Now
that this film cleaned up at the Oscars, it’s back in my local cinema, so I was
able to take a look at this year’s best picture. And… I’m not quite sure. There are aspects of it that I really like,
others I don’t like at all, and still others that put me at a loss. The best movie of the year? I don’t know about that, but I know it’s not
everything I hoped it would be. (A few
spoilers.)
Michael
Keaton’s Riggan is a Hollywood star best known for the comic-book franchise he
headlined back in the ‘90s (possibly just a hint of meta there.) His career stalled years ago when he walked
away from the Birdman films, and he’s now directing and starring in a play he
adapted from a novel, a desperate attempt to reacquaint the public with his
capabilities. There’s interpersonal
drama, backstage blowups, and onstage flameouts, but the main thrust of the
story is Riggan’s drive to convince everyone (and himself) that he’s still relevant. The film ruminates on ideas of fame and
artistry, craft and spectacle, and the need to feel that someone sees us.
We’ll
start with what works. Alejandro G.
Iñárritu’s direction is excellent, dizzyingly up close and personal, and
Emmanuel Lubezki’s cinematography is spectacular. The design and the score add wonderfully to
the film, making even the outrageous things we see onscreen feel honest and alive. The cast, which includes Michael Keaton, Emma
Stone, Edward Norton, Naomi Watts, Zach Galifianakis, Amy Ryan, and Andrea
Riseborough (who played the lead in The
Devil’s Whore,) is quite good.
Special mention goes to Edward Norton as Riggan’s costar Mike, a notoriously-difficult
but brilliant method actor (maybe another smattering of meta) – Norton has a
talent for feeling really natural even when his character isn’t, and that’s
especially true here.
The
script has some genuine laughs, inventive flair, and good things to say about
the nature of acting and celebrity.
However, the script is also where the film stumbles the most. Sometimes it’s too pointed and
tell-don’t-show, while at others it revels in its own surreality and weirdness. There’s this trippy device in which
“Birdman’s” disembodied voice lectures Riggan about the direction his career’s
taken, and Riggan occasionally displays superhero powers (telekinesis, flight,
etc.) that are almost-definitely-but-not-100%-certainly in his head. I don’t know – sometimes stuff like that
works for me, but I’m not quite feeling it here.
As for
the story, I have a few strong complaints.
Pretty much all the female characters are woefully thin, and though
Norton is great as Mike, the script does him no favors. There’s being a difficult, demanding actor –
picking apart every line of the script, drinking real gin onstage, and bring a
sunbed to his dressing room so he can be “authentically” redneck – and then
there’s toxic dickery. He straight-up
tries to sexually assault Watts’s Lesley during a performance, on the grounds
that it’ll be much “truer” if they actually do the deed. I know actresses deal with lots of sexist
crap, but I can’t believe that this incident is basically treated as comparable
to the other insane stuff he pulls, and I can’t believe he wouldn’t have been
fired from the play over it. That’s
either wildly implausible or grossly depressing (probably a little of both.)
Warnings
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