It's not hard to see why Birdman has divided audiences. It isn't an easy viewing experience and it would be all too simple to call it a 'Marmite' film, but it's not as straightforward as loving or hating Birdman; I think some people just don't 'get' it. And, no, I'm not setting myself above all others and claiming that I do get every point and nuance.
Writer/director Alejandro González Iñárritu (21 Grams, Biutiful) has crafted a comedy drama of depression and insanity where the viewer isn't always entirely certain what is going on either upon the screen or in Riggan Thomas' mind. For that matter, Riggan isn't entirely certain where the dividing line is between reality and psychosis, so what hope is there for us?
Riggan Thomas (Michael Keaton) is a washed up, wrung out movie star famous for his role as the titular Birdman. With his film career on the wane, his personal life in tatters and his mental state fragile, he endeavours to kick-start his career and prove that he is a real 'actor' by adapting, directing, staring and producing an adaptation of a Raymond Carver's short story, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, on Broadway. The production is troubled with recasting problems, relationships, clashes with inflated and fragile egos and family issues including a daughter, Sam (Emma Stone), who is begrudgingly working as his PA. But these problems are nothing compared to the maelstrom in his head.
Birdman is a very dark and frequently disturbing film that is lightened by occasionally also being very funny. There are snaps of dialogue and physical action that thrust a belly load of laughter into the air to lift the mood and the action, though mostly the action of language and retorts, keeps the viewer on edge. Antonio Sanchez' jazz drum score, however, scratches at the brain so that we are never truly comfortable, regardless of the humour and action upon the screen.
The camera work is an absolute joy to behold. Periodically a film comes along (The Player, Atonement) that causes us to rave about a particular scene that is one long, elaborate shot and which must have been rehearsed and choreographed endlessly. Birdman is comprised almost exclusively of such shots that are so beautifully edited that it is frequently very difficult to see where one shot ends and the next begins, although it is difficult not to be distracted by Iñárritu's skill and play 'spot the edit' rather than concentrating on the film.
Birdman is loaded to the brim with fine performances from Edward Norton's egotistical actor, Mike, to Lindsay Duncan's viciously cutting critic, Tabitha. With solidly impressive support at every turn from Zach Galifianakis, Naomi Watts et al, Iñárritu has filled Birdman with variety and sparkle from his cast. In any other year, Keaton would be looking pretty damn confident in the run up to the Oscars but he has a battle on his hands with Eddie Redmayne's turn in The Theory of Everything. Regardless of how much gold he wins this year, he is on blisteringly good form here as Riggan in what may very well displace Betelgeuse as his career-defining role.
I'm not entirely convinced that Birdman is a film to enjoy, but it is a fantastic, mind-mending, disturbing experience of madness and surrealism that needs to be witnessed more than explained. Take a deep breath and go for it, but don't blame me if you emerge with your head spinning and less relaxed than when you went in.
For more reviews from The Squiss, subscribe to my blog and like the Facebook page.
Writer/director Alejandro González Iñárritu (21 Grams, Biutiful) has crafted a comedy drama of depression and insanity where the viewer isn't always entirely certain what is going on either upon the screen or in Riggan Thomas' mind. For that matter, Riggan isn't entirely certain where the dividing line is between reality and psychosis, so what hope is there for us?
Riggan Thomas (Michael Keaton) is a washed up, wrung out movie star famous for his role as the titular Birdman. With his film career on the wane, his personal life in tatters and his mental state fragile, he endeavours to kick-start his career and prove that he is a real 'actor' by adapting, directing, staring and producing an adaptation of a Raymond Carver's short story, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, on Broadway. The production is troubled with recasting problems, relationships, clashes with inflated and fragile egos and family issues including a daughter, Sam (Emma Stone), who is begrudgingly working as his PA. But these problems are nothing compared to the maelstrom in his head.
Birdman is a very dark and frequently disturbing film that is lightened by occasionally also being very funny. There are snaps of dialogue and physical action that thrust a belly load of laughter into the air to lift the mood and the action, though mostly the action of language and retorts, keeps the viewer on edge. Antonio Sanchez' jazz drum score, however, scratches at the brain so that we are never truly comfortable, regardless of the humour and action upon the screen.
The camera work is an absolute joy to behold. Periodically a film comes along (The Player, Atonement) that causes us to rave about a particular scene that is one long, elaborate shot and which must have been rehearsed and choreographed endlessly. Birdman is comprised almost exclusively of such shots that are so beautifully edited that it is frequently very difficult to see where one shot ends and the next begins, although it is difficult not to be distracted by Iñárritu's skill and play 'spot the edit' rather than concentrating on the film.
Birdman is loaded to the brim with fine performances from Edward Norton's egotistical actor, Mike, to Lindsay Duncan's viciously cutting critic, Tabitha. With solidly impressive support at every turn from Zach Galifianakis, Naomi Watts et al, Iñárritu has filled Birdman with variety and sparkle from his cast. In any other year, Keaton would be looking pretty damn confident in the run up to the Oscars but he has a battle on his hands with Eddie Redmayne's turn in The Theory of Everything. Regardless of how much gold he wins this year, he is on blisteringly good form here as Riggan in what may very well displace Betelgeuse as his career-defining role.
I'm not entirely convinced that Birdman is a film to enjoy, but it is a fantastic, mind-mending, disturbing experience of madness and surrealism that needs to be witnessed more than explained. Take a deep breath and go for it, but don't blame me if you emerge with your head spinning and less relaxed than when you went in.
For more reviews from The Squiss, subscribe to my blog and like the Facebook page.