Birdman (or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)
Starring Michael Keaton, Naomi Watts, Edward Norton
Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu
Never appearing completely comfortable in a cape and cowl, Michael Keaton's most memorable moment in 1989's Batman found him out of costume, brandishing a fire iron and bellowing, “You want to get nuts? Come on! Let's get nuts!” It was the one occasion that Tim Burton allowed Keaton to remind us what an electric, unhinged performer he could be.
Twenty-five years on, Alejandro González Iñárritu allows Keaton to deliver his most anxiety-ridden and accomplished turn as Riggan Thompson, an actor who tasted stardom as a big-screen superhero but now desperately seeks validation by staging a Raymond Carver adaptation on Broadway. He's also trying to keep from coming apart at the mental seams, with his grip on reality proving more slippery as the flop sweat takes hold.
Coming off the masterclass in oppressive miserablism that was Biutiful, Iñárritu retains his penchant for technical bravura – some deft digital trickery and Emmanuel Lubezki's (Gravity) customarily graceful cinematography almost convince us that this is a single, two-hour take – but keeps the tone of this redemption tale loose enough to allow for welcome instances of whimsical magic realism. More often than not, the film delivers as an uproarious backstage satire that mercilessly skewers both the fragile psyches and raging narcissism of actors.
Consequently, while the rhythms of jazz drummer Antonio Sánchez's score instill urgency and Iñárritu's virtuosity dazzles, it's Keaton's performance that makes this all so enthralling. In every scene, he seems a man on the precipice, poised to implode but potentially capable of unshackling himself from his millstone of neuroses.
Ultimately, it's due to its soulfulness rather than its showiness that this idiosyncratic character study soars.
