Birdman Review

Grade: B+
One-Liner: A feather in the cap of film history, but not without some noticeable droppings.

It's not often that one gets to experience a nervous breakdown from inside a person's head. But that's exactly what writer and director Alejandro González Iñárritu accomplished in his pulsing display of cinematic acrobatics, Birdman.

The two-hour harried fever dream, captured in a seemingly flawless single shot (with few barely noticeable breaks), proved to be an actor's version of the American Ninja Warrior course for the ingenious troupe assembled. Each star's ability to master said course made them worthy of mention in the upcoming awards season.

Birdman follows Riggan (Michael Keaton) — a Hollywood veteran who will forever be known for playing action hero Birdman in the fictional franchise's three films — who is trying to reinvent his image by adapting and starring in a Broadway play. Naturally, parallels have already been drawn between Keaton's own life (he famously starred in Tim Burton's Batman and Batman Returns) and that of his troubled character. But in the same way people saw the resemblance between Ben Affleck's Nick Dunne in Gone Girl and the A-lister's real-life tabloid notoriety, the comparisons detract from the actors' exceptional acumen in their leading roles. Keating consistently stole the show, which shouldn't seem hard considering he was the main character, but in an ensemble as rife with flair and subtle brilliance, the star was forced to reclaim his rightful spotlight time and time again.

His biggest competition came from costars Ed Norton and Emma Stone. Norton played Mike, Riggan's main antagonist, who stars in the actor's Broadway play. His wide-eyed ardor and eccentric behind-the-scene methods would have been comical if you weren't so entranced by the Norton's precision and flawless execution in what are easily the most demanding conditions an actor can endure (you try remembering your lines for a play within a movie that's been shot for clips that run without break for more than 10 minutes at a time).

Like her Superbad costar Jonah Hill, Stone proved her worth lies far beyond the world of comedy in her role as Sam — Riggan's drug addicted daughter, who claims to have daddy issues, but who can't exactly pinpoint what wrongs her daddy has committed. In addition to stepping outside of her boundaries, Stone's passion-infused monologue highlighted my main problem with the film.

At one point as she listens to her father express that his play is the only real thing that matters in this moment, Sam explodes, exclaiming that Riggan is irrelevant and that the world is filled with people desperately trying to matter. Her outburst is crucial, because while I could appreciate the film's acting, direction, camera work, and script, the story itself proved more irritating than compelling. One particularly frustrating scene for me to watch involved a New York Times theatre critic, who spat vicious words at Riggan, claiming she'd already made up her mind about his play and performance before stepping foot in the theater. That comment coupled with another scene in which reporters sought damning sound bites for their sensationalized articles played into an overly simplistic stereotype about journalism, while ensuring the audience would sympathize with the pretentious, self-absorbed actors.

Perhaps that was the point. In a recent interview with Entertainment Weekly, Iñárritu noted that Birdman was "an exploration of my own ego and how it can become a dictator." While I appreciate the self-awareness and inspiration, that didn't make it any less sickening. Are we stroking the ego of those already in a place of power by praising a work created with the knowledge that it would be Oscar-worthy? The idea is enough to make me want to boycott the film entirely, but it would be a great misfortune not to witness such an advancement in cinema.