In
talking about Birdman, it’s hard to know where to start. If you were to encounter a time traveler from
the 18th Century, where would you begin describing the complexity of the modern
world? Such is the challenge this film
presents. It’s an almost excruciatingly
intense journey through four days in a has-been actor’s life, culminating with
the opening night of his Broadway play; probably his last chance to resurrect
his career and find meaning in a squandered existence.
The
assault on conventional filmmaking by Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu, who
directed, co-wrote and co-produced Birdman, begins in the opening scene,
where we encounter the protagonist, Riggan (played by Michael Keaton),
levitating in a lotus pose in his dressing room at the Saint James
Theatre. Once he concludes his
meditation, he begins a conversation with a menacing, bodiless voice while
practicing telekinesis on objects in the room.
He’s then summoned to the stage for a rehearsal that is interrupted when
a light falls from the overhead grid onto another actor’s head. However, this is only a momentary respite as
we start to realize that the camera never seems to cut and the drama never
stops.
Things
are complicated for Riggan, his family, the cast and crew of What We Talk
About When We Talk About Love, the short story by Raymond Craver that
Riggan has adapted into a play.
Relationships are messy. Egos and
insecurities are big and real. Broadway
is a tough place to make it, even if you were once a big-time movie star, whose
heyday was 20 years ago playing a comic book character in a bird suit (thus the
title of the film).
If
we, the audience, were given a moment to contemplate any of the blistering
scenes where these problems are offered up and contested, we might be able to
find our feet in this narrative. But
that would seemingly work against Iñárritu’s plans for us. He wants us to be on the roller coaster ride
with Riggan as he tries to make it to opening night and hold his tattered life
together.
It’s
appropriate that this film is about a play and set in a theater because it
probably had to be shot like a series of theatrical performances. The takes are long, really long and the
editing is clever enough to make the whole movie seem like one, continuous
shot. In order to pull this off, not
only do the actors’ performances have to be spot on all the way through a scene
but the ever-moving camera has to dance with the thespians while all the
technical aspects of filmmaking (lighting, sound, focus, etc.) need to be right
as well.
The
supporting cast (Edward Norton, Naomi Watts, Andrea Riseborough, Emma Stone,
Amy Ryan and Zach Galifianakis) are all strong in dealing with a script that
strains credibility at times. Director
of Photography, Emmanuel Lubezki (Academy Award winner for last year’s Gravity), is sure to get consideration again
come award season for the way he shot this film.
Leaving
the theater after seeing Birdman, I struggled to know whether I’d liked
the film or not. Such was intensity of
the viewing experience. I knew I was
impressed with Iñárritu’s skill, imagination and ambition in taking filmmaking
in a new direction. He also brought in
elements of magical realism to the story as Riggan seemingly maintained the
powers of his former Birdman persona.
Casting Keaton as a kind of parody of himself was also an artful way of
taking a swipe at the movie industry and the films it churns out year after
year. Ultimately though I think Iñárritu
is trying to say something profound about modern life: In some way, we’re all Riggan. We’re all performers trying to pull something
off and hold things together in a 21st Century world where everything is
instantaneous. If that is what modern
life is about then Inárritu is making it look easy.
