Movie Review: "Birdman"

"Birdman": B.   When you watch a few dozen movies a year, there are going to be three or four which you can't decide if you like or not.  Such is the case with Birdman.  Michael Keaton, reportedly the nominee favored to win the Best Actor Oscar, plays Riggan Thomson, a Hollywood has-been who gained stardom years ago as the action hero, Birdman.  Now Riggan has moved to New York and risked everything he owns to open a four character play on Broadway called What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, based on a short story by Raymond Chandler.   Riggan directs, and casts himself in the leading role.  But forty-eight hours before the initial preview he decides that the man he's picked for the other male part is not talented enough; to say that poor soul is summarily fired would be putting it mildly.  The day is saved when Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) agrees to fill in.  Shiner is a well-respected Broadway veteran who will immediately give credibility to Riggan's new project.

Director Alejandro Inarritu shows us what life is like backstage.  The drama there is palpable.  One of his techniques is the single-take continuous shot, sometimes referred to as a "long take," where the camera moves from one area to another without interruption.  Robert Altman made this method famous in his 1975 movie Nashville, but I've rarely seen it since, probably because not many directors have the ability to make it work.  Inarritu also deserves a tip of the hat for meeting the challenge of filming a story (Chandler's play) within a story (Birdman).  That challenge is the kind which historically has had a low success rate.

There are plenty of screw-ups during the two preview nights.  Props fall apart, lines are forgotten, the performers' timing is off.  Riggan's mercurial personality adds fuel to the flame, and Shiner does not back down from any of their several confrontations. In fact, he seems to enjoy them. Riggan wants to cancel the second preview but his right hand man, Jake (Zach Galifianakis), who functions as stage manager, accountant, lawyer and gopher, bluntly informs Riggan that cancellation, which would require ticket refunds, is not an option.  The second preview is sold out, mostly due to Shiner's last minute addition to the cast, and the fledgling production is under water financially.  The show must go on!

 

In addition to the strain of debuting his play, Thomson is pressured, if not tormented, by other concerns.  His daughter, Sam (Emma Stone), is fresh out of rehab.  Riggan has given her menial jobs to do around the theater, but she mostly exudes attitude which is not becoming.  She shows a softer side in her scenes with Shiner, but neither of them is very likable -- frankly, neither is anyone else in the film -- so we don't care too much where their relationship takes them.

 

Two other thorns in Riggan's side are his former wife, Sylvia (Amy Ryan), who may have good intentions but usually strikes a nerve with her ex, and Tabitha (Lindsay Duncan), a theater critic who promises Riggan, even before she sees it, that she'll "bury" his play.  She is appalled that a film star, and a former one at that, would have the nerve to think he could contribute to the pure art of theater.

 

Probably the "being" that agitates Riggan the most is his Birdman alter ego.  Riggan is prone to temper tantrums, usually the result of Birdman egging him on.   At first we only hear the voice; it reminded me of the devil's voice coming out of Linda Blair's mouth in 1973's The Exorcist.  Later in the film the voice has a body, that of a man in a bird costume, to go with it.  Combine all this with Riggan's telekinetic powers, and you have one surrealistic story.

 

There are two memorable scenes in the movie.  The first occurs on Shiner's first day on the set.  He and Riggan play off each other without the need of a script.  Admirably, the dialogue flows with a natural rhythm.  This informs the movie viewers in two ways: Shiner is a brilliant actor, and so is Norton.  The other scene of note is the searing, in-your-face monologue which Sam delivers to her father.  Among other things, she tells him that he is a nobody.  "You're not even on Facebook," she screams.  That one hit a little too close to home.