Birdman

Before we get into this, you need to know where my head is at: I'm studying Tolkien at Oxford and this week I'm comparing Tolkien (who I love) and modernism (which I don't). I've been reading a lot of criticism and more than one person has been less than complimentary of the sort of modern way of not allowing a story to exist for the sake of being a story but making sure that it has some deeper meaning that makes the story almost secondary. It should be noted that I was writing and doing critical literary analysis right before I came and that my brain is, rather annoyingly, in the mode. So, suffice between the lit crit and this film I need an aspirin or a strong drink or something because my brain is just done.

Where my head is at is critical to how I came at this movie and my response to it.

First off: WOW. I mean--just--WOW. I scarcely know where to begin with this film and I apologize for the scatter shot review that is to follow. But that film was something else. Something both wonderful and frustrating. And something that should win Michael Keaton best actor without question. That is one of the best performances I've ever seen by anyone. And I  understand why it's up for best picture. I mean, aside from the sheer technical brilliance of it, you have the writing, the acting, the messages it's getting at, the play not within a play sort of thing, and then there's the drums and the music--let's just dig in.

So there is something I hate about this movie. I hate that it's trying to tell me something more than the story. I hate it partially because I'm currently in the "story for story's sake" camp (a place I'll always have a summer home in, but I don't plan on residing forever) and partially because I didn't quite get the ending or the music at some points or some of the writing, so that's frustrating. That being said, that it is trying to tell me something more is partially why I love it.

It's like a puzzle, this film. Parts of it make sense very quickly and other parts don't. (While I might not want to see this again in theaters, or to some extent ever because it's an emotionally draining film, I want the director's commentary, all the behind the scenes, everything where the director and writers explain what in the heck is up with this movie.) So, I think I understand the music. I think. I noticed - and this comes from having only seen it once and not having read up on it at all - that when there is music in the film there is acting. Now, obviously, they're acting the whole time. This isn't a story about Michael Keaton and Edward Norton. That isn't what I mean. What I mean is that there are only a few times when the characters are honest.

When there is no score, there is honesty. When they are on stage, there is honesty. When anyone talks to Emma Stone, the non-actor and non-producer, there is honesty.

I'd have to watch it again, but it is interesting that Riggan, Keaton's character, "controls" the score. Is there only music when he's on screen? Maybe--I don't know. I'll have to check. The music is very tricky. Very tricky indeed.

Mike, Norton's character says that he's only honest on stage and that is, by and larger true. The only other time he is even remotely honest is with Sam, Stone's character. But she is, with the exception of her mother, the only non-showbiz character. She doesn't take people's nonsense, but people, except for Mike, take hers. She is a bit dishonest like the rest of the characters. But when she's not...I don't know. It's good. She stops trying to be the tough girl with the problems.

In fact, that's one of the driving themes of the film: honesty. I think that might actually explain the ending. This is a difficult and tricky theory to explain so buckle up and try to follow (I'll try to lead well):

Okay, first off, this play takes post shots at all of Hollywood. Producers (Jake, Galiflanakis, calling the press leeches when he is the biggest one of all), critics (Riggan's speech about critics essentially calling them cowards), Hollywood (Batma--I mean Ironm--I mean Michael Ba--I mean Birdman. I totally mean Birdman, guys), celebrities ("You are not an actor, you are a celebrity."), elitists (Mike, the scene with the critic, the critic's review)--everyone...except perhaps actors. Actors are exempt from the mocking I think. Or if they aren't, they're certainly not roasted like everyone else is. So, the actor is someone who, as exemplified in Riggan, struggling with all these forces, all these others pounding against them.

Second, there is a theme of trying to be you, trying to be worth something, trying to have meaning as a human being. And while the film has some interesting things to say about that, it ends on what I think is a positive note. Sam seems to kind of get past her front to an extent and accept who she is and I think at the end so does Riggan. I think the ending goes like this:

He flies away at the end (literally???) with the music because he accepts that he is Birdman and that's not bad. He's trying so hard to be something he isn't: a member of the theater elite who see him as an invading Hollywood celebrity trying to make themselves feel like they are worth something by doing "real" acting. (That is a discussion and essay unto itself so, I'm not even going to go further down that rabbit hole.) But he isn't. He has worth (another topic from this film that is an essay unto itself) is being who he is, not who he's trying to be. He tries to hard to get love from people who don't love him and never will. He has a group of people who love him and he needs to embrace that rather than shove it away. I think it's saying that actors need to embrace their craft is whatever aspect it comes in.

That's my crazy theory on the ending. If you think I'm wrong, tell me because I probably am.

Now I'm just going to gush about the film:

Use of music: covered, but oh my gosh it was SO BRILLIANT.

Writing: curious. Very curious. ON stage the dialogue feels honest, but OF stage it can feel as if it's being written for a play and a bit dishonest, forced. Also, all the women, except for Sam, feel like that off stage. What does that mean? NO IDEA. But I love it. This is the "play not within a play" thing I was getting at. The play takes place off stage, but the play itself is where the honesty is. It's a very smart reversal.

Acting: GUYS. I hope I see Galiflanakis in more roles like this because he was awesome. Stone was sublime. Norton was just so perfect. Keaton deserves the Oscar. Period.

Cinematography and Editing: Oscar gold. And also just fun to watch. But really. If I could explain the feeling in my soul that the cleverness of this brings I would, but I can't. It was stupendous. There are maybe - MAYBE - four intentional cuts (and those "cuts" are not really cuts at all, but clever fades--I mean, they're totally cuts, but they're not meant to be). The rest was almost totally seamless and beautifully clever. Just give them the bloody Oscar and spare everyone else the non-tension and disappointment a few weeks form now. I have no doubt they are equally brilliant, but let me explain something about the Academy:

They not only love films about film (which is what this essentially is), but they love the clever stuff, the different, the films that have that "holy crap" "wow-factor" thing going on. That, if for no other reason, is why it should do very well. It should also do well because it's an, if I may be so bold, instant classic.

This will be shown in film classes, scholars will write essays about this film, books will be published--this film will be, and should be, critically picked at for a long, long while to come because it is so complex and deep and also rather straightforward.

So there you have it. My scatter shot review. Please comment below telling me why I'm wrong and what I missed because I know I am and did.

Final words: I loved and I hated. I both grasped it and watched as it slipped through my fingers. It enthralled, frustrated, delighted, annoyed, and made my head ache as I tried to wrap my brain around it. Suffice to say, it is an excellent film and an instant classic.

UPDATE:

I woke up this morning and realized that I'd missed it, the point of the film. Well, I'd missed what I think is its main point. The film is about love. Where do we get love, will anybody love us, is love the same thing as admiration, what about loving ourselves? THAT is what this film is about. Love and ultimately people finding it, people discovering that they have worth and accepting it.

Think about it. Think about how the film ends, when characters stop being used and the circumstances around it, think about the two women not being important after they kiss, about Mike not being important after he kisses Sam (who, again, I still think is the only exception to this--don't know why...), think about the mask in the hospital when Riggan accepts that he is Birdman and flies off into the sunset. When people get it, when they finish that arc, they're not on screen anymore as an important character. They figured it out and get to disappear from the chaos of people trying to find love.

This film is about love.