Trailer for "Birdman" from Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu
Stars Michael Keaton as Birdman along with Emma Stone, Edward Norton, Andrea Riseborough, Zach Galifianakis, Naomi Watts and Amy Ryan.
Release Date: October 17, 2014
Got my attention, also had me saying "WTF?"
that looks AMAZING
and it just had to come out the day after me and reelist talking about how stupid superhero movies are getting.
this is exciting. and how amazing and hilarious was that last twenty seconds?!? i watched it like five times.
You got my attention. Pretty much similar reaction: WTF combined with repeated viewing.
my god what a great year for film this is turning out to be
I had to post this. The trailers didn't really light my fire, but this has to be the most positive review I've ever read. It's like the reviewer is saying this film will change the game...I cannot wait to see this...beware, the review is slightly spoilerish...
Birdman (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) Film Review
Variety. August 27, 2014, Peter Debruge
A quarter-century after "Batman" ushered in the era of Hollywood mega-tentpoles — hollow comicbook pictures manufactured to enthrall teens and hustle merch — a penitent Michael Keaton returns with the comeback of the century, "Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)," a blisteringly hot-blooded, defiantly anti-formulaic look at a has-been movie star's attempts to resuscitate his career by mounting a vanity project on Broadway. In a year overloaded with self-aware showbiz satires, Alejandro G. Inarritu's fifth and best feature provides the delirious coup de grace — a triumph on every creative level, from casting to execution, that will electrify the industry, captivate arthouse and megaplex crowds alike, send awards pundits into orbit and give fresh wings to Keaton's career.
Keaton was a controversial choice to play the Caped Crusader back in 1989, though the role was the best and worst thing that could have happened to the "Mr. Mom" star, who became world-renowned but never found another role of that stature — and who didn't get nearly the same boost from working with Tarantino (on "Jackie Brown") that John Travolta and Bruce Willis did (from "Pulp Fiction"). As Riggan Thomson, Keaton isn't playing himself so much as an archetype that few other actors could have fit: an insecure celebrity whose Faustian decision to embody a superhero called Birdman subsequently made it impossible for critics or audiences to take him seriously in anything else. Riggan is one of those roles, like Norma Desmond in "Sunset Blvd.," that relies heavily on the actor's offscreen persona, and it works because audiences know so little about Keaton's private life, though they find him endearing even when he's playing narcissistic characters.
It's hardly the first time the movies have cannibalized themselves for subject matter, and yet, Riggan's dilemma seems larger than that of one actor. His crisis is somehow universal, possibly even cosmic, as suggested by the apocalyptic sight of a dying star flaming comet-like across the screen at the outset of the picture. Cut to Riggan, levitating calmly in his dressing room the day before previews begin for his big play. It will be more than half an hour before the next obvious splice — a trick that d.p. Emmanuel Lubezki learned on "Children of Men," and here he extends the illusion of long, uninterrupted takes for nearly the duration of the entire feature as the behind-the-scenes tension escalates through to opening night.
For his Broadway debut, Riggan has selected Raymond Carver's "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love," adapting the short story in such a way as to give himself all the glory, from the bathetic monologue that comes just before intermission, to the ballistic finale (invented for the play), which sees his character blowing his brains out moments before the curtain falls. This is a movie-star approach to theater, where truly great stage actors let their co-stars shine. But then, Riggan has something to prove, surrounding himself with pros — including a respected old friend (Naomi Watts) and the much younger actress he happens to be shagging (Andrea Riseborough) — in hopes that they make him look better. And when an accident allows Riggan to replace a weak player with someone better, Mike (Edward Norton), he leaps at the chance, clearly unprepared for what sharing the spotlight with a real actor entails.
If agreeing to play Birdman represented some sort of artistic sellout earlier in Riggan's career (a compromise compounded when he agreed to make two sequels), then this Carver play ought to earn back his cred. Or so he figures, surrounding himself with a yes-man producer (Zach Galifianakis, in masterfully subtle control of his comedic impulses, except for one moment, where he inexplicably mispronounces "Martin Scorsees") and other sycophants. Riggan has even gone so far as to convince himself that he has telekinetic powers, using his mind to move objects and taking advice from the disembodied voice of Birdman (Keaton's own, lowered a register). But his druggie daughter/assistant, Sam (Emma Stone), calls his bluff, eviscerating his irrelevance in a rant sure to win over a generation too young to have seen Tim Burton's "Batman."
