I had stopped watching Oscar nominated films a few years ago. That’s not to say I had intentionally avoided them, but there always seemed to be something more exciting on screen at the time. And for a while, at least, the feeling seemed mutual as every cinematic poster emblazoned on the side of a bus and billboard either had an alien creature, a gun or some form of fire or sparks in the background.
Trailers were the worst. I would drift toward the big blockbusters of that year, action thrillers, Marvel bait, transforming robots and massive explosions. Without fail, every time I watched one of these atrocious, spoiler-ridden trailers, I’d end up rolling my eyes and commenting on how stupid they were. But I’d still go and watch them.
There was a problem with modern cinema, and I knew it. But I didn’t realise that I had become a part of that problem.
‘Birdman (or An Expected Virtue of Ignorance)’, by Alejandro González Iñárritu (Jesus what a mouthful) was so refreshingly mordant on this stigma. It has single-handedly raised the prestige and fervour of an Oscar nominated film back into the spotlight for me.
Never have I seen a movie so intricately designed and executed in a way that it can be both metaphoric and literal at the same time. I consider ‘Birdman’ the ‘American Beauty’ of this century, and if not an encapsulating experience at the very least a visually beautiful one.
‘Birdman’ is a satirical, dark comedy. Ironic, heart-breaking and insane all blended into one. Every scene transitions through a seamless flow of emotions and dialogue; all the while accompanied perfectly by the tempo of a rattling drum solo.
From the crummy, dark hallways back stage, following an audacious but weathered Riggan Thomas (Michael Keaton) through a labyrinth of dirty, rat tunnels; to extreme close ups; revealing every pore and wrinkle, juxtaposed by a sudden dive into fantasy; flying through the streets of New York with the deep, sullen voiceover of Birdman from Riggan’s head; all done without being confusing or disorientating; keeping the story flowing like time.
The movie feels organic and seems to take a life of its own, seeing what we see and knowing when to slow down and when to speed up; when to poke us with fun only to silence your laughter with a dark and sudden truth, and before we even let the thought sit and seep, it consoles you, revealing that it is only a movie, and nothing more.
Birdman has opened my eyes to the quality and potential of modern cinema that is still at our disposal and it has done so all the way to a deserving, Best Picture win of 2014. Performed by an ensemble cast that knows exactly what they’re doing, it is immaculate story telling about the angst and anguish of legacy and the uncompromising need to do what you love.
I applaud Alejandro González for creating such an enthusiastic piece of cinema, wrought with cynicism and foolish optimism. A man left behind to fend for himself in a world filled with people and things he does not understand only to triumph through pure unadulterated, pig-headedness. Truly I believe the bar has been set exceedingly high.
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