Do I think that Birdman should won for Best Picture? Personally, I would have preferred The Grand Budapest Hotel, Boyhood or particularly the incredible Whiplash to take the prize, but that's just me. As a searing attack on mainstream cinema and how people (even those who claim to be outside the Hollywood system) judge and define people by their involvement in mainstream films, and an exploration of man's need to be relevant and beloved by all above everything else, Birdman is a phenomenal cinematic experience. If you don't like it, that's fair enough. But you've got to give it credit that it still gives you plenty to talk about.
Rating: 4.65 out of 5
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