Iñárritu's most personal film to date

Rating: 8/10 (5 May 2015)

Birdman is the most recent outing by director Iñárritu whom you most likely know from such films as Babel and 21 Grams. Back them he was still working with writer Guillermo Arriaga, but after they had a falling out and so Iñárritu had to find help for his scripts elsewhere. That he did and Birdman is the most impressive result of this collaboration.
Birdman is the story of film actor Riggan who was once known for playing superhero Birdman, but now seeks to conquer the theater in a bid to be taken seriously. He transforms the Raymond Carver story ("What We Talk About When We Talk About Love") into a play which he himself acts in, produces and directs. He risks everything, all his money and so on, to make this a success, but of course there are obstacles. He's not only confronted by his own ego in a Batman-esque voice-over, but also by a last-minute replacement actor and the ways he's failed as father and husband.
I'll be honest and say Birdman is difficult to review. It's one of those films that's not only incredibly meta, but also deals with the very concept of reviewing. To then simply note some pluses and minuses would therefore be quite insufficient, although that's what reviews boil down to, right? It also doesn't help that the film seems to take on so many themes that I don't feel it did right by most of them.
On the other hand, the film definitely has flair, its own style, both dramatically and comically. There were moments where I genuinely felt I was watching something 'new' again, something that hadn't been done before, or at least not in this way. If you ever think to yourself, 'man, where did all those visually stunning movies go?, then Birdman is required viewing. After Biutiful almost drowned in its own melodrama, I feared Iñárritu might've lost his touch, so his decision to inject a healthy dose of humor into Birdman was definitely a right one. The film has so much flair, but let's be honest: when Emmanuel Lubezki is your cinematographer, you're in good hands. If you've seen Children of Men, you know what I'm talking about. Just like that film was immediately renowned for its long shots, Birdman is shot and edited to appear like one continuous shot. And before you say it's a useless gimmick, remember that theater too is 'one continuous shot'; it provides a nice dose of 'realism.' You could regard every cut in a film as a moment where you're taken out of the experience, at least subconsciously, because the cut reminds you of the fact you're watching a film. Birdman of course uses editing to achieve this effect, but tries to hide it a bit like Hitchcock did in Rope. Not only does this increase the sense of realism, but the tension is also heightened. Speaking of tension, Antonio Sanchez's drum score deserves a lot of praise and is sure to rekindle discussions about whether or not drum solos can be 'original 'scores.' You can hear it on YouTube, but you need the film to truly appreciate it.
Regarding the acting, I can't say a lot that hasn't been said already. Michael Keaton is great, obviously, but Emma Stone (who has the best single rant) and Edward Norton (as the a little too dedicated actor) also deserve a lot of praise.
The story's great too, but (like I said earlier) I can't help but feel the film treats its topics and themes a bit too haphazardly. Birdman has something to say about pretty much everything and in that sense it reminds me of Save the Tiger. Birdman tries to be about human relationships, failed relationships, failed marriages, fathers, the film-theater relationship, the relationships between actors, between plays and critics, between those who produce and critique, notions of acting, selfishness, art, the way social media influence things on a professional and personal level, rehab, theatre in general, the way actors are on-stage and off-stage, etc. Yeah...unsurprisingly, the film leaves some of its plot elements unsolved, like the blossoming yet very dubious relationship between two characters which is never mentioned again or a random lesbian scene which is also never mentioned again. The humor is also very hit-or-miss. I like the parodies of the press, actors (the reference to Meg Ryan's plastic surgeon!) and the movie bizz, but other jokes ("We share vaginas") had me confused But these complaints are extremely minor compared to the thrilling overall experience.
I tend to see Birdman as Iñárritu's answer to Miyazaki's The Wind Rises, though not literally of course. If The Wind Rises is Miyazaki's attempt to reflect on his career and ask, like his protagonist, whether it was all worth it, then Birdman functions in similar fashion. Of course, Iñárritu still has a long career ahead of him, but it's interesting that for the first time he's explicitly asking questions about 'art' and all the efforts and self-doubts one experiences during the creation of art. Asking these questions means making yourself vulnerable, opening yourself up to criticism and Iñárritu seems to agree with Riggan when the latter verbally shreds a critic to pieces. He's putting his reputation on the line and fully commits to his play. In the end it's crucial to block out the dissenting voices, both the external and internal ones, and in this sense Birdman is Iñárritu's most personal film to date.