This is perhaps one of the unexpected virtues of ignorance referred to by the film's evocative full title: Riggan approaches the Carver play without all the baggage of a traditional Broadway actor, but then, theatergoers approach it with different expectations as well, ranging from the spiteful prejudgment of a jaded New York Times critic (Lindsay Duncan, trying to seem her Meryl Streepiest) to the naivete of youth. (Oh, to pluck out Sam's eyes and see Broadway through them!) The film virtually overflows with references, to contemporary blips such as Justin Bieber and established minds like Roland Barthes, managing to be simultaneously crude and urbane, while speaking to different audiences on whatever intellectual level they prefer.
As for intent, Inarritu and co-writers Nicolas Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris, Jr., Armando Bo are clearly taking a generational stand with this script, which mourns a time when Hollywood actors had the chance to play flawed and fascinating men, as opposed to one-dimensional supermen. Like last year's "The Great Beauty," "Birdman" finds itself parsing a deep creative and existential crisis, never allowing its justifiable cynicism to drown out what idealism remains, even as it observes that our finest screen actors — Michael Fassbender, Robert Downey Jr. and Jeremy Renner among them — are all cashing comicbook paychecks these days (even as it conveniently pretends that Norton's "Hulk" never happened).
Norton very nearly steals the show from Keaton at one point. Revealing body and soul alike, both stars are inviting us to laugh at aspects of their real selves, though Norton initially seems the more impressive actor, amplifying his own intense commitment to realism to absurd extremes — with the hilarious result that finding himself in the moment during an early performance proves a rather dramatic cure for his character's offstage impotence. At first, Keaton doesn't seem capable of reaching as deep, either in reality or as Riggan, though that's before the humiliation of wandering through Times Square crowds nearly naked.
"Birdman" offers by far the most fascinating meta-deconstruction of an actor's ego since "Being John Malkovich," and one that leaves no room for vanity. From the moment Keaton first removes his wig to the sight of him wrapped in Batman-like facial bandages, his performance reveals itself in layers. The role demands that he appear superficial and stiff onstage, while behaving anything but as the character's personal troubles mount and his priorities begin to align — at which point, he appears in a dual role, donning the ridiculous Birdman costume to hover, seen only by Riggan, like a cracked-out version of Broadway's own "Harvey."
Judged by Howard Hawks' quality standard — "three great scenes, no bad ones" — "Birdman" features at least a dozen of the year's most electrifying onscreen moments (scrambled, so as to avoid spoilers): the levitation, the hallucination, the accident, the fitting, the daughter, the critic, the ex-wife, the erection, the kiss, the shot, the end and Times Square. Most films would be lucky to have one scene as indelible as any of these, and frankly, it's a thrill to see Inarritu back from whatever dark, dreary place begat "21 Grams," "Babel" and "Biutiful," three phony, contrived melodramas engineered to manipulate, while posing as gritty commentaries on the harsh world we inhabit.
With "Birdman," the director has broken from his rut of relying on shaky handheld camerawork to suggest "realism," or an invasive Gustavo Santaolalla score to force the desired reactions, instead finding fresh ways to delve into the human condition. (He has even altered his onscreen credit, condensing "Gonzalez" to a mere "G.," as if to acknowledge this new chapter.) Yes, the film is preoccupied with an aging actor's psyche, but it also addresses fatherhood, marriage, personal integrity and the enduring question of the legacy we leave behind — as in an amusing scene in which Riggan imagines being upstaged by "Batman and Robin" star George Clooney in his obituary. Above all, it is an extremely clever adaptation of Carver's short story, simultaneously postmodern (ironically, a rather retro label) in its meta self-parody and cutting-edge, owing to the dynamism of its style.
Circling shark-like around Keaton, then darting off to stalk other actors, Lubezki's camera is alert and engaged at all times, an active participant in the nervous backstage drama. Taking a cue from Alfred Hitchcock's "Rope," the meticulously blocked shoot cleverly finds ways to mask cuts, using invisible visual effects to stitch together various scenes so it appears that the entire film is one continuous take, even though the events take place over several weeks and in various uptown Gotham locations — primarily Broadway's St. James Theater, but venturing out anywhere that Riggan can walk or Birdman can fly.
In addition to being a virtuoso stunt in its own right, this single-shot illusion serves to address the critique that screen acting is somehow less demanding than stage acting, since there are no conventional editing tricks in place to shape the performances. The cast has no choice but to ante up, which everyone does in spades, and the film is built generously enough that everyone gets ample time to impress (although it should be noted that none of the background sexual intrigues amount to anything).
Inarritu's approach is mind-boggling in its complexity, nearly as demanding on Lubezki as "Gravity" must have been, such that even seemingly minor jokes, as when the camera spies the drummer responsible for the pic's restless jazz score (by Antonio Sanchez) lurking on the edge of the frame, had to be perfectly timed. It's all one big magic trick, one designed to remind how much actors give to their art even as it disguises the layers of work that go into it.
