During a key scene in "Birdman: Or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance," Michael Keaton's character, Riggan, a washed up action star trying to make a comeback, gets in a heated discussion with a snobby theater critic. After the critic promises to ruin his new broadway play with a stroke of her pen, Riggan excoriates her profession by asking "what has to happen in someone's life for them to become a critic?" He continues saying that critics risk nothing with their opinions and contrasts the artist's experience of giving their heart and soul to a project and creating something out of nothing. "Birdman" is a truly remarkable film about the creative process and what artists endure to make their creation a reality.
Throughout the film, Riggan is surrounded by different collaborators who constantly bombard him with different perspectives and problems that he needs to face in order to realize his vision. His fellow actors possess their own opinions and nuance of performance; His manager encourages career acumen, that is decisions Riggan has to make in order to realistically keep his status in the film industry; His daughter is the negative voice calling him a has-been; His ex-wife knows the actor as a regular person outside his career and tries to make him a better family man; finally, Riggan has voices in his head representing both insecurity and his momentary triumphs and rise in confidence.
A notable aspect of "Birdman" is the layered acting. Indeed, this was a high level ensemble effort with no one person totally stealing the show. Michael Keaton is great as Riggan because in many ways, he is playing a version of himself. Mirroring Riggan and Birdman, Keaton played Batman in the early nineties and is currently looking for a career renaissance. Ed Norton gives one of the best performances of his career as Mike, the temperamental actor who values absolute artistic integrity over success. Emma Stone, who plays Riggan's daughter, officially elevates herself from teen idol to a great actress. Even Zach Galafinakis shows acting prowess as Riggan's dose of realism, albeit in a comedic fashion.
But the truly amazing aspect of the film is the directing. Alejandro González Iñárritu has invented a new type of film, one that unfolds organically in real time with continuous forward movement. The movie almost looks like one complete, uninterrupted shot with characters coming and going and then reappearing. Technically, there are only 16 cuts in the entire movie, compared to other films which could have hundreds. This style of film is one that I have never seen before, at least since Alfred Hitchcock's "Rope," which also seems like one continuous shot. The style of directing creates a breathtaking intensity which becomes instantly addictive.The soundtrack, which is mostly composed of jazz drumming, perfectly matches the pace and spirit of the film. Just as the complexity of jazz demands attention, so does the movie garner your complete engagement. "Birdman" is certainly a huge technical feat, one that is immediately impressive.
The movie begins with the epitaph from Raymond Carver's gravesite: "And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth." In many ways, "Birdman" is about seeking acceptance and admiration from the rest of the world. Riggan is seeking to regain his popularity, even to improve on it by adapting a work of literature to the theater. He wants to be an artist, not merely a celebrity as he is often accused of being. Many of the surreal moments of the film serve to show his inner emotional struggles. At one of his lowest moments, Riggan is convinced of his prowess and popularity in the action world, at least in the past, by an incarnation of his former Birdman character. He is then able to fly literally and figuratively on this emotion above the fray, able to pursue his endeavor with confidence.
Near the end of the film, Riggan makes a decision to replace a prop gun which he uses in the final scene of the play with a real gun in an effort to commit suicide. He shoots himself and the audience and critics laud him as inventing "super realism" in the theater. Of course, it is fitting that Riggan shoots himself at that moment of the play because the story matches his own inability to find love. I also think the plot is a commentary on celebrity and how the audience loves to see an artist melt down and destroy themselves. Riggan's exploits become a version of reality television.
The ending is a bit vague, yet makes sense given the big picture. Riggan is in a hospital bed after shooting himself. He did not die and suffered lacerations on his face. You should notice how his bandages look fittingly like his Birdman mask. After Riggan is told of his artistic triumph and praise, he sees an apparition of Birdman and then jumps out of a hospital window. His daughter then returns to the room and looks out the window, offering a cryptic smile. The enduring question is whether Riggan jumped to his death or flew away as he did earlier in the film. We will never know, but the thematic end is the same no matter what happened. Emma Stone pokes her head out the window and looks down in horror and then up with a smile on her face. Whether or not his body was on the pavement or in the sky, Riggan finally got what he wanted: his play, reputation and artistic integrity soared. The ironic aspect is that Riggan unwittingly made a brilliant artistic choice to actually kill himself in the play. As many artists, he benefitted from the unexpected virtue of ignorance.
But the truly amazing aspect of the film is the directing. Alejandro González Iñárritu has invented a new type of film, one that unfolds organically in real time with continuous forward movement. The movie almost looks like one complete, uninterrupted shot with characters coming and going and then reappearing. Technically, there are only 16 cuts in the entire movie, compared to other films which could have hundreds. This style of film is one that I have never seen before, at least since Alfred Hitchcock's "Rope," which also seems like one continuous shot. The style of directing creates a breathtaking intensity which becomes instantly addictive.The soundtrack, which is mostly composed of jazz drumming, perfectly matches the pace and spirit of the film. Just as the complexity of jazz demands attention, so does the movie garner your complete engagement. "Birdman" is certainly a huge technical feat, one that is immediately impressive.
The movie begins with the epitaph from Raymond Carver's gravesite: "And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth." In many ways, "Birdman" is about seeking acceptance and admiration from the rest of the world. Riggan is seeking to regain his popularity, even to improve on it by adapting a work of literature to the theater. He wants to be an artist, not merely a celebrity as he is often accused of being. Many of the surreal moments of the film serve to show his inner emotional struggles. At one of his lowest moments, Riggan is convinced of his prowess and popularity in the action world, at least in the past, by an incarnation of his former Birdman character. He is then able to fly literally and figuratively on this emotion above the fray, able to pursue his endeavor with confidence.
Near the end of the film, Riggan makes a decision to replace a prop gun which he uses in the final scene of the play with a real gun in an effort to commit suicide. He shoots himself and the audience and critics laud him as inventing "super realism" in the theater. Of course, it is fitting that Riggan shoots himself at that moment of the play because the story matches his own inability to find love. I also think the plot is a commentary on celebrity and how the audience loves to see an artist melt down and destroy themselves. Riggan's exploits become a version of reality television.
The ending is a bit vague, yet makes sense given the big picture. Riggan is in a hospital bed after shooting himself. He did not die and suffered lacerations on his face. You should notice how his bandages look fittingly like his Birdman mask. After Riggan is told of his artistic triumph and praise, he sees an apparition of Birdman and then jumps out of a hospital window. His daughter then returns to the room and looks out the window, offering a cryptic smile. The enduring question is whether Riggan jumped to his death or flew away as he did earlier in the film. We will never know, but the thematic end is the same no matter what happened. Emma Stone pokes her head out the window and looks down in horror and then up with a smile on her face. Whether or not his body was on the pavement or in the sky, Riggan finally got what he wanted: his play, reputation and artistic integrity soared. The ironic aspect is that Riggan unwittingly made a brilliant artistic choice to actually kill himself in the play. As many artists, he benefitted from the unexpected virtue of ignorance.
No comments:
Post a Comment