Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) — Page 4

^Amen to all of the above. It's about the in-the-trenches nightmare of being ... gasp ... an actor. Who gets older. Which lets face it, is the same thing as being stuck in a wheelchair in Hollywood. So it's a story about ... facing mental and physical challenges. That's what it's about!

And just when you cozy up to that trenchant view of an insular Los Angeles-based reality check as the reason we're watching this man's plight for two hours, the film makes it quite clear that acting on the wicked (or WICKED) stage is no better. Why, it's the realm of wannabes and pretentious egg-headed faux artists who need to be put in their pretentious place. The film's construct -- around a farcical, near cartoon take on New York theater -- basically boils to: an actor in America is the ultimate man without a country. To be an artist is to end up an underappreciated, dressing-room wrecking boy-man who needs to be understood and loved and given Another Chance. Of course what does he do with that chance? Blow it. Hey, he's entitled! He's too good for either coast. He's wildly self-destructive, tortured, unable to resist sabotaging every opportunity until there's no choice but to fly away as a martyr. It's got Oscar all over it.

---

Updated On: 2/22/15 at 05:03 PM

#notmybestpicture

To me, it's an art film that has no inherent respect for artists. The leading character is a self-lathing actor who crashes and burns in Hollywood's climate of ageism, then dabbles in theater, albeit with great desperation and blinders firmly in place, only to self-sabotage anew around people lacking (self) discipline, craft and a powerful need to express themselves.

The protagonist doesn't have that singular passion for expression, only for validation. What drives him isn't a poetic need to reveal the mysteries of human nature of even just himself, but for the (final) imprimatur of others, peers and finally NY critics. His approach to live theater, a place he might finally sustain something close to a creative impulse and its rewards, is only to reach a chaotic opening night, a Hollywood cliche. (And one portrayed with the tropes of pure farce.) How many movies seize this hoary concept, portraying actors in search of reviews or that one perfect performance, when theater is by its very nature built on a run, so that the artist can fully self-express and find deep personal satisfaction over time? That inherent disregard, perhaps even disrespect, for craft itself is at odds with all of the film's fancy cinematic trappings. As mediums go, film is portrayed with exhilarating flights; theater is a bargain basement of hacks at the mercy of drunken critics and a capricious audience. That disconnect undermines the very premise of the film. Unless that's its point.

But that cheap plotting trick -- opening night at all costs -- so over-employed by lesser artists (see "Staying Alive") than this director, distills acting down to a quest for that pat on the head. If that's "Birdman"'s final point, the emptiness of artistic expression, of the very spark that should ignite the artist, what a grim and cynical place to ... land. If art offers no solace, no final transcendence other than a means to an end, self-destruction, how sad. When so many gifted people work so hard in service of this trajectory, it's depressing. I don't see how the Keaton character enters the great collection of American antiheroes, though many will argue, some persuasively to be sure, that he does.

To me, among the less engaged, obvious, the film offers a chance to examine anew whether the artist's experience offers universal lessons. Personally, I'll take "8 1/2" or "Sunset Boulevard" or "All About Eve" -- all of which for my eleven dollars grapple with these issues with far more delicacy and compassion and wisdom. Yet "Birdman" now joins them in this discussion. That can't be ignored.

---

"Yet "Birdman" now joins them in this discussion. That can't be ignored."

If BIRDMAN has any sense, it'll keep its fat mouth shut when in discussions with the likes of 8 1/2, ALL ABOUT EVE, and SUNSET BOULEVARD. And for what it's worth, I've found few movies are as easily ignored as BIRDMAN, one of the most useless wastes of time and money in recent years.

---

It wasn't the plot of Birdman which made it Oscar worthy. It was a combination of things.

After I watched it, my first thought was, "This is the strangest film I've ever seen." Yet, I liked it. It's something I've never seen before.

Credit goes to Alejandro Gonzalez Innaritu for crafting a creative and original film. The plot is crazy and pushes the lines of reality and fantasy (and believability), the long one-take camera shots are bizarre, and the crashing drum score is brash and edgy. And the film keeps you guessing, you have no idea where it's going to wind up.

The casting was a stroke of genius. Choosing Michael Keaton was akin to Quentin Tarantino resurrecting John Travolta’s sagging career with Pulp Fiction. For those of us who loved Keaton in Beetlejuice, Mr. Mom, Pacific Heights, and Batman, we were aching to see him make a big splashy comeback (he can deny calling it a comeback all he wants, but that's what it is).

Toss in Edward Norton, Emma Stone, Naomi Watts, and a crisp crossover role for Josh Galifianikis, and you have a wonderful cast that mainstream audiences could embrace.

Updated On: 2/23/15 at 10:44 AM

And I think that's the thing I had the most issue with. I was so thrilled that Eddie won Best Actor last night, I think he honestly gave the Best Performance of the entire year. But that said, I wouldn't have been upset had Keaton won and that being the award that the Academy felt should go the film. But to give it ALL of those awards just baffles me.

I loved it and was hoping it would win.

The last thing this movie was about is art. It's about the fickle nature of fame, aging in a youth dominated business. It satirizes actors who take themselves too seriously.

It has a cynical message about being in the preforming arts, bracing in fact. And I love that it was told so eloquently.

I thought the cast was exceptional. Keaton in particular, and I think he should have won.

---

Updated On: 2/23/15 at 04:34 PM

"The last thing this movie was about is art. It's about the fickle nature of fame, aging in a youth dominated business. It satirizes actors who take themselves too seriously."

My response is, that's convenient, parsing fame in a controlled vacuum, removed from creating, particularly in light of the meticulously created show within a movie that's being performed. Which is intentionally set forth as a kind of high brow forward movement away from the title character movie series. And especially in light of the character's constantly dramatized need to move past his pedestrian action hero status. The film if by default inadvertently addresses art, because that's the vocabulary it employs: serious effort vs. puerile Hollywood sequels.Not my idea, but in the plot and how it's handled.

But the impasse here isn't new. I don't think anyone can talk anyone else into adoring this film. I have been discussing it for about 5 months now, and now one has convinced me to change my mind (having seen 2 1/2 viewings), nor have I done same. I certainly respect those who were wildly entertained and moved and even thrilled. I simply was not and tried here to record the reasons why. I don't need a more persuasive case to be made.

---

I predict that in 20 years, Boyhood will still be relevant and discussed while Birdman will be largely forgotten.