Quote from: max from fearless on August 27, 2014, 07:52:28 AM
I had to post this. The trailers didn't really light my fire, but this has to be the most positive review I've ever read. It's like the reviewer is saying this film will change the game...I cannot wait to see this...beware, the review is slightly spoilerish...
Birdman (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) Film Review
Variety. August 27, 2014, Peter Debruge
it's a thrill to see Inarritu back from whatever dark, dreary place begat "21 Grams," "Babel" and "Biutiful," three phony, contrived melodramas engineered to manipulate, while posing as gritty commentaries on the harsh world we inhabit.
This bit actually gave me a lot of hope for this film, as I couldn't have described Innaritu's previous stuff better.
Also, is this in any way related to Harvey Birdman Attorney At Law, or rather, the Birdman cartoons that was inspired on?
He walks a bit like Harvey Birdman in the trailer.
It would be funny to see the classic Birdman character becoming a template for satirical critique of superhero-concepts in general.
Inarritu, Michael Keaton, and Edward Norton on Charlie Rose (http://charlierose.com/watch/60459663)
I'm surprised that no one has commented on this.
Go see it! ! ! ! :yabbse-thumbup: :yabbse-thumbup:
The movie is literally the cinematic embodiment of a palette cleanser without trying to be anything else. I love palette cleanser movies, because they really don't care about being a good movie at all, and just end up being so full of energy and feeling, that after the movie is over you feel like you left all of the old bubbling toxic material in your stomach in the theater and feel light on your feet.
All the rules broken over and over and over like a labyrinth from Borges, Rhythmic cues from PDL, titles from Godard, story from Carver...to Lynch to Gaspar Noe, Fellini, Malick, the ego, hate for superhero movies, family issues, addiction issues, reality issues, digital cinema issues, everything overtly referenced and combined, but never trying to be any better than any of them. All that mattered was that it was exorcised from the belly.
The non-masterpiece/non-great film this is makes me really love it. Don't think while watching it. I think it's probably a one-viewing machine as it is a "one-take" movie, and that's cool with me.
And I hate to bash other movies while upping good ones, but this was what I wished The Great Beauty could have been.
You know....it's probably just me being mystified about what my feelings exactly are about it, and still hashing it out more than being snarky. I love how much you completely unashamedly loved it! Fuck yeah dude, that's great.
The reason why I said it might be a one-view show is because the movie purposefully and powerfully hits everything (everything) on the nose, and movies like that sometimes have trouble for me to go back to, but that's not a flaw. It's a different type of movie. Don't easily make that out to be a dumb action flick.
And also, it's not only a palate cleanser for me. It's a palate cleanser for Inarritu himself, and that's why it's much more than a palate cleanser in the usual sense. I think that's what I was trying to get at, and why this is a movie you should see.
Quote from: putneyswipe on November 06, 2014, 09:00:38 PM
^ that's the snarkiest most backhanded bullshit review i've ever read, If anything it's definitely a movie you would want to see more than once, it's absolutely brilliant and the closest thing we have had too a masterpiece so far this year- not just a "palate-cleanser" between your 8-hour masturbation sessions to satantango or whatever, it's a fun movie sure, but it's not a lightweight throwaway "that was cool" kung-fu film or whatever he seems to think it is...
/rant
I don't get what's bothering you. Cloudy's review sounded extremely positive in every sense. It seems to describe how the movie turned out to be something unique that avoided the tedious goal of being a masterpiece (what so many arthouse films, including Innaritu's previous stuff set out to be, and succeed in without necessarily being *that* innovative or memorable (see also Lars Von Trier or Terrence Malick)), similar to how, for example, many contemporary action or science fiction films have the equally tedious goal of being most "epic" or something.
His review does a better job of making me want to see the film than yours does. There are so many masterpieces out there and most of them are shit.
:ponder: :yabbse-smiley: @ my last sentence
"not just a "palate-cleanser" between your 8-hour masturbation sessions to satantango or whatever"
:yabbse-thumbup: Should be on the poster.
this movie's awesome.
yes. I saw it one day before seeing Interstellar, and I think this one being so great it actually made interstellar feel worst than it already is.
fun as hell, trippy, plenty of wtf moments, keaton completely rules this thing (why is he agreeing to that bullshit beetlejuice movie now? jesus), edward norton plays himself in the most hilarious way, the camera work is astounding, the soundtrack is probably the best of the year. awesome movie all around.
