Birdman (2014)

An actor who once ruled the world as a superhero now thrashes about on a stage, trying to prove a self the world is forgetting. Birdman follows that desperate struggle with a camera stitched together as if it never once cut. Films in which form and content interlock this tightly are rare. The film cages one human being’s ego, vanity, and craving for recognition inside the narrow backstage corridors, and never lets the audience take their eyes off him for a moment. My rating is ★4.0.

What it’s about — A washed-up actor’s Broadway gamble

Riggan (Michael Keaton) once enjoyed great fame in superhero films as Birdman, but he is now a washed-up actor. To prove that he is a true artist, he pours his own money into adapting, directing, and starring in a Broadway play himself. As the opening approaches, the prickly genius actor Mike (Edward Norton) joins the cast and tangles things further, while Riggan’s relationship with his daughter Sam (Emma Stone), fresh out of rehab, is precarious. On top of that, the voice of Birdman ceaselessly mocks and goads him inside his head. The film follows the few days leading up to opening night, breathless, alongside the chaos on and off the stage.

Direction — The pressure of a single take stitched into one breath

This film’s greatest ambition is its form. Alejandro González Iñárritu, together with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, edited the entire film to appear as one long shot. The camera follows the characters around corridors and across backstage, giving the impression that it never once stops. This unbroken gaze transfers the pressure Riggan feels directly onto the audience. With no cut to escape into, neither character nor viewer can break free of the tension. Atop this, music centered on drum playing lays an unstable rhythm that keeps the nerves on edge.

The dazzle of the form risked drifting into mere technique, but the film binds that form tightly to the theme. The screen running in a single breath is at once the predicament of an actor who cannot step off the stage and a visual equivalent of the craving for recognition that must endlessly prove itself.

Performance — Keaton’s self-confession overlapping with his real career

Michael Keaton’s performance cannot be left out of any discussion of this film. As his own career, having once played a superhero, overlaps with Riggan’s predicament, the line between acting and self-confession blurs. He renders the crumbling man with his whole body, moving between bravado and despair, self-mockery and madness. Edward Norton slyly plays an eccentric actor who is truly alive only on stage, striking sparks each time he collides with Keaton. Emma Stone captures, in depth even within limited screen time, the complex emotions of a daughter mingling resentment and pity toward her father. The dense ensemble the actors forge within the narrow space is another engine of this film.

What the film says — The contradiction of everyone who wants to be recognized

Birdman is the story of one actor and, at the same time, the story of everyone who wants to be recognized. Riggan tries to prove his worth through artistic achievement, yet he also thirsts for the applause of the crowd and the recognition of critics. The film gazes quietly at that contradictory desire, neither mocking nor glorifying it. The voice of Birdman in his head is at once the past glory he can never quite shake and an inner voice endlessly craving greater recognition. Interpretations of the ending divide from viewer to viewer, but that very ambiguity reveals the depth of the question this film poses.

Ratings & reception

The IMDb rating is 7.7 out of 10. The Rotten Tomatoes Tomatometer reaches 91 percent, and the Metacritic score is 87 out of 100, with overwhelming critical praise. At the Academy Awards it swept Best Picture, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, and Best Cinematography, rising to the year’s most talked-about work. In that it was recognized for formal experimentation and deep thematic consciousness at once, this film’s evaluation carries meaning beyond mere high numbers.

Verdict

Films in which form and theme answer each other this perfectly are not often encountered. The pressure created by the unbroken camera, Michael Keaton’s devoted performance, and the universal theme of the craving for recognition all roll forward as one mass. The somewhat flashy form may feel burdensome, but even that cannot be separated from what this film means to say. Because it possesses ambition and polish together, four stars come naturally.

Recommended for

• Viewers who love films distinguished by formal experimentation
• Those drawn to stories about the inner lives of actors and artists
• Anyone who wants to witness Michael Keaton’s career-best performance