Throwing mine on the pile...

Rating: 10/10 (5 February 2015)

Gotta say, with 400+ user reviews at this time, this comment is having trouble feeling significant!
But I gotta back up my rating, right? It's simple: The piece feels like the very best of fine theatre, coupled with tremendous filmmaking craft, and yet somehow floating free of the curse of detectable artifice.
This flick is an absolute jewel box of semantic riches, like a book that you can open randomly, plunk a finger down, and discover yet-another passage that blows your mind.
For example, I was just now reflecting on the scene where the hero faces off the critic in the bar. That scene is a mind-blower, in that it masterfully--if not seemingly inadvertently--mitigates against its own self. The woman decries the death of art, and does so with such force that we could overlook the fact of how that scene shimmers with deep and beautiful artistry.
OK, that's one example. This flick is both visual and experiential fine sculpture. In the same way that great sculpture invites you to brave its firehose of beautiful imagery as you circumambulate it, this film is a non-stop cavalcade of beautiful visual impressions and whirling, tumbling humanity.
As _Capote_ was for PSH, and _Kill Bill_ was for David Carradine, I sense that _Birdman_ could be the performance of a lifetime for Keaton. Sure, I hope he continues to hew to this kind of daredevilry in the future, but... He has somehow secured something precious and timeless with this flick.