
Last year I ran a series of posts dissecting the work of Mexican director Alejandro González Iñárritu in anticipation of his brand new film, Birdman (you can find all of those posts here). It’s now two weeks since Birdman arrived in UK cinemas and high time that I shared my review…
Is it possible to be both popular and prestigious in Hollywood? Can actors be artists as well as stars? And how should we measure their success? Ticket sales, public adoration, industry awards?
Birdman is almost certainly guaranteed the latter, already nabbing two Golden Globes and a whopping ten BAFTA nominations. This dark, introspective and ferocious comedy from Alejandro González Iñárritu explores the confused nature of the celebrity machine from the perspective of ageing and typecast comic-book movie star, Riggan (a stellar Michael Keaton). Casting himself in a Broadway play he both produces and directs, Riggan’s efforts to be taken seriously clash with his own internal doubts and desire for popularity, given voice by his former incarnation, Birdman.
It’s an unexpected change in tone from Iñárritu, known for his heavy-weight and sombre dramas 21 Grams and Biutiful. Yet it’s hard to think of a director who could do this self-analysing, industry-scrutinising film better. Iñárritu, whose earlier films were short lived at the multiplexes despite reaping widespread critical acclaim, peels back the layers of conflict between the artistic, the worthwhile and the popular. “People, they love blood. They love action. Not this talky, depressing, philosophical bullshit,” says Birdman in one of the many metaphorical conversations that happen inside Riggan’s head. These scenes play out in absurd, surrealist style feeding the piercing, relevant debate about cinema’s current obsession with comic book films. It could be Iñárritu himself talking, as Edward Norton has intimated about his own lines in the film.
“The casting of Michael Keaton plays a critical role in Iñárritu’s storytelling”
The casting of Michael Keaton here plays its own critical role in Iñárritu’s storytelling. Keaton’s former work as Batman in the late 1980s and early 1990s, before Marvel and DC Comics’ golden age, gives Birdman a heightened reality and a relevance that hammers home our misconceptions about celebrity and Hollywood. Is Riggan ‘Hollywood miserable’? Or does he deserve our sympathy? There’s no simple answer.
The dialogue is packed with savage commentary on the film industry. First Riggan is pitted against a talented but acutely vain theatre actor. Mike (Edward Norton), seeks critical acclaim, and has won it, acerbically reminding Riggan that “popularity is the slutty little cousin of prestige”. Then there’s Riggan’s ex-wife who spares no time dissecting his character, blaming his unhappiness on his willingness to “confuse love with admiration”. Riggan is just one of many characters in Birdman who are seeking validation but his choice of stage debut, an adaptation of Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, is particularly indicative of his state of mind. “I don’t exist,” says Riggan in the play’s final soliloquy when its revealed no-one loves him. Ironically, Riggan’s daughter points out this play about “middle class white people” is completely irrelevant to modern society.
The most savage of all Birdman’s attacks on cinema, however, come from theatre critic Tabitha Dickinson (Lindsay Duncan). Accusing the film industry of measuring its “worth in weekends” and “handing themselves awards for cartoons and pornography” she is truly scathing. But Dickinson’s determination to give Riggan a bad review reveals more than the evils of review click-bait. Dickinson’s problem with theatre closely resembles that which independent film lovers have with the studio system: it’s giving space to flimsy, commercially appealing work instead of championing quality. This is astute writing from Iñárritu, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris and Armando Bo. On further inspection Dickinson is no simple villain and has more in common with Riggan than either of them realise.
In drawing attention to the pitfalls of bitchy of criticism, Birdman attempts to frame a debate about how we talk about cinema, but its representation of theatre critics does not accurately translate to those in cinema today. While a single spiteful review from Dickinson can break a Broadway show, no amount of negative writing is going to put Michael Bay out of business. Only audiences can do that. Perhaps Birdman will encourage more to do so.
“Birdman is thoroughly recognisable as an Iñárritu film, densely packed with intricate themes that precisely interlock”
Birdman might offer a style change for Iñárritu but the director hasn’t entirely abandoned his familiar motifs either. Birdman is thoroughly recognisable as an Iñárritu film, densely packed with intricate themes that precisely interlock. Iñárritu even revisits some of his familiar visual tropes including flocking birds that capture the gaze of his protagonist. Here their meaning differs from those in his previous work, encapsulating the hope and freedom that accompanies a different kind of demise, or even resurrection: Iñárritu continues to leave his work open to a wide variety of interpretations. The director’s brief references to suicide, however, are particularly interesting, especially when we consider his previous work which focussed heavily on the tragedy of sudden, premature death and the desperate struggle to live. Here survival, another familiar Iñárritu theme, is explored in terms of legacy, in particular Riggan’s desire to be remembered as a lauded actor and director.
