Birdman (or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) review
(From New Regency Pictures)
“How did we end up here?” asks a hoarse voice. “This place is horrible – smells like balls.” Michael Keaton is levitating above the floor of his evidently testicle scented dressing room, trying to channel out the mysterious speaker in his head. Keaton, like the character he is portraying, has not had a major role for over twenty years – which is very much the point of this brilliantly bizarre, black comedy. And director Alejandro González Iñárritu decides to illustrate the frustration of such circumstances by making his protagonist a telekinetic schizophrenic. Yes. Birdman (or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) is unconventional to say the least.
Keaton plays Hollywood has-been Riggan Thomson, an actor known solely for his role as comic book superhero, Birdman. He starred as the character in three films, but after turning down a fourth, saw his professional life plummet. Now, in the twilight of his career, he is out to prove himself as a serious actor, writer and director in his own Broadway adaptation of the play What We Talk About When We talk about Love.
Riggan is tormented by the success of the Birdman franchise. He’s recognised in the street by people who have to tell their children “he was Birdman”, and the crew of his play have bought him a wall-sized poster of the film. He can even hear and see the fictional character in his head, getting into arguments with him while trashing his dressing room with telekinesis – presumably one of the superhero’s powers.
It may seem surreal, but this is just an ordinary yarn about an inadequate actor who wants to be taken seriously as a theatrical talent. The problem is his ego distancing himself from his daughter (Emma Stone) and causing riffs with his lead actor (Edward Norton) in the days leading up to the play’s opening night.
The wonderful weirdness that does persist is undoubtedly a result of unprecedented and ambitious cinematography. It’s filmed in one continuous shot, no cuts or fades, and in certain scenes, the camera seemingly defies science by refusing to have a reflection in mirrors. Then there’s Keaton’s multifaceted, Oscar-tipped performance that unfalteringly keeps proceedings frantic.
Curiously enough, there are comparisons to be drawn between Keaton and his character Riggan – almost too many for it to be a coincidence. Not the telekinesis, schizophrenia or Broadway show, obviously. But in 1992, (the same year that Riggan finished Birdman) Keaton starred as Batman for the last time, and never quite succeeded in shaking off the typecast – until now.
Birdman (or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) offers Keaton a career-rebooting role. And although parts of the narrative need a while to take off, there is no question that this is an artistic experiment – one that produces hearty laughs and will inspire future filmmakers.
Follow Chris @CynicalCME
