Insecurities, self-reflection at core of Birdman

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PHOTO COURTESY FOX SEARCHLIGHT PICTURES

Michael Keaton as Riggan Thomson in Birdman.

Michael Keaton as Riggan Thomson in Birdman.

PHOTO COURTESY FOX SEARCHLIGHT PICTURES

Like a snake consuming its own tail, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s Birdman is so postmodern, so self-referential that it ultimately begins to consume itself. This is all as it was designed to be by the director, who co-wrote the script, as this daring exercise asks members of its cast to put themselves under the microscope as the film skewers their onscreen personae as well as vacuous Hollywood movies and Broadway plays that pander to the masses and actors whose sense of self-importance gets the best of them. To his credit, Inarritu pokes fun at himself as well, as he recognizes the over serious nature of his past films, (Babel and 21 Grams among them) and deflates them in this movie with similar intent.

Michael Keaton, giving the most daring performance of his career, is Riggan Thomson, an actor who made millions and became an international superstar by starring in three superhero films as the character Birdman. Disillusioned with the workings of the Hollywood machine and the pressure fame brought him, the actor distanced himself from the mainstream, as well as his family. Now, years later, in an effort to be relevant again, he stages a foolhardy comeback by adapting, directing and starring in an adaptation of the Raymond Carver short story, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. This is an all-or-nothing proposition as Thomson has all of his money, as well as his reputation, invested in this venture, which seems unlikely to get off the ground as opening night approaches.

Quite a few theater movie tropes are at play here and that Inarritu uses them may be the most daring thing of all in the film. We have Mike (Edward Norton), the arrogant co-star who threatens to steal the show, Lesley (Naomi Watts), the insecure ingénue craving attention, as well as Laura (Andrea Riseborough), the clinging actress who enters into an affair with the lead actor to curry favor. Add to the mix Jake (Zach Galifianakis), Thomson’s attorney/producer, and Sam (Emma Stone), his daughter, fresh from rehab, craving her father’s attention. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Birdman himself, the nagging voice in Thomson’s head that implores him to go back and be the man he once was, becoming stronger and more present as one disaster piles on another.

This combination of personalities makes for emotional fireworks, and that the characters, played by Keaton, Norton and, to an extent, Watts, are a reflection of themselves helps build a strong subtext as well as add to the fun. Keaton is obviously having a great time here, getting to express his frustration over the double-edged sword of playing an iconic role like Batman, while simultaneously stretching himself in ways that being identified with the role prevented. Note how often and in various ways Thomson is exposed in the film – when his fly is down, when his hairpiece is removed, when he finds himself nearly naked in Times Square – and it becomes obvious that Keaton has longed to be as honest and transparent on screen and in public as he is here. Norton is equally daring, giving us an actor whose method has led to madness, a man so insecure that the only way he can obscure these feelings is by pushing himself past the limits of good taste and reason. His bedtime scene with Watts as they go on stage is a hoot and a moment that you sense may have had some basis in reality.

Inarritu employs a daring approach, presenting the story in one continuous take. Using methods similar to those used in Hitchcock’s Rope and the 2011 horror film Silent House, cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, Oscar-winner for last year’s Gravity, pulls off this interesting trick as the camera serves as a metaphor for Thomson’s roving nature, looking for something elusive, namely a sense of validation. Just as the characters in the play he’s producing, the actor is seeking love, mistaking the adulation of strangers as acceptance, blind to the fact the source of what he seeks is right in front of him as Sam longs to make a connection with him.

While the movie sounds like a deadly serious exercise, Birdman is in fact a great deal of fun, finding humor in its character’s insecurities and the extent to which they go to negate them. Its characters’ longings to find purpose in their lives is our own and it becomes apparent that searching for validity in anonymity is far better than seeking it on the boards of the Great White Way.

Contact Chuck Koplinski at [email protected].