What becomes more apparent to Riggan as the film progresses is that his daughter, recovering addict Sam (Emma Stone), is a different, valuable part of his legacy. Parenthood, particularly the experience of fatherhood, is a recurring theme in both of Iñárritu’s films Babel and Biutiful and plays a crucial role here in Birdman too. The relationship is intense and fractious, increasingly so as Riggan tries to build bridges. It’s a familiar tale in cinema perhaps, but Iñárritu explores it with originality. The director captures one of Sam’s furious verbal tirades in close up, continuing to hold the camera on Sam as Riggan silently reacts. Iñárritu effectively turns us into Riggan: his reaction becomes ours as we infer it from Sam, who is grappling, before our eyes, with the emotional consequences of her fiery outburst.
And so for all its emphasis on cinema’s dichotomy between the artistic and the popular, Birdman is not as pretentious as it sounds. Riggan’s perspective is Iñárritu’s ally here, and the director is sympathetic to the washed-up celebrity’s desire for validation. When Dickinson accuses him (and the film industry) of being entitled, we are able to make up our own minds. Riggan’s perspective is enhanced by the creative camera work from cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (Gravity) that makes the razor-edged comedy appear as if filmed in a single take – trickery which has the added advantages of giving Birdman a feeling of fluidity, a sense of contrasting chaos and calm, and a sense of space that emphasises the insular and suffocating nature of the creative world.
In Birdman’s technically brilliant camera work, brutal commentary, clashing egos and rapid verbal sparring (that rivals Sorkin at his best), Iñárritu finds that perfect balance Riggan cannot, creating both meaningful and fiercely entertaining cinema.
VERDICT: ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ 5/5
UK release date: 2 January 2015
Certificate: 15
Running time: 119 minutes
Images: © 2014 – Fox Searchlight
I did not notice any other film references but that is cool you picked up on Godard from the opening credits. Glad you liked this movie. Its one I hope to see again in theaters but sadly it’s not playing in much right now
Thanks Vern. All credit to Richard Brody of The New Yorker for that Godard spot. I’m looking forward to seeing this one again soon too – I think it will offer even more on the re-watch.
Very strong review. It seems this movie is really catching on with people. I definitely liked it but didn’t completely go for it. Still, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again soon.
Thanks Keith. I have a feeling that this one will offer more and more with each viewing – that’s how I’ve felt about his other films too.
The cast here is absolutely solid and make this movie so worth the watch. Good review.
BRAVO! I could give you a standing ovation for this beautiful review, wow!! It’s my #1 pick Natalie so yeah, I agree w/ everything you said 🙂
I forgot how good and spot-on that quote was… “People, they love blood. They love action. Not this talky, depressing, philosophical bullshit,” Given how Transformers rule over every movie released last year and Tak3n made a bazillion more money than Selma, I’d say that the quote describes Hollywood mainstream moviegoers perfectly!
Thanks Ruth for those kind words! Glad you love this one too. It just feels so relevant and in tune with how so many movie fans are feeling at the moment. I can’t wait to see it again!
I’m so glad you all finally got this film. It’s nice seeing good reviews of it from all over now. I’ve seen it 3x. 1st time waaaay back in Sept. at a special screening w/Michael Keaton & Prod. then another screening abt 2 mos. later because I loved it so much..then in Dec at an Oscar screening again w/Keaton & this time Inarritu himself also. They are both just fantastic people and I love their work..this movie and your review!! 😀
Wow those Q&As with Michael Keaton and Iñárritu sound amazing. I’m a huge fan of Iñárritu and this one didn’t disappoint. Thanks for your comments Peggy 🙂
Very nice spot with the Godard reference. Definitely agree with the Sorkin comparison as well – the exchanges, particularly between Keaton and Norton are incredible. Great review!
Thanks Jim. All credit for spotting the Godard reference goes to Richard Brody from the New Yorker but I’m sure there are tons more references in there to be found on the re-watch. I agree the verbal sparring was one of the most enjoyable things about this movie. I’m looking forward to seeing how it does at the Academy Awards.
I actually learned a thing or two from this review. I did not catch any of the references.