Quote from: Frederico Fellini on November 07, 2014, 10:08:48 AM
"not just a "palate-cleanser" between your 8-hour masturbation sessions to satantango or whatever"
:yabbse-thumbup: Should be on the poster.
Should be on the marquee. Remember when updating that was a thing?
ooh ooh i do!!
I liked a lot of it but I don't know, it didn't end very well. I wanted to love it. I also wanted to love Whiplash. It's been a pretty disappointing season thus far.
I was pleasantly surprised by it. I really didn't know what it was beforehand and it kept getting better. That eternal fight within artists between vanity and true aspirations, the cynicism was refreshing I felt. The final scene worked for me because it kept that ambivalence. Really unique movie.
I love this movie and it's my pick for best of the year. Samsong, I want your full review!
The "one-take" concept could've been a cheap gimmick but it works perfectly. There is a manic quality throughout, but the film knows when to take a break. I thought the pacing was spot on. The energetic and beautifully timed tracking shots are complimented by plaintive, still moments where the camera lingers on a facial expression or a small detail. The performances are uniformly excellent. That scene where Keaton and Norton meet for the first time is hilarious, intense, moving, all at the same time.
I keep missing opportunities to see it again, and I hope I get the chance. I'm surprised we're not talking more about this.
Spoiler
I have mixed feelings about the ending, too. Cutting to credits after the standing ovation would have been dark and ballsy. It felt like a natural endpoint. That being said, the critical reaction to the play was an important part of the film. I don't know. I bet I'll think differently about it after the next viewing.
probably the worst 2014 film that i saw of my own volition. don't even know where to start with this pretentious(in the dictionary definition sense) piece of shit, peddling in the worst kind of preemptive self-awareness that's self-satisfiedly oblivious of being the very thing it pretends to condemn.
Whatever the small battalion of writers who wrote this thing do in the future I'm going to avoid like it's the bird flu.
Everything about it felt insincere and fake to me. Even the jokes which could be funny fell flat to me because the director has zero sense of humor. I didn't give a shit if the movie decried or extolled hollywood movies or method acting because the movie itself wasn't interested in it, what it was interested in was ensuring that it itself was above everything and in making sure we knew we were watching a masterpiece.
8 hour masturbation session to Satantango seems divine though.
The movie was the movie equivalent of the play they were putting on in the movie. Nicely staged, well-acted, a few shades overwrought, some questionable artistic decisions, subtle as an aluminum baseball bat, but ultimately effective. It's the sort of movie that spends the bulk of its running time yelling its themes at your face, which gets a little exhausting. But there are also transcendent moments, like the rehearsal scene between Keaton and Norton, which illuminates the process of acting as well as anything I've seen in a movie. And if that little liquor store with the hanging lights is a real place, I want to live near there so I can shop there every night and take slugs of whisky and have epiphanies.
Edward Norton has never been better than he is in this film. Sadly, Emma Stone has never been worse. Just a monumental miscast.
Also, side thought: did this movie remind anyone else of Living in Oblivion? It's been years since I've seen it, but there were quite a few moments that reminded me of it (I don't recall the actual line, but at one point Galifianakis and Keaton are talking about a dream sequence having dwarfs in it, which almost has to be a direct Living in Oblivion reference).
The only film it really reminded me of is 8 1/2, which is also a film about nothing except artistic anxiety, and which fires in all directions like a madman. 8 1/2 is also a film that "doesn't amount to much", as some of Birdman's detractors have complained.
I didn't like Birdman
I did!
I did-ish!
I definitely walked out of the theater thinking "yeah, I just saw a movie"
it was totes a movie.
I don't know, it seems like most of American cinema spent the year catching up to television. For example, two of the most acclaimed films - Boyhood and this here Birdman - are in their own ways covering very well-tread tracks in television.
for Boyhood - this technique of watching characters grow imperceptible before our eyes is like the nature of any tv show or sitcom that runs for more than five seasons. I think someone on youtube made a Boy Meets World recut of Boyhood to prove that point.
And this here Birdman - it just feels like this material has been covered so much more efficiently and vividly by many many episodes of Louie, but without that sanctimonious gotcha with the theater critic or the attempt at magical realism in its ending.
also Whiplash - many reality shows have turned ordinary subjects into thrillers before.
