At the end of the day, nothing is important.

Rating: 8/10 (22 August 2016)

Birdman (or the Unexplained Virtue of Ignorance) is far from ignorant about the state of modern cinema, and art in general. It's more than just a fantastic film. It's a brilliantly weighted commentary on modern society, criticising both TV dinner box office hits as well as critics who do nothing but bemoan them. Most impressively, however, is that the film is self aware that it's contradictory. Once again, it's far from ignorant.
The film is a masterpiece purely on an aesthetic level. Of course, everyone will mention how amazing the one take feel is to the film, following Riggan and co. tentatively in their journey to transform themselves from washed up actors to true artists. Antonio Sanchez' freestyle score is perfect for Riggan's ego, as if acting as his own sole soundtrack. The casting is spot on as each actor essentially plays a 'deformed version' of themselves, blurring the lines between film and reality.
Where Birdman really hits the nail on the head, then, is in it's ability to question and comment upon reality. It throws up some existential crises for both characters and audience alike. What is the difference between art and entertainment, if there even is one? Is art still relevant if it doesn't appeal to the majority? Why do we let our egos control us so? Riggan's character battles intensely with his own self importance, as we can relate to. All of us have a birdman inside ourselves, but we have to remember, and take solace in the fact that, nothing we do is important.
Needless to say, Birdman, as the character says so himself in a brilliant moment directed to the camera, is a film that rejects pure entertainment in the traditional way for a compelling study of narcissism within the arts. Ironically, this makes it so much more entertaining than the large majority of films.