87. Birdman (2014)

Plot Intro

Ageing actor Riggan (Michael Keaton) is best known for his portrayal of superhero, Birdman, many years ago but is now trying to break into the theatre world with his own adaptation of a Raymond Carver short story. Throughout the rehearsals and final performance, he must contend with a self-absorbed method actor (Edward Norton), an equally insecure leading actress (Naomi Watts), his recovering drug-addict daughter (Emma Stone), an avaricious producer (Zach Galifianakis) and an intensely snobbish theatre critic (Lindsay Duncan). Good luck to him.

Doug says...

Birdman is the thrilling tale of a half-man half-bird who soars through America, righting wrongs and doing duels with his nose/beak hybrid. 

Not really, although that would be excellent. Actually Birdman is an artistic and dreamlike critique of the acting business, of fame and of the desire of artists to create something meaningful rather than something flashy and crowd-pleasing. 

It’s a tour-de-force. Shot in one (seemingly) continuous take, the camera moves, dodges, follows people, takes unexpected detours and pulls together a narrative of a man - Riggan - who used to be famous for playing a superhero: Birdman. Now, aged, he is known for it but is trying to pull together a production (written, directed and starring himself) of a literary short story. It’s a thrilling ride visually as we cannot see the seams, so it feels almost as if the director said ‘go’ and shot the whole thing - except he couldn’t have because whole scenes and cast members appear where they could not have been before. 

It’s an incredible idea, and creates this dreamlike stupor of foggy confusion - how long does this take place over? Does it even matter? At points Riggan’s daughter Sam (the ever-glorious Emma Stone), an ex-druggie, challenges him in fights. Where the camera would normally cut to Riggan, now it stays on Sam, so we see her reactions to him, her anger at his silence. Through this unconventional style, we get to find out different things about our characters. But the characters themselves are enigmatic - eluding us - right down to Lindsay Duncan’s perfectly drawn theatre critic Tabitha whose hate-filled monologue about film actors taking over Broadway seems entirely plausible yet utterly baffling. Who are these people? Are they real? 

Not to mention of course Riggan’s rival Mike (Edward Norton) who thrills audiences with his realism, yet at one point has a disturbing #metoo moment when he tries to have sex with his co-star on stage for real - for the realism of it. The film takes aim at this style of acting (we’ve heard so many tales of actors like Dustin Hoffman putting their co-stars (particularly female) in uncomfortable positions to elicit ‘real’ reactions) and neither Riggan or Mike come off well - rather as dreamers refusing to accept any measure of truth. 

And then there’s the moment we see Birdman for real - floating behind Riggan, above him, his voice booming out arguments for returning to the character and leaving his ‘artistic pretensions’ behind. It’s a valid argument - and with the Marvel world as strong as it is now, many actors may face a collision in themselves between art-house and crowd-pleasers. 

Apparently the film required vast amounts of choreography to achieve the seamless way that people seem to go about the ordinary business - including one show-stopping moment when Riggan (locked out by accident mid-play) has to go through Times Square in his pants and is besieged by tourists who recognise him. Later his daughter Sam will tell him that this fame (caught on youtube) isn’t ever a bad thing. It’s choreography and meaning intertwined - we see the claustrophobia and also his status as he struts quickly through the crowds desperate to return to the stage. 

In a way, I think it’s better that none of the actors won Oscars (even though everyone delivered), because what is left of this film - is the film itself. This dreamlike, twisting narrative - right up to the last metaphorical moment - is brilliant cinema. We are left unsure of what - or who - is real, and whether any of it even happened at all. 

Highlight 

The camerawork. It’s rare that camerawork can be said to have ‘made’ a film - but here it’s phenomenal. 

Lowlight

Bah! Nothing!

Mark 

10/10

Paul says...

It’s 2014, not that long ago, and the standards of cinema are changing. This is because, that very same year, an online streaming service called Netflix hit 50 million subscribers. Now, for less than a tenner a month, viewers have access to a myriad of movies and tv shows and they can watch as many, many, many hours of them as they bloody well like. Going to the cinema is becoming less and less imperative, so movies have to keep up, not by making themselves bigger, longer and louder (we have enough Marvel movies for that) but by becoming more inventive and surprising in their story-telling.

Birdman is a prime example of such a movement. It defeated The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Imitation Game, Selma, The Theory of Everything and Whiplash to win Best Picture, and nabbed three other awards too. This isn’t a huge win as Best Pictures go, but it tied with Budapest Hotel for most nominations (9) and most wins (4), so it’s a pretty massive achievement for 2014. It really got people talking, starting off as a Michael-Keaton (“Oh him, that guy who played Beetlejuice”) come back special, and evolving into a critical, commercial and artistic success. 

As Doug says, the directing and camera work are what the film is all about, so it’s no surprise that Keaton, Norton and Stone all lost out on their acting award nominations, although they thoroughly deserved these nods. The action almost entirely takes place in or around the theatre where Riggan is desperately trying to make this paint-by-numbers drama work. The camera moves down a corridor and suddenly we’ve gone from day into night, it’ll pass through a door and we’ve gone from an empty theatre to a bustling premiere night and back again. Everything is happening not just in one place, but in one time, and the sense for me is that the theatre is a setting where time and space is conflated and Riggan’s entire existence now revolves inside this turbulent and exasperating building. 

This is further evidenced by the fact that the few times we leave the building altogether are either unpleasant or delusional experiences. Riggan has to scuttle naked from the back to the front entrance, having been locked out by accident; he dreams of flying around, returning to his Birdman alter ego who, incidentally, speaks to him throughout; and the film ends with him hospitalised in a rather embarrassing way. The theatre is not just Riggan’s life, it’s his lifeline, his only way of moving away from the “low art” cartoon that he once was into more esoteric circles, and leaving it sends him into his most vulnerable state.

The sadness of Birdman is that Riggan just cannot do it. Despite his best efforts, there is a tremendously infuriating scene in which Lindsay Duncan, who is spectacularly evil as a nefarious theatre critic, states that she is going to destroy his play simply because actors as mediocre as him steal the theatre space and success from better, more experienced and more worthy playwrights. I was further incensed by the fact that I kind of agreed with her. Duncan deserved a Best Supporting Actress nod for that.

Birdman is a film that has evidently grown out of rewrites, ideas and fast-thinking. Apparently, there were endless changes to the script and story (at one point, they considered a cameo from Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow), so it is quite remarkable that the makers have conjured something so complex yet so cogent. My one criticism is that the final 20 minutes or so sees the film go even more haywire than I thought possible. There are a huge number of possible endings and interpretations and admittedly the makers stated that they wanted it to be open to discussion. But they didn’t have to throw in every possible idea that they came up with!

Nonetheless, this is a gripping piece of work, full of outstanding acting from its ensemble, some cracking jokes, moments of pathos, and an incredible dissection of what it’s like to have a career in performing arts. Not that much fun by the looks of it.

Highlight

Lindsay Duncan’s big scene is an absolute stealer.  

Lowlight

The final 20 minutes could have had some cutting down in my opinion. The film loses its cogency- but only slightly, mind you.

Mark

9/10