I’m with you on the perfect score. This is a fantastic piece of film craftsmanship.
Thanks. Glad you enjoyed this one. He’s one of my favourite directors and I’m really pleased to see him getting awards recognition.
Brilliant review Natalie! We’re on the same wavelength with this one – an exceptional piece that superbly analyses and critiques modern cinema, audience desire and journalism.
Adam.
Thanks! Glad it’s one of your favourites too. Really pleased to hear so many people have enjoyed it.
[Spoiler Alert — do not read this comment if you haven’t seen it]
I just saw it, and loved it!! I remember catching many film references while I watched it, but I cannot remember them now. I’ll have to see it again.
The Birdman voice was an obvious reference to the later (Christian Bale’s) Batman.
The device of a real instead of a toy gun was used in Sleuth.
The anxiety about artistic relevance is in Fellini’s 8 1/2 (and Woody Allen’s wonderful Stardust Memories), among others. (I’ve yet to see Chris Rock’s Top 5)
The backstage drama mixed with onstage action has been seen in many films from Kiss Me Kate to (the best example I can think of at the moment) Noises Off. (And what was that film about an English theatre company putting on a Shakespeare play and one of the actresses was named “Vag”?)
Speaking of Shakespeare, the scene with the homeless man ranting the “Out, out brief candle … tale told by an idiot signifying nothing” from MacBeth, and then turning to Riggan and repeating the excuses made by the bad actor in the beginning of the film (“Was it too much? I was trying to give you a range…”) was genius and worth the price of admission.
The use of jazz drum solos to take us inside the mind of a troubled artist was used (I think) in All That Jazz and I think some other films (maybe Lenny?)
Putting together his relationship with estranged wife and daughter — also All That Jazz.
The creative use of reflections reminded me of Godard’s Weekend (and many other films). I especially liked the reflection of the Phantom of the Opera sign from across the street.
Did anyone else feel the Birdman had the emotional impact of Death in the Seventh Seal? His wings reminded me of Black Swan.
The score was fabulous!
But I think while I was watching it even little pieces of dialogue reminded me of specific films. I just can’t remember now. One of the reason I went to the movies today is I did not sleep much last night and my mental faculties were not sharp enough for work.
When the Galifinakis character chased the press out of the hospital room it reminded me of a scene from Pennebaker’s “Don’t Look Back” documentary where Bob Dylan’s manager chased a concerned hotel employee out of a drunken party.
I felt like I was being stimulated on many different levels in every scene. Terrific film (and terrific review, too)
Thanks very much for stopping by and commenting. I agree with you that the score was fabulous and I loved the Shakespeare moment too. You’ve spotted a lot going on here! I haven’t seen Don’t Look Back but I can see what you’re saying about Black Swan and The Seventh Seal. I can’t wait to watch this one again, I think it will offer more and more with every viewing as so much of Iñárritu’s work does.
Oh, and I loved that Mike was reading Borges’ “Labyrinths” while in the tanning bed!
Loved the ending and was reminded of the ending of Being There
So many references to Fellini’s 8-1/2, from the flying/fantasy scenes escaping artistic frustration to the classic solutions to an existential confrontation with the absurd where life offers no rational way out: suicide or continuing to knowing your life is absurd. Both men take both choices; Mastroianni as Guido crawls under the banquet table on the beach in a timeless moment where the demanding crowd, screaming American reporter, famous actress demanding her part and producer demanding a non-existent script swirl around him but do not see him shoot himself under the table. Miraculously he is not dead and able to take the second classic choice– he gets up and all join hands in a circle dance led by himself as a child dressed as harlequin (symbol of the absurd) and all pretend things are fine. Birdman also takes both choices; he jumps to his death, but then miraculously appears to fly again above his room on the sidewalk in the eyes of his smiling daughter. The way both films weave these images of fantasy escape and frustrating reality, the way both characters are visited by those who have haunted them, and many other similar aspects make Birdman another of the ambitious films since 1963 that pay great image to Fellini’s masterpiece.
Thanks for getting in touch with these insightful comments Michael. There’s so much debate taking place about Birdman’s ending (I think I need to see it again before I can figure out what I think it all means). It’s very interesting that you’ve pointed out the similarities of Birdman’s finale with Fellini’s work. I haven’t seen 8 1/2 but I’ve just moved it up my watch list.
Film reference: love how Ed Norton mentions “Prestige” in one of his rants, which Norton starred in!