The Premise.
Birdman: Or, the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance follows Riggan Thompson (Michael Keaton), a washed-up actor known for his role in the fictional superhero trilogy Birdman. Unlike the famed Attorney at Law, this Birdman seems to be an almost perfect recreation of some other famous superhero. Thompson, in an attempt to legitimize what he believes to be a career defined by schlock, writes (and directs, and stars in) an adaptation of Raymond Carver's short story anthology What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. With a new actor and the production falling apart, Thompson begrudgingly weighs the worth of his career with his fragile ego, often out of touch with reality.
Objectively . . .
Birdman is something of a marvel: the cinematography is impeccable, the soundtrack is very fitting, the actors are perfectly cast—basically, there are very few things about the film to criticize without delving into nitpick territory.
The movie is filmed in a way to mimic a long take with no discernible breaks. This technique is tough to pull off due to the precision required to choreograph entrances and dialogue, and the fact that Birdman appears to be a two-hour-long single take gives the movie a frantic, almost schizophrenic feeling while some of the more chaotic events begin to unravel. Tricky editing is involved, but it's very difficult to notice when cuts are happening due to the seamless work of the director. I mean that quite literally: scenes will jump from a character's private room to a bar with no noticeable transition; characters will appear in one scene only for the camera to pan to a different time of day with that character in completely different clothing; in some rare occasions, scenes will transition from day to night leaving the viewer none the wiser. Red Letter Media's Half in the Bag review aptly compared this to the literary style of stream of consciousness, a technique often brought to film in varying degrees of success (though not often very good). An example would be the literary masterpiece The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner. Because the narrative style involves a seamless thought process with no breaks, characters will often remember details in various points of their lives or create fictional dialogue with other people, leaving the reader to piece together the story threads despite having some fairly unreliable narrators. I bring up this novel and Red Letter Media's review because it's probably the best example of this narrative device to be employed in film. The seamless breaks give the impression of the movie having a somnambulist quality, especially when magical realism comes into play. That being said, when the actual breaks in the long take occur, it's very effectively jarring.
The soundtrack, composed entirely of drums, feeds into the dreamlike aspect of the story without being obtrusive or hitting the viewer over the head with symbolism. Percussion often gives tension to a scene in a normal movie, but in Birdman the music is more jazzy and gives punch to scenes, and when they go missing in some scenes you'll notice. The silence can be awkward and painful at points, but this is typically done on purpose: the soundtrack weaves into the movie in such a way that it comes natural, and some twists to the visuals of the music add depth in an unexpected way.
Of course, I couldn't talk objectively about Birdman without touching on the main cast. Sure, Edward Norton and Emma Stone deliver subtle performances that need to be seen, but Michael Keaton, aside from being a very on-the-nose choice for Riggan Thompson (I'd be surprised if the script wasn't written with him in mind), delivers a stunning performance as a man conflicted with what he wants in life. His interactions with the formerly mentioned cast come off as tempestuous, raging at the circumstances beyond his control.
Subjectively . . .
The wait was worth it. I liked Birdman so much it's actually a bit hard to be objective about it for this review: for me, this is a perfect film. Funny at times, cerebral, heart-wrenching, deeply experimental and perfectly cast, Birdman represents a highly original and very enjoyable watch. If I had to criticize something it'd be the antagonist that arises halfway through the movie: for me, it was a massive bait-and-switch and the ultimate "villain" of the movie felt inconsequential, unlike the character I believed at first to be the actual antagonist. The tension between all these characters feels lopsided, but mostly because the antagonist has a very small role to play and has very little development. In a movie so committed to literally following characters uncomfortably close, the lack of development in that character felt like a missed opportunity.
Furthermore, I would have liked the ending to be a tad bit longer. I'll admit, as soon as the film was over I had to look on Google to see if I was crazy or just stupid, and sure enough there are pages and pages of discussion involving the ending, including dozens of theories. I typically enjoy open endings like this, but for Birdman I felt it deserved a bit more closure. Reading that this was something of a makeshift ending when the original didn't pan out makes sense, and truth be told I don't hate the ending at all, but I wish there was more time devoted to it. There's plenty in the movie to guide you to a conclusion, but it's a bit bare if you take it at face-value.