I'm not saying these films are without their own merits or achievements, but I think the exoticness of the material/ premise, which is usually what the critics celebrate first when they talk about these films, isn't really all that exotic if you just watch Hulu for a few hours.
also there's still "normal lame" movies that we don't even chat about here. i can't believe boyhood got toasted by boy meets world and i'm cracking up. it's wild to think of tv ruining movie awards season as well, but i believe it, and i think it tends to be important to evaluate the oscars from a perspective of utter disagreement
I understand the 8 1/2 comparisons and both films are about the negative aspects of the artistic experience when under severe levels of stress and anxiety. However, I think there is a major difference. Fellini's film is about an artist lost in a dream world and cannot wake up to face reality. In the brief moments he does, he has to find ways to change what he sees to elements of his fantasy and daydreaming. In Birdman, you have the artist who cannot sleep. He's on a constant whirlwind and when he can fantasize or daydream, it's momentary and a rude awakening usually brings him back to reality to confront the nonstop bender he's on. Fellini's film is expressionionim for a filmmaker fully utilizing motion of camera and editing to entangle the viewer in perspective changes and continuous revolution of images and scenery. Effects that come with dreaming or daydreaming. In Birdman, the sensation is for the extended tracking shot that closets the viewer in the world. Trying to break loose into standard set up, the film takes popular techniques from other filmmakers today and reworks it. The result isn't Enter the Void levels of imaginative, but works well to get a fully fleshed out feeling of despair and anxiety. 8 1/2 also wants to entrap the viewer but goes about it in the complete opposite way by being a film of full motion that is non stop. For 1963, it was different and a jarring experience. Birdman is trying to be a jarring experience in an age when filmmaking for discomfort been done to almost every level, so it's trying. Still, I would say, mostly successful, but the achievement has no chance to feel landmark like 8 1/2. However, it's a great work still and feels like an accomplishment.
Quote from: pete on February 16, 2015, 01:33:09 PM
I don't know, it seems like most of American cinema spent the year catching up to television. For example, two of the most acclaimed films - Boyhood and this here Birdman - are in their own ways covering very well-tread tracks in television.
for Boyhood - this technique of watching characters grow imperceptible before our eyes is like the nature of any tv show or sitcom that runs for more than five seasons. I think someone on youtube made a Boy Meets World recut of Boyhood to prove that point.
And this here Birdman - it just feels like this material has been covered so much more efficiently and vividly by many many episodes of Louie, but without that sanctimonious gotcha with the theater critic or the attempt at magical realism in its ending.
also Whiplash - many reality shows have turned ordinary subjects into thrillers before.
I'm not saying these films are without their own merits or achievements, but I think the exoticness of the material/ premise, which is usually what the critics celebrate first when they talk about these films, isn't really all that exotic if you just watch Hulu for a few hours.
Well, this is unfair. I could say the opposite if I wanted to prove a different point. What about saying that Birdman does in 2 hours what Louie did in 3 years? Why not compare Boyhood to the Harry Potter films while we're at it?
Films and TV series are different formats, with different priorities and results. A Louie 2 hour movie could be underwhelming, and a Boyhood series would simply be different, to be judged by different standards. I don't understand the need to keep pushing the argument that "tv is now ahead of movies". It isn't. They're different. The 2 hour, 3 hour format dictates a certain approach, energy and aesthetic discourse. Birdman and Louie have nothing to do with each other beyond some superficialities, just as the film Friday Night Lights has nothing to do with Any Given Sunday beyond dealing with football.
what you said would be valid if Louie was actually trying to accomplish something that Birdman nailed...but the opposite is true. you're also supporting my point that each medium has its own strengths, but right now movies are more fixated by their own limitations (creating new ones while still keeping old ones - such as the self-imposed need to tidy everything up, competing with television and netflix, franchising everything, trying to please foreign box offices...etc.) the same way television was in the 80s and 90s when it relentlessly imitated cinema. I don't think TV is ahead of movies, but the Academy seems to disagree in this past awards season, by rewarding the same ol' stale biopics and then recognizing movies that are imitating television as innovative.
That scene in which Michael Keaton self-righteously chews on the critic, for me, ruined any chance of grace or self-awareness this movie was pretending to have. That final shot was the nail on the coffin. Technical achievements and good performances aside, in the end we were still watching a movie that thought way too highly of itself as it cleared increasingly low-set bars.
no, what I'm saying is that Louie (which I love) and Birdman have only superficial similarities in subject, but that as a whole are very much different and aiming at dissimilar goals.
I don't think serious directors care about imitating TV or viceversa. They just do what they want. And they're not fighting for relevance today, they want to make films that will fly in 50 years. Maybe hollywood execs are worried about that.
I love TV series and what they offer when they're good, and I love that now we have not only films but also TV to look for when we want great entertainment and art. mr. turner doesn't give two fucks about TV. inherent vice, post tenebras lux, hard to be a god, Ida, Locke.
Anway, we will have to agree to disagree.