BIRDMAN OR (THE UNEXPECTED VIRTUE OF IGNORANCE)

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) follows - quite literally - Riggan Thompson (Michael Keaton), the ex-star of Hollywood's hugely successful Birdman franchise, as he courts legitimacy with a Broadway production of the Raymond Carver story ‘What We Talk About When We Talk About Love’.  Riggan is staking everything - his financial stability, his professional reputation, his sanity - on the success of  his play, as he encounters problems with his cast and his own brittle metal state. His internal monologue, personified by his famous Birdman character, is constantly questioning whether he wants critical acclaim or global celebrity.

Alejandro González Iñárritu has crafted a strange and enigmatic movie. Birdman's two hour duration is presented as one long, glorious tracking shot. It's an inventive device that succeeds in depicting the whole movie almost as if it were itself a play; and it lends itself to some very inventive problem solving when faced with the progression of time and location. Likewise, the superhero motif of Riggan's past glory is used to illustrate the movie's bigger, art v commercialism pondering, and creatively sketches Riggan's mental unravelling.

It's Keaton's show, and no mistake, but he's ably abetted by the likes of Naomi Watts and Zach Galifianakis testing their acting mettle here. But for all its great performances, it does over-egg itself at times. Emma Stone's grandstanding,  wide eyed gesticulating is a gnats cock away from being Jack Nicholson on the stairs in The Shining shrieking "gimme the bat", and even Keaton himself ramps up the 'actor face' a bit much.  Edward Norton excels above all others as Mike Shiner, the best actor in the production, which has one wondering if this is intentional - if the actors in the movie are supposed to be mimicking the skills and qualities of the actors in the theatre production - or if that's reading too much into it?

Birdman is a weird,  interesting cinema experience, but is ultimately a little unsatisfying.  Is Birdman just musing on relevance in the digital age, and creative success versus commercial success  like it's conflicted protagonist? Or is there a message in the madness? Perhaps it is merely asking questions of itself and its audience, despite feeling like it has a point to make. On the one hand Birdman is taking pot shots at Hollywood and comic book movies, while on the other, it rails against the critic who dismisses Riggan outright for his celebrity and populist career. It's message therefore, IF it has one, is left feeling a little inscrutable.

Nonetheless, Birdman is an absorbing watch. I'm not sure if it is quite the challenging piece of cinema it is being held up to be. Nor is it perhaps fully deserving of all its attendant hyperbole.  But it is certainly an intriguing curiosity, with a very pleasing oddness about it. And that alone makes it worth a look.

IMDB: Birdman