The Verdict:
Objectively, this is a highly experimental, well-directed and soft-spoken film that does not overstay its welcome.
Subjectively, there were minor things that while I didn't necessarily dislike, I would have preferred more dedicated screen time. In a film with so much sublime focus, it's weird that a few key elements are decidedly skimmed over.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
Objectively . . .
Birdman is something of a marvel: the cinematography is impeccable, the soundtrack is very fitting, the actors are perfectly cast—basically, there are very few things about the film to criticize without delving into nitpick territory.
The movie is filmed in a way to mimic a long take with no discernible breaks. This technique is tough to pull off due to the precision required to choreograph entrances and dialogue, and the fact that Birdman appears to be a two-hour-long single take gives the movie a frantic, almost schizophrenic feeling while some of the more chaotic events begin to unravel. Tricky editing is involved, but it's very difficult to notice when cuts are happening due to the seamless work of the director. I mean that quite literally: scenes will jump from a character's private room to a bar with no noticeable transition; characters will appear in one scene only for the camera to pan to a different time of day with that character in completely different clothing; in some rare occasions, scenes will transition from day to night leaving the viewer none the wiser. Red Letter Media's Half in the Bag review aptly compared this to the literary style of stream of consciousness, a technique often brought to film in varying degrees of success (though not often very good). An example would be the literary masterpiece The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner. Because the narrative style involves a seamless thought process with no breaks, characters will often remember details in various points of their lives or create fictional dialogue with other people, leaving the reader to piece together the story threads despite having some fairly unreliable narrators. I bring up this novel and Red Letter Media's review because it's probably the best example of this narrative device to be employed in film. The seamless breaks give the impression of the movie having a somnambulist quality, especially when magical realism comes into play. That being said, when the actual breaks in the long take occur, it's very effectively jarring.
The soundtrack, composed entirely of drums, feeds into the dreamlike aspect of the story without being obtrusive or hitting the viewer over the head with symbolism. Percussion often gives tension to a scene in a normal movie, but in Birdman the music is more jazzy and gives punch to scenes, and when they go missing in some scenes you'll notice. The silence can be awkward and painful at points, but this is typically done on purpose: the soundtrack weaves into the movie in such a way that it comes natural, and some twists to the visuals of the music add depth in an unexpected way.
Of course, I couldn't talk objectively about Birdman without touching on the main cast. Sure, Edward Norton and Emma Stone deliver subtle performances that need to be seen, but Michael Keaton, aside from being a very on-the-nose choice for Riggan Thompson (I'd be surprised if the script wasn't written with him in mind), delivers a stunning performance as a man conflicted with what he wants in life. His interactions with the formerly mentioned cast come off as tempestuous, raging at the circumstances beyond his control.
Subjectively . . .
The wait was worth it. I liked Birdman so much it's actually a bit hard to be objective about it for this review: for me, this is a perfect film. Funny at times, cerebral, heart-wrenching, deeply experimental and perfectly cast, Birdman represents a highly original and very enjoyable watch. If I had to criticize something it'd be the antagonist that arises halfway through the movie: for me, it was a massive bait-and-switch and the ultimate "villain" of the movie felt inconsequential, unlike the character I believed at first to be the actual antagonist. The tension between all these characters feels lopsided, but mostly because the antagonist has a very small role to play and has very little development. In a movie so committed to literally following characters uncomfortably close, the lack of development in that character felt like a missed opportunity.
Furthermore, I would have liked the ending to be a tad bit longer. I'll admit, as soon as the film was over I had to look on Google to see if I was crazy or just stupid, and sure enough there are pages and pages of discussion involving the ending, including dozens of theories. I typically enjoy open endings like this, but for Birdman I felt it deserved a bit more closure. Reading that this was something of a makeshift ending when the original didn't pan out makes sense, and truth be told I don't hate the ending at all, but I wish there was more time devoted to it. There's plenty in the movie to guide you to a conclusion, but it's a bit bare if you take it at face-value.
The Verdict:
Objectively, this is a highly experimental, well-directed and soft-spoken film that does not overstay its welcome.
Subjectively, there were minor things that while I didn't necessarily dislike, I would have preferred more dedicated screen time. In a film with so much sublime focus, it's weird that a few key elements are decidedly skimmed over.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
