3 out of 5

Directed by: Alejandro González Iñárritu

‘Birdman’ is a conversation.  With itself.  It’s a fascinating one to sit back and listen to (and watch), but there’s not really a beat of its 119 minutes that allows you, the viewer, to step in and offer your side.  Even after the thing rattles down and you find yourself a tad gob-smacked at its robustness, what you’ve just witnessed is a full-on beginning and ending; ‘Birdman’ is sealed off.  You’re incredibly fortunate to have witnessed so many smart people gathered together, but if you re-quote that conversation later, you won’t be able to speak to it near as well as the original representation.  (Thus accounting for my shitty review y’all.)  Riggan Thomson (Keaton) is most well-known for playing superhero Birdman in several blockbuster flicks.  But those years are gone.  Nowadays, a divorce behind him, Riggan is aging, struggling to connect with his daughter, and hoping that his direction and starring role in an adaptation of a Raymond Carver play will make him feel like he has value once more.  He scores a win for the play when star Mike Shiner (Norton) joins the cast; nevermind that Shiner is a nightmare, pushing Thomson’s dream into chaos and casting light on things that were better left idealized.  As things proceed, the Carver play begins to mirror Thomson’s life; Shiner becomes a twisted parallel for Riggan; the movie adds a dash of the fantastic – maybe Riggan really has Birdman powers? – to toy with our expectations for how self-reflective flicks of this nature should go.  And Iñárritu shoots it all like the most playful dream, the camera constantly shifting between points of view, a jazzy drum score forever shuffling us along, our vision often settling behind the characters, getting in their head.  The movie is excellently constructed to feel loose and improvised, making all of the dynamics – fantasy and reality, life and expectations – that much more organic.  Perhaps… too organic.  The script – from the director and several collaborators – is admirable in how little it preaches to us.  There’s not the moment of clear revelation, or the pause on a meaningful line or scene.  Thomson’s bumbles through interactions; Shiner boasts through them; Birdman’s gravely voice pops in to swear through them.  And yet, when you step back, you realize how many things align effectively such that you didn’t need that clear revelation or speech.  Then again, as my main criticism, there’s not much to reflect on, except whether or not you enjoy the film.  As it remains tonally even from the first shot on, you should know pretty quickly.  Keaton and Norton are fantastic, and the rest of the cast all add the perfect notes that side-characters in plays (which, yes, this very much represents) should hit.  It’s very funny at moments, never very sad, and always in motion.  It’s probably more intelligent than we are.  And it’s a good story.  But maybe next time it’ll give you a chance to get a word in edge-wise.