Review of Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) (2014) by David H — 16 Dec 2015

At a time when the studios appear reluctant to produce anything that doesn't have certified provenance, along comes Birdman, an entertaining, ambitious and mostly effective backstage satire that delights in mocking Hollywood's franchise obsession.

Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu (Babel, 21 Grams, Amores Perros) Birdman is the story of Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) a has-been Hollywood actor - once famous for playing superhero Birdman - who seeks to restore his artistic credibility by directing and starring in an ambitious Broadway show - his own adaptation of a Raymond Carver short story "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love". When one of his actors is hit by a falling stage light and is replaced by the egocentric loose cannon Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) Thomson now has to battle not only his inner demons (his Birdman alter ego) but also a shameless scene-stealer.

To add further weight on Thomson's shoulders, his manager/producer Jake (Zach Galifianakis) is stressing about the very likely possibility they'll both come out of this venture broke. His daughter, Sam (Emma Stone), has just come out of rehab and is angry at everything. His co-star/girlfriend, Laura (Andrea Riseborough), thinks she may be pregnant. And his other co-star, Lesley (Naomi Watts), is in an insecure lather about her first Broadway performance. On top of all that, the New York Times theatre critic, Tabitha Dickinson (Lindsay Duncan) has taken great offence at Hollywood setting foot on hallowed Broadway turf and has vowed to kill his show with the worst review she has ever written.

Iñárritu has shrewdly pieced together Thomson's existential crisis as if it is one long take - though the actual time frame of the story takes place over a number of days. Accompanied by a kinetic all-percussion score by Antonio Sanchez, cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki takes us on a ride - up corridors, through windows, across stages, along New York streets - that is mostly exhilarating. The first forty-five minutes or so are a delightful mélange of energy, humour, music, movement and sharp performance. I was grinning, realising I hadn't been so entertained at the movies in a very long time.

But while the film as a whole never quite loses its steam, its narrative drive does soften and Iñárritu tends to rely a little too heavily on his showmanship. The barbs regarding the superficiality of Hollywood grow repetitive, as do the denunciations of Thomson as a worthless hack. Subplots are underexplored. The characters of Jake, Lesley and Laura are underutilized while theatre critic, Dickinson, is afforded too much weight and her anti-Hollywood rant is anachronistic at best.

The 'look-at-me' flashiness is sure to be dismissed as pretension and the relative thinness of the plot may leave some unsated. But through the smoke of this collision of ideas, technique and tones is the brilliance of Keaton. Sure, he was made for this role, but what he brings to Thomson is so much more than what is in the script. Angst oozes out of every pore. There isn't a whiff of inauthenticity about his anxieties though his rapprochement is too easily realised and the film's resolution is unnecessarily abstruse - and perhaps a little too affected.

Keaton's supporting ensemble is fantastic. It's refreshing to see Galifianakis successfully navigate a straight role. Emma Stone proves once again she is the most interesting actress of her generation right now. Watts reminds us that she truly is an actress of substance. Riseborough is both funny and empathetic and sure to be on our screens a lot more in the future. And Norton is hilarious, skilfully treading that fine line between parody and overacting.

A cynical eye could easily unpack this film and expose its flaws. But to do so would be missing the point. Birdman is intended as a delicious ride. Its adrenal affects will naturally subside once you leave the cinema. But Iñárritu demonstrates that superheroes are not the only protagonists who can entertain and attract an audience. Indeed, this extremely damaged and fragile hero not only does that, he does what those other caricatures are unlikely to ever do - touch people and win awards.