BIRDMAN OR (THE UNEXPECTED VIRTUE OF IGNORANCE) (Alejandro G. Iñárritu, 2014)
Opened October 17
www.birdmanthemovie.com
In Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance), Oscar-winning cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki’s swirling camera immerses the audience in Mexican director Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s gripping whirlwind black comedy of a former superhero action star trying to regain respect on the Broadway stage. Onetime Batman star Michael Keaton plays Riggan Thomson, an actor who left his blockbuster Birdman franchise in order to be taken more seriously. Twenty years later, he is considering refinancing his house in order to support his Broadway debut as writer, director, and star of an adaptation of Raymond Carver’s short story “What We Talk about When We Talk about Love.” As he works on the play with costars Mike Shiner (Edward Norton), Shiner’s girlfriend, Lesley (Naomi Watts), and his own girlfriend, Laura (Andrea Riseborough), he battles his inner demons, which take the form of the dark, gravelly voice of his Birdman character (voiced by Keaton). Either his somewhat obscure but vaguely Buddhist spiritual pursuits or his Birdman abilities also apparently give him the ability to move objects with his mind; the first time we see him, he is levitating in front of the window of his dressing room at the St. James Theatre. His team also includes his devoted lawyer, producer, and best friend, Jake (Zach Galifianakis), his stalwart stage manager, Annie (Merritt Wever), and his daughter and personal assistant, Sam (Emma Stone), a bitter and cynical young woman fresh out of rehab. He also has an encounter with vicious theater critic Tabitha Dickinson (Lindsay Duncan), who is licking her lips in anticipation of reviewing his show. With opening night approaching, Thomson must look deep within himself as he reevaluates his life and career.
Iñárritu (Amores Perros, Babel) and Lubezki (Gravity, Children of Men) take viewers on a wicked, wild ride in Birdman, which is masterfully made to look as if it is one continuous two-hour shot, the handful of cuts cleverly hidden as the camera roams through the narrow hallways and small dressing rooms of the St. James and into (and above) Times Square, instilling the film with the energy and feel of live theater. The live aspect reaches a new peak when, as Thomson is winding his way backstage accompanied by Antonio Sánchez’s propulsive percussion score, he runs past a man playing the music on the drums. (Think Count Basie leading his band out on the western plains in Blazing Saddles.) Another inside joke occurs when Shiner is shown reading Jorge Luis Borges’s Labyrinths, a short-story collection filled with magical scenes of its own. Keaton gives the best, bravest performance of his career as Thomson, a comeback role that clearly hits home; it seems so tailor made for him that it is hard to believe it was not written specifically for the ’80s star of such hits as Night Shift, Mr. Mom, Gung Ho, and Beetlejuice. Keaton — who has had very limited theater experience — lets it all hang out, as does Norton, channeling his narrator character from Fight Club. The film’s supporting cast is outstanding as well, including Watts, who is now considering making her long-awaited theater debut, and Amy Ryan as Thomson’s ex-wife, but Stone’s big, expressive eyes nearly steal the movie. Birdman is so fresh and potent, so dynamic and spirited, that it’s easy to forgive it its few plot holes. It’s a biting satire of Hollywood and Broadway, of fame and stardom, a magical fantasy that relates to everyone’s fear of becoming insignificant.