Birdman, or (The Unexpected Value of Ignorance) review

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Director Alejandro González Iñárritu's Birdman has gotten a lot of attention lately, and for good reason. The film is an exciting piece of work, exploding with style and boasting a surplus of ideas woven together into a layered narrative. It's by far one of the greatest films of the year.

Sorry for the delay, by the way. 

Birdman stars Michael Keaton as Riggan Thomson, an actor who is is most famous for playing the iconic superhero Birdman. Riggan is struggling to put together a broadway play, with opening night coming soon. In this time, he has to face his family, his career, and ultimately himself. But the film also puts some light on the people around Riggan, especially Mike Shiner (played by Edward Norton), an actor who Riggan gets to pop in last minute. Seeing various characters' plights around this production gives the play itself more weight; makes it an actual event and not just a backdrop or an accessory to Riggan's characterization.

Of course, the play is still important to Riggan as a character, being an anchoring moment that all of his other issues revolve around. The narrative branches out from the core of the play, discussing a variety of topics. Perhaps the most important of them is Riggan's artistic ambitions. His play, an adaptation of the short story What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, is intended to bring him back to relevance. However, he is plagued with doubts, which escalate through the film and lead to him coming ever closer to falling apart. Pressure comes patrially from within, with the film establishing an internal conflict between Riggan's blockbuster past and his artistic inspirations.

Riggan's family is also important in the film. His daughter, Sam (played by Emma Stone) is employed by him as a production assistant, and has a shaky relationship with her father. Sam feels that Riggan isn't there enough for her, and resents him for it. She's a prominent character in the film, and Stone does a great job portraying the character, who proves to be one of the most interesting pieces in the film's ensemble. Riggan also has to reconcile with his ex, who he talks to at times during the production. This particular conflict is probably the least prominent in the film, and comes to be one of the less interesting ones prominently. However, it still ties in well to Riggan's issues, and being the least interesting plot thread in Birdman is only bad in comparison.

Most importantly, though, are Riggan's internal issues. At several points, he is shown having some sort of mystical power, and while it's never entirely clear if he's imagining them, hallucinating them, or maybe even actually has them, they're accompanied by a voice in his head which puts words to his doubts. Riggan has to fight these doubts for much of the movie, providing his most intense internal conflict. Said voice comes in some of the film's more visually impressive scenes, with Riggan flinging items telekenetically about his room. What we see is items moving of their own accord, looking very real. Given that he's hearing voices in his head as this happens, it's more than likely that he's merely having delusions, but the unusual ending makes one wonder.

As a matter of fact, the film is a visual feast all around. Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki deserves major props for his visual work. The camera finds distinct angles that create a variety of effects, often having a lower angle when following someone from behind, and spinning around characters speaking each other to give a very behind-the-scenes feel to the proceedings. The audience is seeing a single viewpoint, while we get to see all of them at once. Even more stunning, however, is the fact that Birdman looks like a single take. Of course, it's not, as making a film in a single take is an astonishingly difficult task, and this film has moments that would probably not work without any editing. The camera follows characters around, pans between heads, and zips throughout the set to find where the action is and show it to us, and never are any edits conspicuous.

Lubezki's flow is perfect for Iñárritu, whose maximalist style benefits from the tapestry of long takes presented to us. A considerable amount of events happen in each take, resulting in the audience wondering what they'll see next. While the film is ultimately about Riggan, the pseudo-single take style allows for detours into side rooms and with other characters, making it almost feel like the set's being explored even though the narrative is still fairly linear. Iñárritu and Lubezki's styles intertwine and complement each other, developing the movie's style into something very much its own.

So, there it is. Birdman, or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance. This film has had a lot of buzz, and ultimately it's all very deserved. To conclude, if Birdman is playing near you, then you owe it to yourself to see it. This film is a visual feast, bursting with style, layered in its story, and bouncing off the walls with ideas. It is, to conclude, one of this year's best feature films.

10/10