Birdman (2014): *****

One of the first scenes in Birdman tracks in on the cast of Riggan Thomson’s (Michael Keaton) play rehearsing a scene, flowing seamlessly between acting out their parts and asking Thomson for direction in the same breath. It is one of the countless incidences where we call into the question the line between artificiality and the truth. It is also one of the numerous themes that director Alejandro González Iñárritu tackles in Birdman, a technically marvellous, darkly humorous and insightful film.

Riggan Thomson is trying to escape from the shadow of his most well-known role, the superhero Birdman, and reignite his career by directing, writing and starring in an adaptation of ‘What We Talk About When We Talk About Love’ (by Raymond Carver) on Broadway. Thomson’s plans go astray when Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) is brought in, to replace an actor Thomas intentionally injured, causing havoc due to his commitment to the Method technique and stealing Thomson’s limelight. As Thomson’s plans begins to shatter around him, he struggles with holding the production and himself together. 

Emmanuel Lubezki’s cinematography is astonishing, for almost the entirety of the movie it follows the action in one seemingly long continuous take, skilfully edited together to appear so by Douglas Crise and Stephen Mirrione. It glides down the labyrinthine, almost shapeshifting, backstage corridors of the theatre, joins in the frenzied preparations for the next scene of the play and slowly revolves around the cast as they deliver their dialogue. Some critics have suggested that the camera-work and the plot are too relentless; there is never a moment to breathe. Conversely, Iñárritu choose to utilise this technique because the world the characters inhibit is relentless. Everyone is desperate for recognition, especially Riggan Thomson - from one another, from critics and from the public. They want to be famous, they want to be respected, they want to be loved, they want to be truthful. Everything is riding on the production, so the continuous take is justified, it builds up the tension along with the plot as opening night draws nearer and nearer.  

Michael Keaton is mesmerising as Thomson, torn between the desire of being taken seriously as an actor and wanting the easier, instant gratification of fame his alter ego Birdman tempts him with. Keaton tracks Thomson’s spiral into self-loathing and a deluded sense of grandeur. Edward Norton is terrific as Shiner; an actor obsessed with being truthful onstage and being a prestigious theatre actor. He scoffs at Thomson’s past career as a superhero, ‘Popularity is the slutty little cousin of prestige’, but is envious at the attention Thomson garners from it. Another highlight is Emma Stone as Sam, filled with resent against her father for prioritising his career above her yet willing to help Thomson navigate through the fickle world of social media. Zac Galifianakis, in one of his more subtle performances, humorously lightens the scene, as Thomson’s lawyer first and friend second Jake. Naomi Watts and Andrea Riseborough also excel, bringing some bite to their roles as the supporting stars in Thomson’s production Lesley and Laura respectively.  

The overwhelming feeling whilst watching the film unfold is one of spontaneity, it feels as though the actors are improvising, with the camera-man and the audience coming all for the ride. This feeling is reinforced by Birdman’s drum score by Antonio Sánchez; it injects the film with jazz, pushing the action along and emphasising the dramatic beats. It is the sound of Broadway, everyone is hooked on its beat and doesn't ever want it to stop. To achieve such a sense of improvisation takes a high level of perfection and a technical finesse.  Birdman is a multi-layered and wondrous piece of art, displaying some fantastic cinematography and editing and showcasing a wide range of magnificent performances from its cast.