In the mainstream population film can be often looked at as entertainment and not much more. We see movie theaters packed on opening weekends for tent-pole productions of the next big franchise or continuation of one. Whether it's Star Wars, Justice League, or Thor: Ragnarok, there's a catharsis that comes with the popcorn blockbuster. It may be the cinematic equivalent of scrolling down through your Facebook newsfeed, but it's bright and flashy and fun and doesn't require a lot of effort to interact with. Rather than being a reflection of the truth of our own lives, we're given large set pieces, neon color palettes, and quirky, yet unrealistic dialogue. We're not given reality, we're purposely removed from it.
Conversely, in Birdman, we're given a film that works to portray it's story in a realistic way. One way it attempts to do this is the use of tracking shots. Tracking shots are shots when the camera focuses on the characters while the camera is moving. The camera either moves backwards, forwards, or sideways while the characters are walking or running. Director Alejandro G. Inarritu mostly films Birdman in one long continuous shot to realistaically show the audience the pains and pleasures of creating a stage adaptation of Raymond Carvers' short story, "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love".
The camera follows the characters as if the audience is following them and their lives. As a result, we become fascinated with what the characters are doing and it adds a voyeuristic feel to the story. As opposed to the gimmick like approach of found footage films, Inarritu is able to use techniques to evoke these feelings. There's also something to be said for the meta-commentary of using Michael Keaton in the role of the protagonist. Keaton's (who played Batman in the late 80's and early 90's) mere presence reminds us of the parallels of this character and the real world person playing him. The soundtrack and use of jazz music also increases the emotional and creative impulses that the characters are going through and makes the audience tense.
The movie focuses on the troubled production of the stage adaptation of one of Raymond Carver's short stories because they're not suited well to film. They focus on the characters talking to each other from one location to another, which would work well on stage but will bore audiences when put on film. Dialogue is something we do over a dinner table, it's not always viewed as something we need tons of in film, let along being a major part of the content. We believe the main character, Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton), has a connection to Raymond Carver because he admires them and wanted to take a break from making superhero movies. With his career becoming stagnant, Riggan wants to prove himself to be a true artist, and distance himself from the pigeon-hole he's been put in. But considering how Riggan was a big Hollywood star in his early career, he might have a difficult time convincing the audience that he can make art while battling his own ego.
The film's subtitle "The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance" represents the ignorance of what other people want in their lives and how self-important certain people in the art business have become.
Pulling these elements together we get a clear picture of what the film is trying to accomplish. By giving a sense of grounding and paralleling with a protagonist who has spent most of their artistic career creating work so far from the condition of our day-to-day lives, the film is able to evoke a felling of duality. We are able to see both sides - the big, bombastic production of the superhero genre - and the lack of trust in the very building blocks of our own reality to be interesting. We are left wondering where the line between the two truly lies and which people would rather spend their time in.
RATING 4/4
